The real members of these monastic orders are not generally bad men; but there are a great many men of all kinds who put on their disguises, and under their cloak commit all kinds of atrocities.[8] The security and convenience which the real pilgrims enjoy upon our roads, and the entire freedom from all taxation, both upon these roads and at the different temples they visit, tend greatly to attach them to our rule, and through that attachment, a tone of good feeling towards it is generally disseminated over all India.  They come from the native states, and become acquainted with the superior advantages the people under us enjoy, in the greater security of property, the greater freedom with which it is enjoyed and displayed; the greater exemption from taxation, and the odious right of search which it involves, the greater facilities for travelling in good roads and bridges; the greater respectability and integrity of public servants, arising from the greater security in their tenure of office and more adequate rate of avowed salaries; the entire freedom of the navigation of our great rivers, on which thousands and tens of thousands of laden vessels now pass from one end to the other without any one to question whence they come or whither they go.  These are tangible proofs of good government, which all can appreciate; and as the European gentleman, in his rambles along the great roads, passes the lines of pilgrims with which the roads are crowded during the cold season, he is sure to hear himself hailed with grateful shouts, as one of those who secured for them and the people generally all the blessings they now enjoy.[9]

One day my sporting friend, the Raja of Maihar, told me that he had been purchasing some water from the Ganges at its source, to wash the image of Vishnu which stood in one of his temples.[10] I asked him whether he ever drank the water after the image had been washed in it.  ‘Yes,’ said he, ‘we all occasionally drink the “chandamirt".’  ’And do you in the same manner drink the water in which the god Siva has been washed?’ ‘Never,’ said the Raja.  ‘And why not?’ ’Because his wife, Devi, one day in a domestic quarrel cursed him and said, “The water which falls from thy head shall no man henceforward drink.”  From that day’, said the Raja, ’no man has ever drunk of the water that washes his image, lest Devi should punish him.’  ’And how is it, then, Raja Sahib, that mankind continue to drink the water of the Ganges, which is supposed to flow from her husband Siva’s top-knot?’ ‘Because’, replied the Raja, ’this sacred river first flows from the right foot of the god Vishnu, and thence passes over the head of Siva.  The three gods’, continued the Raja, ’govern the world turn and turn about, twenty years at a time.  While Vishnu reigns, all goes on well; rain descends in good season, the harvests are abundant, and the cattle thrive.  When Brahma reigns, there is little falling off in these matters; but during the twenty years that Siva reigns, nothing goes on well—­we are all at cross purposes, our crops fail, our cattle get the murrain, and mankind suffer from epidemic diseases.’  The Raja was a follower of Vishnu, as may be guessed.