that circle of friends, relations, and acquaintance, to which they
had been known from childhood; which had constituted their world, and
the censure or approbation of which determined their state of
self-reproach or self-satisfaction. Few men may be trusted far who
can say, "I am not known here," for these are always the people who
care least what they do. Good and well-meaning persons will exclaim,
"Colonists can have very little sense of religion, if they allow
themselves to act at a distance differently from what they would do
at home." Those who have more than a theoretical acquaintance with
mankind, and who are used to look upon them in their undisguised
selfishness, know well that their sense of religion is greatly
dependent upon the circumstances in which men find themselves placed.
We are not speaking of what such and such people would do and feel,
but of what is really done and felt by thousands.

Besides, I have already premised that it is not every colonist who
acts on these principles, but that such is the general tendency to
act in a colony.

We can now understand the origin of that intense selfishness in the
American character, which has never yet been cast aside, and which,
in fact, is perpetuated by a republican form of government.

The high and nice sense of honour, the chivalrous generosity, the
frank acknowledgment of superiority, and the ready devotion of self
to the interests of others at the call of duty, constituted the
brightest ornaments of the feudal system, and still glitter (though
with feebler lustre) among the fragments of that system throughout
civilized Europe.