Not that Macquarie had no faults. He was a man full of vanity and self-conceit; a man who, instead of sober despatches to his superiors in England, wrote flowery accounts of himself and his wonderful doings; a man who, in his egoism, affixed the names of himself and of his family to nearly every place discovered in the colony during his term of office. Yet, apart from this weakness, Macquarie may be characterised as an exemplary man and an admirable Governor. He devoted himself heartily to his work; his chief thought for twelve years was how to improve the state of the little colony, and how to raise the degraded men who had been sent thither. An ardent feeling of philanthropy gave a kindly tone to his restless activity. Once every year he made a complete tour of the settled portions of the colony, to observe their condition and discover what improvements were needed. He taught the farmers to build for themselves neat houses, in place of the rude huts they had previously been content with; he encouraged them to improve their system of farming, sometimes with advice, sometimes with money, but more often with loans from the Government stores. He built churches and schools; he took the warmest interest in the progress of religion and of education; and neglected nothing that could serve to elevate the moral tone of the little community. Certainly, no community has ever been in greater need of elevation. The fact that the British Government thought it necessary to send out 1,100 soldiers to keep order among a population of only 10,000 indicates very plainly what was the character of these people, and almost justifies the sweeping assertion of Macquarie, that the colony consisted of those “who had been transported, and those who ought to have been”. Yet Macquarie uniformly showed a kindly disposition towards the convicts; he settled great numbers of them as free men on little farms of their own; and if they did not succeed as well as they might have done, it was not for want of advice and assistance from the Governor.