over the neck of his wearied pony, before the fort of Jellalabad,
which General Sale still held for the English. He only was "escaped
alone" to tell the hideous tale. The ill-advised and ill-managed
enterprise which thus terminated had extended over more than three
years, had cost us many noble lives, in particular that of the
much-lamented Alexander Burnes, had condemned many English women and
children to a long and cruel captivity among the savage foe, and had
absolutely failed as to the object for which it was undertaken--the
instalment of Shah Soojah, a mere British tool, as ruler of
Afghanistan, in place of the chief desired by the Afghan people, Dost
Mahomed. When the disasters to our arms had been retrieved, as
retrieved they were with exemplary promptness, and when the surviving
prisoners were redeemed from their hard captivity, it was deemed
sound policy for us to attempt no longer to "force a sovereign on a
reluctant people," and to remain content with that limit which
"nature appears to have assigned" to our Indian empire on its
north-western border. Later adventures in the same field have not
resulted so happily as to prove that these views were incorrect. Our
prestige was seriously damaged in Hindostan by this first Afghan war,
and was only partially re-established in the campaign against the
Sikhs several years later, despite the dramatic grandeur of that
"piece of Indian history" which resulted in our annexation of the
Punjaub in 1846--a solid advantage balanced by the unpleasant fact
that English soldiers had been proved not invincible by natives.

It will thus appear that there was not too much that was glorious or
encouraging in our external affairs in these early years; but the
internal condition of the country was never less reassuring. The
general discontent of the English lower orders was taking shape as
Chartism--a movement which could not have arisen but for the fierce