The Sun.
London, England, 1844-03-07 00:00:00

Tian savage, and eat the dirty grill) for his breakfast,
and the undressed fish for his dinner—let him do that,
and they would not complain.—(Loud cheers.)
If he chose to be ignorant, and would not have
books because their leaves were made from
dirty rags which came from Italy, let him
do so.—(Cheers.) Let him, if he chose, discard
writing, because the gall of which ink was made came
from Aleppo.—(Cheers.) Let him do all this, if he
pleased, but let him not interfere with the privilege—
the high and noble privilege—which entitled the
people of this country to invite the people of other
countries to come to this with their contributions,
and enabled the people here to offer to them their
contributions in return.—(Cheers.) The time once
was when in this country there were rude savages
who, instead of garments, covered their bodies with
red and yellow ochre ; and who, instead of houses,
had huts made of the branches of trees and covered
with fern.—(Hear.) He did not complain of the man
who said he would feed on aboriginal cabbages—
(Laughter)—and make his pies and puddings of sloes,
haws, and blackberries—(Laughter)—because they
grew on his own land.—(Cheers.) God forbid that
he should be deprived of the enjoyment of these
notions, and that he should be compelled to eat
peaches and other delicacies that came to maturity
under a more benignant sun. Let him do as he liked
with respect-4o all this, but let him not interfere with
them. He might, if he chose, place a stick
on the sands of the sea shore, or he might hang
up a pitcher full of water, with a hole in
the bottom, and watch its running from the
rising to the setting sun, in order to tell how the time
passed by. But let him not deprive him of that
beautiful instrument which had proceeded from the
intelligence and intellect of man, called a watch, in
which the iron was brought from Sweden, the gold
from Africa and Asia, and the precious stones from
various parts of the world.—(Cheers.) Let him
immure himself, if he pleased, in some uninhabited spot
—let him do as their forefathers of old had done, have
oak-tables, in which holes were made for the salt,
and let him use his fingers instead of employing those
articles, the materials of which came from other
countries. Let him do all that. What mattered it
to him (Dr. 'Bowring) or to them, if he chose to
dress in ',coarse garment+, and would enjoy
nothing but that which was indigenous to his own
land? He (Dr. Bowring) might mourn over him ;
but what business, he would ask, had he to interfere
with him who had that for which others would be
thankful and grateful, and who, in return for that
which he could give, would place at his disposal the
produce of the universal world ?—(Cheers.) This was
the history of civilisation and commerce, and in what,
he would ask, consisted their victory, but that of
making the universal world, with all its climates, and
fruits, and men, and mind, tributary to that activity
which gave energy to them and benefit and profit to
a 11..? In a country like the present, where he saw men
who worked at the loom, rising before the sun, and
retiring to rest long after it had set, he said, is that
being one who was spreading the benefits of
amity and friendship over the universal
world, because that which he produced brought
to this country all the enjoyments of life ? Without
him they never would have reached the high position
in which this country at present stood. If this country
was great, and great it was—(Cheers)—if it was in-
fluential, and influential it was—(Cheers)—it was
because they had made themselves dependent on
other nations, and thereby rendered them tributary to
this country.—(Hear, hear.) Was it not lamentable,
in days like the present, to hear the strong—the infa-
tuated language, which was used b y men when they
talked of the foreign relationsof this country ? Could
they not see that those relations were the real sources
of the commerce of the country ? Did it not bring to
those who were constantly inveighing against it, al-
most all that they ate, drank, or were clothed with? It
brought to them almost every decoration in their dwel-
lings. To foreign countries they owed all this; and he
(Dr. Bowring) should like nothing better than that
such men should be condemned to the punishment
of having their own physician—(Cheers)—viz.,
that of being made independent of foreign nations.—
(Cheers.) It was the dependence of this country
upon foreign nations that had made her name illus-
trous through the whole civilised world.—(Cheers.)
He (Dr. Bowring) would like to strip from the backs
ofsuch men as these the garments they had received
from foreign lands, and he would venture to say they
would walk through the streets in their own original
nakedness.—(Cheers.) Let them take from their
tables the contributions that came from foreign coun-
tries, and he would venture to say that two or three
days would put them in a state of starvation.—
(Hear, hear.) He should like to take from
the backs of their wives and daughters the great
and beautiful things they had received from
foreign countries, and he would venture to say that
they would not show themselves afterwards in
Hounsditch.—(Great laughter.) It was on the de-
pendence of man on man that their virtues and feli-
cities equally hung.—(Cheers.) He could under-
stand the theory of those who, if they crossed a
brook, or wandered over a mountain, would say they
had no language to deal out in love; that there they
expected to find not friends but foes ; that there they
were to seek to destroy, and not to benefit. Those,
however, were not the principles of those who be-
longed to the League ; their principles were free
trade, with which human happiness was connected.
Free traders deem it their high and honourable—
their most high and most honourable—mission, to
remove the mass of misery where they found misery
existing, and to develope happiness where they saw
any means of developing happiness.—(Hear, hear.)
Their attention was often called to what was passing
elsewhere, and their thoughts had lately been taken to
that ocean—the. great Pacific Ocean—in which he
hoped the magnificant barque of free trade would, ere
long, float in all its majesty (Cheers)—and he
thought, as he had duties elsewhere, that he could
not better conclude what he had said, than by giving
them

