of clear water stood in the sandy bed of the river, in front of our rest-house, which was a simple room of solid granite blocks, enclosed upon three sides, with the fourth open, excepting the pillars by which the roof was supported. On the ceiling, also formed of slabs of granite, was carved a clear illustration of the Hindu theory of eclipses, in the shape of a huge serpent swallowing the moon. On our left stood a heathen temple.
On arising, my choice would have been to have first gone through with some slight ablutions, but my congregation was assembled; and though they were uninvited, it did not seem right to postpone making known to them the truth, for washings. A middle-aged man, of portly stature—his stout person showing some relish for the good things of this life—after listening with the others, said, “This is all very fine about not sinning, not lying, and so forth; but if we do not lie, how are we to get our living? Tell me that! To live! that is the thing! And to live, you must lie!” And then he turned contemptuously away, well content to hear no more about forsaking sin.
The sun grew hot, and the air oppressive, and I lay down a while to rest, while my friend
