f India to worship her. When they reach the river they bathe
in it, and fancy they have washed away all their sins. They carry away
large bottles of the sacred water for their friends at home.

But this is not all; very cruel deeds are committed by the side of the
river. It is supposed that all who die there will go to the Hindoo
heaven. It is therefore the custom to drag dying people out of their
beds, and to lay them in the mud, exposed to the heat of the broiling
sun, and then to pour pails of water over their heads.

One sick man, who was being carried to the water, covered up as if he
were dead, suddenly threw off the covering, and called out, "I am not
dead, I am only very ill." He knew that the cruel people who were
carrying him were going to cast him into the water while he was still
alive: but nothing he could say could save him: the cruel creatures
answered, "You may as well die _now_ as at any other time;" and so they
drowned him, pretending all the while to be very kind.

It is thought a good thing to be thrown into the river after death. The
Ganges is the great burying-place; and dead bodies may be seen floating
on its waters, while crows and vultures are tearing the flesh from the
bones. There would be many more of these horrible sights were it not that
many bodies are burned, and their ashes only cast into the river.

Some foolish deceived creatures drown themselves in the Ganges, hoping to
be very happy hereafter as a reward. The Brahmins are ready to accompany
such people into the water. Some men were once seen going into the river
with a large empty jar fastened to the back of each. The empty jar
prevented them from sinking; but there was a cup in the hands of each of
the poor men, and with these cups they filled the jars, and then they
began to sink. One of them grew frightened, and tried to get on shore;
but the wicked Brahmins in their boats hunted him, and tried to keep him
in the water; however, they could not catch him, and the miserable man
escaped. There are villages near the river whither such poor creatures
flee, and where they end their days together; for their old friends would
not speak to them if they were to return to their homes.

BEGGARS.--As you walk about Hindostan, you will sometimes meet a horrible
object, with no other covering than a tiger's skin, or else an orange
scarf; his body besmeared with ashes, his hair matted like the shaggy
coat of a wild beast, and his nails like bi