CHAP. X.] DEATH OF POMEROY. 285 



tures from twelve years of age to thirty, and many other 

 things. Well, I have found that reading profitable in 

 making me remember him better, and honour him more, and 

 understand better how he ordered his life, and who were his 

 friends. That is the use and intent of keeping anything 

 belonging to our friends. I do not intend to advertise these 

 things for public sale, for I doubt whether the public would 

 be better, and I would be worse. 



The following letter from Pomeroy to his mother, 

 of which a copy was found in Maxwell's handwriting, 

 throws further light on the character of the man 

 whose loss was felt so deeply : 



Azingurh, July 28, 1857. 



MY DEAR MOTHER I sit down to write to you in rather a solemn 

 inood, partly owing to my having received yesterday a note from Mrs. 

 W. H. T., which I enclose, and partly because that, in this part of 

 India, and particularly in these outlying stations, with no European 

 soldiers, the lives of Englishmen more clearly lie in God's hand than 

 on most occasions in our sojourn on earth. 



I have told you in former letters that I volunteered to go with any 

 civilians who reoccupied a station in the Benares district. I did this 

 completely of my own responsibility, and whether I was right or 

 wrong God alone knows. I was then in excellent health, and I could 

 not bear to think that I should be absolutely doing nothing in a safe 

 station, when an additional European, who could ride or use firearms, 

 even if he could do nothing else, was not utterly useless to the brave 

 men who were going out in order to make, persuade, or enable the natives 

 to cultivate their fields, during the three important months of the year, 

 and so avoid a famine. 



Mr. Tucker responded immediately to my volunteering, and ap- 

 pointed me " Assistant Magistrate " of Azingurh, with nearly a 



month. You know the delay in going, and that I was ill during that 

 time. We left (Benares) on the 16th, and arrived here on the 18th. 

 The march, which I performed partly on horseback and partly in my 

 buggy, did not do me any harm, but the fatigue, excitement, and 

 varied feelings caused by an affray with a body of natives, led by Oude 

 Zemindars, in which we were finally victorious, after five hours of half 

 fighting (not that I fought much, but I was on horseback most of the 

 time), rather weakened me. Then there was a wounded man to be 

 taken into Ghazipoor, and of those whose duty it was to accompany 

 him nobody who could be spared could be induced to go, so I volun- 



