Enough of a melancholy and shameful tale--let it be sufficient to say that when Brydon reached Jellalabad on the 13th the army of Cabul had for all practical purposes disappeared from off the face of the earth. The news came upon the Government like a thunder-stroke. The last days of Lord Auckland's administration were drawing near, and as he read Macnaghten's sanguine despatches he fondly hoped that it would be his fortune to return to England, not only the conqueror, but the tranquilizer of Afghanistan. Towards the close of the year, indeed, rumours of a disquieting nature had found their way down to Calcutta, and when all rumours ceased it became evident that our communications were interrupted, and that something serious had happened; but not even the gloomiest dared to anticipate the worst: on January 30th the worst was known. Though there was anything but unanimity in the Calcutta Council, some preparations, chiefly through the energetic representations of George Clerk, our agent on the north-western frontier, had been made before the full tidings of the disaster came down. It had appeared to some, of whom was Sir Jasper Nicolls, then Commander-in-chief in India, that it was better to accept the blow, and withdraw altogether behind the Indus, than by attempting to retrieve still further to deepen our disgrace. Sale still held Jellalabad in the teeth of overwhelming numbers; Nott was still master of Candahar;--let them yield up the charge they had so nobly kept, and if too weak to find their own way down to India, let troops sufficient for their help advance, but for no other purpose. Lord Auckland, unwilling to commit his successor to a task which had already proved too strong for his own energies, was inclined to listen to the advocates of retreat, and though the news of the annihilation of the army of Cabul roused him for the moment into a proclamation that the awful calamity was but "a new occasion for displaying the stability and vigour of the British power, and the admirable spirit and valour of the British-Indian army," he quickly followed it by an intimation that when Sale and Nott had been relieved, it were better that the British troops should withdraw to Peshawur. Still, fresh forces were to be raised, and a fine soldier was to head them. The offer had been first made to Major-General Lumley, Adjutant-General in India, but Lumley's health forbade him to accept so important a post, and Lord Auckland's choice--a choice as popular as it was judicious--finally fell upon Pollock, a distinguished officer of the Company's service, who had seen fighting under Lake and Wellington, and wherever, indeed, it was to be seen since the year 1803, when he had first landed in India, a young lieutenant of artillery. Pollock hastened up to his command without a moment's delay, but before he could reach Peshawur our troops had suffered yet another repulse.