But the mention of new penal settlements, in which the punishment and removal of gross offenders were the only objects, while the reformation and salvation of those poor men were never thought of, forcibly recalls us to a subject of which we have for some time lost sight, and which must be once more noticed before the history of the rise and early progress of the colony of New South Wales is completed. Where was the Church all this time? What was the Church of England doing in the now flourishing settlement of Australia? How far did the state follow at once both its duty and its interest, and employ in the work of reformation in this land of criminals those heavenly instruments, the Bible and the Church? The reply to all these inquiries is briefly made, but the national sin and shame involved in that short reply it might need volumes to unfold.
In 1821, at the end of Macquarie’s government, there was scattered about in the colony a population of 29,783, of whom 13,814 were convicts, and among these were found ministering seven clergymen of the Church of England, with no bishop of that Church to “set things in order”[126] nearer than the Antipodes,—the very opposite side of the habitable globe! Nor, if we look (as unhappily now in every English colony we must look,) beyond the pale of the English Church, shall we find either Romish superstition or Dissenting zeal working any of their usual wonders. Though the number of Romanists from Ireland was very great in the colony, yet they had, in 1821, only one priest residing among them; the Presbyterians at Portland Head had a catechist only, and with respect to the other “denominations” little or nothing is recorded:—the establishment had taken as yet so poor a hold of the soil of New South Wales, that the voluntary system, which seems often to need its support, as ivy needs the support of a tree, had scarcely been transplanted thither. One observation, before we quit for the present this painful subject, forces itself upon the mind. How utterly unlike are the ways of an All-Perfect God from the ways of imperfect fallen men! The King of kings desireth not the death of any sinner, and has wrought miracles upon miracles of mercy to provide for his salvation; whereas man regardeth not the spiritual life of his brethren, earthly monarchs and nations care chiefly about the removal of the offenders out of their sight, and, so long as this is effected, they trouble not themselves about the future lot of those outcasts; money is more willingly parted with for “penal settlements” than for religious instruction, and, although the earthly wants of the criminals are attended to, here humanity stops short;—if their bodies are not cast out to starve and to perish their souls are. And who cannot read in holy Scripture the just doom of those that have acted, or are acting, thus? “The wicked man shall die in his iniquity, but his blood will I require at thine hand.”[127]
Having now brought down the history of the colony of New South Wales to a period when it might be said to be firmly established and flourishing, both party feeling and needless details may best be avoided by stopping here, yet it will not form an unsuitable conclusion to this chapter to borrow General Macquarie’s account of his own doings, although this may be somewhat tinctured with that vanity, which is said to have been his greatest weakness:—“I found the colony,” he states, in a Report to Earl Bathurst, “barely emerging from infantile imbecility, and suffering from various privations and disabilities; the country impenetrable beyond 40 miles from Sydney; agriculture in a yet languishing state; commerce in its early dawn; revenue unknown; threatened with famine; distracted by faction; the public buildings in a state of dilapidation, and mouldering to decay; the few roads and bridges formerly constructed rendered almost impassable; the population in general depressed by poverty; no public credit nor private confidence; the morals of the great mass of the population in the lowest state of debasement, and religious worship almost totally neglected.[128] Such was the state of New South Wales when I took charge of its administration on the 1st of January, 1810. I left it in February last, reaping incalculable advantages from my extensive and important discoveries in all directions, including the supposed insurmountable barrier called the Blue Mountains, to the westward of which are situated the fertile plains of Bathurst; and in all respects [?] enjoying a state of private comfort and public prosperity, which I trust will at least equal the expectations of His Majesty’s Government. On my taking the command of the colony in the year 1810, the amount of port duties collected did not exceed 8000l. per annum, and there were only 50l. or 60l. of a balance in the Treasurer’s hands; but now (in 1822,) duties are collected at Port Jackson to the amount of from 28,000l. to 30,000l. per annum. In addition to this annual colonial revenue, there are port duties, collected at Hobart Town and George Town in Van Diemen’s Land, to the amount of between 8000l. and 10,000l. per annum.”[129]
north view of sydney.
CHAPTER IX.
DESCRIPTION OF THE COLONY OF NEW SOUTH WALES.
The next objects that demand our notice in Australia are the British colonies, and their present inhabitants. We have already given our attention to the Bush and its wild inhabitants, and the lengthened yet rapid process by which a lonely bay was converted, within the space of little more than forty years, into the flourishing capital of a rising country, has been fully traced. It now remains for the reader to be made acquainted with the natural features, civil divisions, and present state of the British Australian colonies,—especially of the oldest and most important of them, called New South Wales. Were we not already informed of the sad reality of things, we might be tempted to indulge in the daydreams of an explorer, and to join in the bright and hopeful visions of a most pleasing writer, respecting the blessings to arise out of a change of any district from wild bush to civilized colony. But dreams of this nature are little better than vanity, and so our explorer himself tells us at the end of his narrative:—“Whilst I stretched my weary length,” says Captain Grey, “along, under the pleasant shade, I saw in fancy busy crowds throng the scenes I was then amongst. I pictured to myself the bleating sheep and lowing herds wandering over these fertile hills; and I chose the very spot on which my house should stand, surrounded with as fine an amphitheatre of verdant land as the eye of man had ever gazed on. The view was backed by the Victoria Range, whilst seaward you looked out through a romantic glen upon the great Indian ocean. I knew that within four or five years civilization would have followed my tracks, and that rude nature and the savage would no longer reign supreme over so fine a territory. Mr. Smith entered eagerly into my thoughts and views; together we built these castles in the air, trusting we should see happy results spring from our present sufferings and labours,—but within a few weeks from this day he died in the wilds he was exploring.”[130] So little are the brilliant hopes inspired by discovery to be depended upon, nor less uncertain are the expectations which the colonization of a district awakens in our hearts. We cannot but look for good results, yet frequently are we doomed to disappointment.