Address to the Inhabitants of the Colonies, established in New South Wales And Norfolk Island

In Short

This book is a pastoral address directed toward the transported prisoners of New South Wales and Norfolk Island. Facing a growing population and deteriorating health, the author compiles his teachings into a written format to ensure his message survives his tenure. The work functions as a solemn exhortation, detailing the tenets of the Christian gospel, the necessity of personal repentance, and the practical requirements for maintaining a moral society in a remote, harsh frontier. It remains a poignant artifact of colonial history, revealing the anxieties of a man tasked with the moral stewardship of an outcast community.

The Story

The narrative begins as an intimate confession of duty. The author explains that as the convict colony spreads across the landscape, his physical capacity to reach every inhabitant through private conversation has vanished. Faced with the reality of mortality and the rapid expansion of the settlement, he decides to commit his counsel to paper. He establishes his credentials not as a distant authority, but as a "friend" who wishes to leave behind a permanent testament of his concern for the inhabitants’ eternal welfare.

The central argument is structured in two parts. First, the author lays out the theological framework of his mission: the fall of man, the necessity of the gospel, and the promise of salvation through faith in Jesus Christ. He paints a stark picture of life as a binary choice between heaven and hell, urging his readers to view their current situation—however desperate—as a temporary trial before an eternal judgment. He does not shy away from the gravity of his mission, emphasizing that he is an appointed watchman who will eventually have to answer for the spiritual state of those under his care.

In the second part, the author transitions from theology to practical morality. He offers specific directives on how the inhabitants should conduct their daily lives, insisting that true faith must be evidenced by an upright life. He confronts the specific vices he observes in the colony: the profanation of the Sabbath, idleness, theft, and profane language. He argues that these behaviors are not merely social inconveniences but obstacles to personal peace and societal stability. He encourages his readers to view their exile not as a hopeless conclusion, but as a potential site for transformation, suggesting that they could even influence the indigenous people by modeling a more virtuous existence.

The book concludes with a final, urgent appeal. The author asks the inhabitants to study his words repeatedly, regardless of their current skepticism or hostility. He frames his legacy not in terms of his own success, but in the potential for his readers to reconcile with God. He closes with a vision of a future where his message might eventually reach beyond the colony, contributing to a global spiritual awakening. He reaffirms his identity as their servant, tethering his own fate at the judgment seat to theirs, and leaving them with a final, prayerful wish for their salvation.

How It Unfolds

The mandate of the shepherd The author explains the necessity of his written address, citing his failing health and the insurmountable logistical challenge of ministering to an ever-expanding, geographically scattered population of convicts. He establishes a tone of pastoral affection, positioning himself as a concerned friend who must document his teachings before he is called away.

The theological foundation The author delivers a plain, uncompromising summary of the gospel, focusing on the concepts of original sin and the redemptive power of Christ’s sacrifice. He emphasizes the urgency of belief, warning that the "tender thread of life" is easily cut and that the choice between salvation and damnation is the only concern that truly matters.

Practical moral guidance The text shifts to an instructional mode, providing a checklist for daily conduct that includes the rigorous observation of the Sabbath and the importance of honest labor. He addresses the specific temptations of the colony, such as the tendency toward idleness and the corrosive effects of profane speech.

The call for social influence The author expands his argument to include the colony's impact on the indigenous population, warning the inhabitants that their behavior acts as a witness to those around them. He challenges them to consider the consequences of "laying stumbling-blocks" in the way of others, suggesting that their personal reform could serve as a catalyst for a more orderly society.

Final entreaty The book closes with an intense plea for the reader to treat the document as a final, vital piece of advice. The author ties his own ultimate success or failure to the spiritual awakening of his readers, ending with a visionary, hopeful prayer for the future of the colony and the world.

The People

The author, the colony's first chaplain, is the book’s central figure. Driven by an intense, unwavering sense of responsibility, he views himself as the soul-keeper of a forgotten, isolated population. His desire is to leave a permanent mark on the characters of his "parishioners," yet he is constantly frustrated by the apathy, sin, and resistance he encounters.

The inhabitants are the intended audience. They are primarily convicts, some of whom are described as hardened, profane, and dismissive of religious authority. They represent a wide spectrum of moral states, from those who have "happily found mercy" to those who treat the Sabbath as a day for sloth or "abominations." The author’s greatest struggle is with their indifference; they represent the obstacle of the human heart, which he perceives as being naturally inclined toward rebellion and "enmity against God."

Finally, the indigenous people appear as a secondary, vulnerable group. They are the "unenlightened savages" whom the author fears will be permanently damaged by observing the vices of the Europeans. They represent the unintended, collateral victims of the convicts’ behavior. The author hopes to transform the convicts into models of virtue, essentially turning the inhabitants from agents of chaos into potential agents of spiritual light.

In Its Own Voice

The colony already begins to spread, and will probably spread more and more every year, both by new settlements formed in different places under the crown, and by a number of individuals continually becoming settlers.

The author explains the logistical reality of his expanding, remote parish.

I must express my fear, that those of you, who are thus convinced of sin, and converted to God, and reformed from your evil courses, are comparatively very few.

The author admits his anxiety regarding the limited impact of his ministry on the convict population.

You may as well conceive of a holy devil, as of an unholy christian.

The author asserts the necessity of outward conduct matching inward belief.

What It's Really About

The work is a meditation on the concept of agency within a state of total restriction. Though the inhabitants are prisoners of the Crown, the author insists that they remain, above all, agents of their own souls. The text grapples with the question of whether a society built on punishment and exile can ever achieve moral coherence. The author argues that true freedom is not found in the physical release from the colony, but in the internal submission to divine law. He addresses the tension between the "trifles of this transitory life"—material struggle and social status—and the absolute weight of eternity, urging his readers to view their harsh environment as a crucible for potential spiritual redemption rather than a mere site of despair.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the history of colonial Australia or the development of early Evangelical ministry will find this book essential. It is not an easy read; the prose is dense with the formal, urgent rhetoric of the 18th-century pulpit, and the author’s persistent focus on sin, damnation, and judgment is often jarring to modern sensibilities. However, for those who value historical authenticity, it is an extraordinary document. It captures the raw, lonely, and claustrophobic atmosphere of the early convict experience in a way that dry academic histories cannot. You will feel the weight of the author’s isolation and his desperate, almost frantic desire to bring structure and meaning to a society that he clearly perceives as being on the brink of moral collapse. What stays with you is the sheer intensity of his dedication—a man writing to a population he knows may never change, yet refusing to abandon his belief that a single life saved is worth the effort. It is a haunting, intimate look at the collision between high-minded religious idealism and the grim, practical realities of life on the edge of the known world.