crotchets of a colonial minister, or of a governor, although both could, and did, seriously retard its progress.
But while the Legislative Council were contesting, inch by inch, the "elementary rights of Englishmen," the grass was growing, the sheep were breeding, the stockmen were exploring new pastures, and the frugal industry of settlers was replacing and increasing the capital lost by wild speculations. And in 1845–6, Sir George Gipps was able to announce that the revenue exceeded the expenditure, and the exports the imports, while the glut of labour which followed his arrival had been succeeded by a demand which the squatters termed a dearth.
In July, 1846, Sir George Gipps retired from the government of New South Wales, and embarked for England, worn out in body and mind by the excitement of perpetual contests with colonists as unscrupulous in their attacks as he was obstinate and haughty in maintaining his opinions and position. It was a war to the knife on both sides. The last measure he presented to the Legislative Council (a bill to renew the border police) was rejected, and an address voted, by a large majority, after two nights' debate, which was virtually a vote of censure on his government, after which the council adjourned itself for a month.
During an administration of eight years, distinguished by unusual official and literary aptitude, Sir George Gipps succeeded in earning the warm approbation of the Downing-street chiefs, and the detestation of the members of every colonial class and interest, except his immediate dependents. The squatocracy, the mercantile, and the settler class were equally opposed to him. Yet even with the same political and economical views, erroneous and baneful as many of them were, with much less talent, but with a more conciliatory temper, he might have been a happy, a popular, and a really useful governor. The value, as well as the popularity, of a colonial governor depends more on the manner in which he conciliates and advises the people under his charge, than on the manner in which he pens a despatch or delivers a speech from the vice-throne.
We have dwelt on Sir George's unhappy career - unhappy for himself and for the colony under his charge—to show what manner of policy was approved and rewarded by the Colonial Office of Lord Stanley and Earl Grey, and why discontent has been chronic in New South Wales for so many years.
Had he been a man of less mark, or a governor of less power, his faults and foibles should have been buried with him; but unfortunately they form an important part of the history of the colony he misgoverned. We may yet have to reap a bitter harvest from the seeds he sowed. Imperfectly as our task has been performed, we have said enough to