THE BREAD-FRUIT TREE.
A TALE OF THE SANDWICH ISLES.
I'll tell you a tale of the Southern Seas;
You may laugh at, or cry at--just as you please.
Scant was the growth of the bread-fruit tree,
In the beautiful Isle of Owhyhee,
While—the gift of heaven—it richly grew,
O'er the sunny fields of Woahoo;
And it seemed as Nature had placed these isles,
In reach of each other's verdant smiles,
That whate'er was wanting on either shore,
From the other might swift be wafted o'er ;
The Woahooan nymphs array'd
In trinkets by Owhyheeans made;
While Owhyhee well fed should be
By Woahoo's sweet bread-fruit tree.
But alas I even happy isles like these,
Have people upon them called grandees,
And, where there are lords, I need not say,
• Things will go on in a lordly way.
* * * I.

Heard you that cry, whose withering sound
Saddens the sunny prospect round ?
From a million of voices it sings on high,
" We starve—we starve!"—their fearful cry !
Know you what, 'midst such fertile scenes,
That awful voice of Famine means ?
Oh ! list to me—in Owhyhee
There were lords and squires of high degree,
Who in bread-fruit held large property,
And of all afflictions, ills, and vices,
Thought nothing so dreadful as low prices,
Wherefore they held it just and meet,
That the world should not too cheaply eat;
Nay, deemed it Radical insolence
To wish to dine at a small expense,
And swore, for the sake of themselves and heirs,
That, happen what might with other wares,
No bread should be less dear than their's.
In vain the Owhyheeans said—
" My Lords, we much respect your bread,
But, with all due reverence for your Graces,
We'd rather have cheaper from other places."
In vain from the Woahooan shore,
Barques, filled with bread-fruit, winged them o'er ;
'Twas vulgarly cheap, and taxed must be,
Before 'twas fit for good company ;
Nor 'must the poor devils swallow a bit
Unless they swallowed a tax with it.
And what said the Lords of Owhyhee,
And the Owhyheean squirearchy,
In defence of their joint gentility ?
Why, they said that they, and their sires before 'em,
Had shone in the senate, the camp, and quorum,
Had all been rich—had managed to get,
As became their station, deeply in debt ;
And thought it hard that men of reading,
Which had cost themselves so much in breeding,
Should now fall victims to cheap feeding ;
Shorn of their beams of wealth and state,
To help low fellows to masticate.
" How little," said they, " the thoughtless poor
Can know what the suffering rich endure !
In bringing up dozens of young grandees,
In paying off horrible mortgagees—
To say nothing of assignees, lessees,
And an endless quantity more of these
Uneasy things, that end in ees !
And though, as honest Figaro says,
If a gentleman owes, and never pays,
'Tis just the same, be it great or small,
As if he, in fact, owed nothing at all !
Yet, somehow, unless one sometimes pays,
Lenders are shy of one, now-a-days."
In short, if the bread-tax once was gone,
These lords-and gentlemen couldn't get on.

* Quand, on deft, et qu'on ne paye pas, c'e•t corn=
si on ne deToit rin.