We saw the Maurya dynasty,--that one seemingly firm patch to set your feet on in the whole morass of the Indian past,--occupy the thirteen decades from 320 to 190 B.C., (or we thought we did); now the question is, from that _pied-a-terre_ whither shall we jump? If you could be sure that the ebb of the wave would be equal in length to its inrush,--the night to the day:--that the minor pralaya would be no longer or shorter than the little manvantara that preceded it--why, then you might leap out securely for 60 B.C., with a comfortable feeling that there would be some kind of turning-point in Indian history there or thereabouts. Sometimes things do happen so, beautifully, as if arranged by the clock. But unfortunately, enough mischief may be done in thirteen decades to take a much longer period to disentangle; and again, it is only when you strike an average for the whole year, that you can say the nights are equal to the days. We are trying to see through to the pattern of history; not to dogmatize on such details as we may find, nor claim on the petty strength of them to be certain of the whole. So, our present leap (for we shall make it), while not quite in the dark, must be made in the dusk of an hour or so after sunset. There must be an element of faith in it: very likely we shall splash and sink gruesomely. Well, here goes then! From 190 B.C. thirteen decades forward to 60 B.C., and,--squish! But, courage! throw out your arm and clutch--at this trailing root, _57 B. C.,_ here within easy reach; and haul yourself out. So; and see, now you are standing on something. What it is, _Dios lo sabe!_ But there is an Indian era that begins in 57 B.C.; for a long time, dates were counted from that year. That era rises in undefined legendary splendor, and peters out ineffectually you don't just know where. There is nothing to go upon but legends, with never a coin nor monument found to back them;--never mind; dates you count eras from are generally those in which important cycles begin. The legends relate to Vikramaditya king of Ujjain,--which kingdom is towards the western side of the peninsula, and about where Hindoostan and the Deccan join. He is the Arthur-Charlemain of India, the Golden Monarch of Romance. In the lakes of his palace gardens the very swans sang his praises daily-- "Glory be to Vikramajeet Who always gives us pearls to eat"; and when he died, the four pillars that supported his throne rose up, and wandered away through the fields and jungle disconsolate: they would not support the dignity of any lesser man.* Such tales are told about him by every Indian mother to her children at this present day, and have been, presumably, any time these last two thousand years. ------ * _India through the Ages,_ by Mrs. Flora Annie Steel. ------