As a fine characteristic view of the city is to be obtained from the river front, a boat was taken, with half a dozen oarsmen, to pull along the ghats, or flights of broad stone steps, descending to the river from the shattered old palaces, prostrate temples, and half-sunken quays, which extend in a continuous line for more than two miles along the Ganges. Here hundreds, nay thousands of people of both sexes and of all conditions, are to be seen at any hour of the day dipping and washing in the sacred waters; which ceremony to them is tangible prayer. Here was a small group gathered about a delicate invalid, who lay upon a litter, brought to the spot that she might be bathed in these waters, which it was hoped would make her whole. Here still another collection surrounded the fading and flickering lamp of life that burned dimly in the breast of age, come to die by the healing river. And close at hand, beneath that sheet, was the cold clay of one already departed, now to be consumed upon the funeral pyre and his ashes cast into the Ganges. What a picture of life and death, what a practical comment upon poor humanity! On these ghats the Hindoos pass their happiest hours, notwithstanding these sad episodes; coming from the confined, dirty, unwholesome streets in which they sleep and eat, to pray and bathe, as well as to breathe the fresh air and to bask in the sun. The hideous fakirs make their fixed lodging-places here, living entirely in the open air, in all their revolting personal deformity, diseased and filthy. Their distorted limbs fixed in every conceivable attitude of penance, their faces besmeared with white clay, and their long hair matted and clotted with dirt. There are pious fools enough to kneel before them, and to give them food and money, by which they are supported in their crazy self-immolation.
It was observed that some of the women took into the river with them short garlands of yellow and white flowers, which they seemed to count over like a Roman Catholic kneeling with her beads, and finally to break them in pieces and cast them upon the surface of the river, watching them borne away upon the tide. Each one was provided also with a small brass jar in which to carry away a portion of the sacred water, after having completed their baths, and washed their clothes therein. The people have no hesitation in drinking this water in which so many have bathed, nor in carrying it home for cooking purposes. Yet they must have, like ourselves, seen the ashes of the cremated corpses cast into it, and have observed the frequent dead bodies floating therein. One would think a single glance at the yellow, filthy hue of the water would be sufficient to debar its use; but the very name of the Ganges sanctifies everything with these mentally blind creatures. Sometimes, though this is not a frequent occurrence, a crocodile takes away a bather; but such persons are rather envied than regretted, since to die in those waters is in their estimation simply to be at once wafted to the elysian fields of paradise.