The arrival of General Darling was a time of festivity: he proclaimed the independence of the colony on New South Wales, December 3, 1825. While present, he was entitled to govern; but when he set sail, Arthur, who had been addressed as "Your Honor," assumed the authority of governor-in-chief, and, responsible only to the home-office, became "His Excellency." The colonists were less delighted with the possession than the prospect of a chief governor; although the spirit of General Darling was not more favorable to the enlargement of their liberties. The legislative and executive councils were appointed, consisting of officers of the government: among them, it is said, a relative of Spencer Perceval, the statesman. He had been nominated to an office in this colony, but he never arrived; his name is, however, second on our first list of legislators. The division of the island into police districts, subject to a stipendiary magistrate (1827), brought the prisoner population under the more direct control of the government. It was a great improvement in the internal discipline of the colony. Gentlemen, themselves masters, were liable to the bias of a position full of vexation and disappointment, and less favorable to a cool and impartial administration of justice. The executive revised their sentences, and thus reflected on their judgment. Nor were they willing always to spare the time required by a patient investigation, or to distinguish between a frivolous and a proper defence. Some curious examples of magisterial equity are often told: one rose from the bench, when he heard his waggon in the street, and delivered his sentence in his progress towards the door--"I can't stop: give him fifty." A cattle stealer owed his life to the same impatience of enquiry: before the charge was half investigated, the magistrate said, "give him fifty"--an easy compromise with the hangman. A reverend gentleman met a party of men brought up for disobedience: he sent them back, with "ah, well, give them five-and-twenty all round." It was common to send a note with the man whom it was intended to punish: he was flogged, and sent back. A man, suspecting the contents of such a missive, gave it to his fellow-servant, who was flogged in spite of his protests. Another, who had been on a similar errand before, returned next day to his master, complaining bitterly of his suffering; but he had destroyed the note and eluded the triangles. Such eccentricities of justice could not last beyond the rudest era.