Engaging a boat, with natives to row us, we floated slowly down the Ganges. The sights here on its northern bank are almost indescribable. Imagine a pano-ramathree miles long, which, as your boat glides down the current, seems to unroll itself before you. Put up your hands like opera-glasses to your eyes and look at any portion of it singly, and you might fancy it to be an elaborate theatre-curtain; for the background is a long, high cliff, covered with turreted walls and strangely pointed domes, ascending tier above tier from the broad river to the bright blue sky.

Along the river-bank, in one unbroken line, descend broad staircases of stone, and on these steps stand, literally, thousands of Hindus, praying, conversing, meditating, bathing, or carrying away in jars the water of the hallowed stream.

As early as an hour after sunrise, I found these stairways thronged with men, women, and children, clad merely in a wisp of cotton, yet mindful only of one thing, be-side which all else in the universe was for a moment worthless, - their bath in the Holy Ganges; for they believe that its thrice-sacred flood will purify their souls, if not their bodies, and wash away all taint of sin.

The Bathers In The Ganges.

One Of India's Rock-Hewn Temples.

I speak reservedly of the effect which bathing here may have upon their bodies, for at Benares the Ganges is filthy in the extreme. Happily for the reputation of the Hindus this is not caused entirely by the blackness of theirsins. Other more practical causes can be found. Sewers discharge their contents into the midst of all these bathers. Bushels of faded flowers, which have served as offerings in the temples, are cast into the river here and float in fetid masses on its sluggish surface. Moreover, among these rotting and offensive weeds are the remains of human bodies, which have been partially cremated on the shore. Add to this the fact that, all day long, thousands here cleanse their bodies and their clothing, and one can faintly comprehend the condition of the water. Yet every bather takes up in his hands some of this filthy, mucilaginous fluid, and drinks it. Even worse than this, beasts of burden carry away into the country gallons of this river-water, which finds ready purchasers ; for, though the Eng-lish Government provides here a good supply of filtered water, the people of Benares prefer to use the unadulterated "Holy Ganges," and come long distances to fill their jars with it and take it home. What wonder, then, that there is always cholera at Benares, and that this valley of the Ganges is a perfect laboratory of infection, - a paradise of microbes, - a constant source of danger to the Western world? In almost every instance where cholera has ravaged Europe, Asia, or America, its origin has been distinctly traced back to a starting-point in India, where it first appeared among the crowds of filthy, half-starved pilgrims to the Ganges.

Carrying Away The Ganges Water.

On The Northern Bank.

The Piers At Benares.

Though there are miles of stone steps on this sacred shore, open to all comers, they do not at times afford sufficient space for the pilgrims, and wooden piers have in addition been built out into the stream. Selecting one man on the spot for observation, I saw him dip himself completely three or four times; then he took up a little of the water in his hands and drank it; and, finally, pinching his nose between his thumb and forefinger, he held his breath as long as possible while mentally repeating the name of God. The only part of this performance that I could really understand was the necessity of holding his nose! Most of the men, and many of the women here, had their heads closely shaved, for they are told that for every hair thus sacrificed they will secure a million years in Paradise.

Conspicuous among these places for ablution was a mud-hole at the foot of a steep bank, between two broken flights of steps. So filthy and neglected did this spot appear, that I could hardly believe the statement that here are burned the bodies of all Hindus - rich and poor alike - who have the happiness of dying at Benares. "Happiness," I say; for to expire beside the Ganges is considered a sure passport to eternal bliss.