The knowledge of the causes which promote the rapid settlement of a
new country, and of those in general which lead to the improvement
of the physical condition of mankind may be compared to the
knowledge of a language. The inhabitant of a civilised and
long-settled country may speak and write his own language with the
greatest purity, but very few ever reflect on the amount of thought,
metaphor, and ingenuity which has been expended by their less
civilised ancestors in bringing that language to perfection. The
barbarian first feels the disadvantage of a limited means of
communicating his ideas, and with great labour and ingenuity devises
the means, from time to time, to remedy the imperfections of his
language. He is compelled to analyse and study it in its first
elements, and to augment the modes of expression in order to keep
pace with the increasing number of his wants and ideas.

A colony bears the same relation to an old-settled country that a
grammar does to a language. In a colony, society is seen in its
first elements, the country itself is in its rudest and simplest
form. The colonist knows them in this primitive state, and watches
their progress step by step. In this manner he acquires an intimate
knowledge of the philosophy of improvement, which is almost
unattainable by an individual who has lived from his childhood in
a highly complex and artificial state of society, where everything
around him was formed and arranged long before he came into the
world; he sees the effects, the causes existed long before his time.
His place in society--his portion of the wealth of the country--his
prejudices--his religion itself, if he has any, are all more or less
hereditary. He is in some measure a mere machine, or rather a part
of one. He is a creature of education, rather than of original
thought.