Arthur was no fickle or hesitating patron, and the qualities he approved are nearly allied to virtue: he appreciated humanity, sobriety, industrious habits, and religious decorum. Respectable men, who did not question or cross his path, might usually calculate on his complaisance. But those who reckoned up his estates; numbered the benefits conferred on his friends; estimated the cost of his government; or criticised his public works; found that he did not fear, although he detested them. The imperial officers cared not in what direction his patronage was turned, and their nominees experienced and praised his generous discretion.
The impressions of devout men were usually favorable to Arthur: he told them his objects and trials with apparent humility and devotion. He listened with deep attention to their plans of usefulness, and talked, especially of the prisoners, in strains of christian compassion. His sanction was given to every benevolent scheme, and he gathered around him a very large proportion of those persons who care more for the circulation of religious knowledge than the civil enfranchisement of mankind. The ready countenance of their labors lessened, in their view, his civil faults. Nor can it be denied, that the decorous habits of the governor confirmed his religious pretensions. Wherever he appeared, ribaldry and drunkenness vanished. The open licentiousness of public officers he did not tolerate, except the offenders were distinguished by official cleverness.
Addresses from all denominations of Christians expressed their admiration of his religious sympathies and his moral worth; and in the most bitter outburst of party spirit, his domestic character was never assailed. The testimony of Messrs. Backhouse and Walker, members of the Society of Friends, would generally be adopted by most persons of their class:—"Our first interview with Colonel Arthur gave us a favorable impression of his character as a governor and a christian, which further acquaintance with him strongly confirmed. He took great interest in the temporal and spiritual prosperity of the colonists, and the reformation of the prisoner population, as well as in the welfare of the black inhabitants."[200]
Messrs. Backhouse and Walker were authorised by the Society of Friends, and sent on a religious mission to these colonies: they brought a letter of introduction from the secretary of state, Lord Goderich, requesting the governor to forward their benevolent object.
The more violent opponents of Arthur, connected with the press, afterwards retracted their opinions; but their statements must be read with equal caution, whether they censure or praise.[201]
A collection was made by Arthur's friends in token of their regard, supposed to exceed £1,000 in value. It, however, indicated rather their liberality than their number: individual contributions were not limited. The addresses were signed by many who were conciliated by his moral sentiments, but disapproved of his government; they however, seemed to justify the ministerial applause which crowned his administration. Sir George Grey referred to these tokens of esteem, as evidence of popularity, and the contentment of the people.[202]
Arthur held his last levée on the afternoon of his departure:[203] several hundreds were present, collected from all parts of his government. He proceeded with the chief officers, civil and military, to the beach, where the 21st Fusileers awaited him: multitudes attended his progress; the wharf was crowded with spectators; a hundred boats surrounded the government barge, and followed him to the ship. The vessels in the harbour were decorated, and his numerous friends gave the usual demonstrations of favour. In these feelings many did not participate: some followed him with hisses and groans; others illuminated their houses in token of joy. Some fell into the hands of the police, overpowered by their excessive gladness. Having gone through the ceremony of embarkation he returned to his office, and spent the night in completing his last labors. Adverse winds detained the vessel, and he passed the Sabbath in sight of that country where his name can never be forgotten; and where monuments more durable than brass, formed by his care, will remain to the end of time.
The manners of Arthur were formal; his tastes moral; his temper vindictive. He approved the right, and usually followed it; but his resolution once taken, he did not hesitate. He devoted all who opposed him: and those whom he could not conciliate, if possible, he bore down. The sentiment of religion, however, did sometimes triumph over his antipathies. His contest with Mr. Gellibrand, the barrister, continued many years; but they met at the sacrament shortly before their final separation. Arthur approached the seat where Gellibrand was sitting, and offered his hand. This being misunderstood, a prayer-book was tendered him: he then explained, that before they joined in the solemnity which had brought them there, he was anxious for reconciliation.
Such only who know little of man, and of those conflicting passions which attain alternate ascendancy in the human breast, will survey with distrust a scene like this. In the presence of the Almighty the loftiest mind may bend without meanness, and recognise the moral grandeur of a forgiving spirit.
A few months after the departure of Arthur, Mr. Joseph Tice Gellibrand lost his life. He visited Port Phillip, a place which long engaged his thoughts: in company with Mr. Hesse, a barrister, he set out to explore the interior; they missed their way. The guide who attended them was convinced of danger: he could not prevail on them to change their route, and he returned alone. Their long absence occasioned anxiety, and parties of their friends attempted to track them: they found that when in company with the guide they had crossed the Byron, instead of the Leigh, their intended course; they then travelled on about fifteen miles by the river side, and over a plain, and entered a wood soon impervious to horsemen: then their track was lost. For several years, efforts were made to solve the mystery of their fate. In 1844, the natives directed Mr. Allen, a gentleman of credit, to a spot where they stated a white man had been murdered: there he discovered human bones, but no evidence by which identity could be established. Beyond this, nothing certain is known.