compel him to put the gravest phase of the case first.  The Boer conditions, however, met with nothing but indignant protests, nobody venturing to raise his voice in favour of them except by way of comment on the utterances of some fiery orator, who was for asking the General to send back threats of dire punishment on every Boer if a shot should be fired into the town.  Mr. Charles Jones, who was a transport rider in the Boer war of 1881, and carried Sir Evelyn Wood’s despatches through the enemy’s lines to a beleaguered garrison, was first to express in calm, manly words what was afterwards found to be the general feeling of the townsmen present at that meeting.  Mr. Jones has won the respect of every Englishman who knows him by the steadfastness with which he stuck to his post when others were seeking safety in migration to Maritzburg or Durban.  With firm faith in the leader under whom, as a volunteer, he saw active service, Mr. Jones believes that we should see our difficulties through, without asking or accepting doubtful favours from a foe.  Somebody in the crowd ventured to say, “But your wife and children are not here now.”  “No,” was the answer; “and I have no wish nor right to speak for fathers and husbands, who are at liberty to do as they please.  But I can still say that if my wife and children were here, I would rather they should trust to protection under the Union Jack with British soldiers than under the white flag at Joubert’s mercy.”

There were men in that crowd who had to speak for those near and dear to them.  Anxious-eyed and pale, with muscles knit into hard lines on their faces, one after another declared in voices that may have faltered, but still rang true as steel, that they and theirs would face their fate under the Union Jack.  Archdeacon Barker, who has been ceaseless in his ministrations among the afflicted since fighting began, gave eloquent expression to the prevalent sentiment, as one who had kith and kin about him, and finished by saying that he would neither go to the camp selected by General Joubert, nor allow his wife and family to go.  To this conclusion the meeting also came by general agreement, the dissentient minority being still free to do as they wished, except that no man who had taken up arms in defence of Ladysmith could accept the terms offered by General Joubert.  Then the people gave three lusty cheers, and ended by singing “God Save the Queen,” with an effect, the impressiveness of which was deepened by the thought that within a few hours Ladysmith would be under bombardment from all the thundering artillery our enemy could muster.  But the resolution of this public meeting made no difference to Sir George White’s decision, which was a practical acceptance of the terms formulated.