‘A meeting was convened within an hour of the arrival of the news by telegraph; it was attended by every class and sect in the community. The large town hall could not contain the assemblage; they therefore gathered outside. The first proceeding, before any resolution, was to call for the substitution of the Union flag for the municipal one. Then, regardless of order, but with the order inspired by a common sentiment, the vast crowd struck up the National Anthem. The effect drew tears from many eyes—the _effect_ in part, the _earnestness_ with which, under the circumstances, the Anthem was given forth by those who joined in it, melted them into weakness. And a second time in the course of the proceedings the same _irregularity_ was indulged in, without its being possible for any one to say that anything irregular was done—the ordinary and decorous modes of expressing popular feeling were insufficient to give utterance to that by which all were _possessed_. We burned with loyalty to the Crown and country, intensified by shame and indignation that the act of one bad man had made it necessary that we should wipe away reproach or suspicion from us. I am not guilty of exaggeration when I tell you that the news of what had been done by O’Farrell made many persons _ill_ amongst us.... I dwell upon this subject, for to this moment it, more than any other public one, agitates the minds of the people—but having done so for this simple reason, let me ask you, as a recent visitant, to do something in our vindication. We are English—that is, national—in our sentiments, and not as the result of calculation, but simply because we have not ceased to be and to feel as Englishmen. Our Tasmanianism is an accident of no more qualifying influence upon our feelings in what relates to the honour and integrity of the mother country, than the circumstance might have of being Kentish men.’