SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.
“When my eyes first opened to the light, I found myself, with three other unfledged goldfinches, comfortably lodged in a warm nest. A fond parent sat watching over us with anxious solicitude; and her joy, at seeing her callow offspring safely released from the confinement of the shell, was expressed in lively chirping notes; her beautifully-painted wings were expanded with rapturous haste, and, heedless of our timid complaints, she flew from us; but her absence was short; she soon returned, and evinced her maternal care, by bringing us such food as suited our delicate state, and which we were unable to procure for ourselves. This she repeated till we were satisfied; then perching on a bough above us, she shook her plumage with exultation, and poured forth a strain of heartfelt delight.
“The tree in which my mother had built our nest grew near a farmhouse, the windows of which overlooked the orchard, whose tempting fruit had attracted innumerable feathered tenants. A young lady from town, who was on a visit to the farmer’s daughter, had often expressed a wish to have a goldfinch; and her friend, who happened to be rambling with her through the orchard, at that moment looking up, exclaimed—‘You shall soon have a bird now, Eliza; for I believe a goldfinch has just hatched some young in this tree, and I will tell one of our men to watch it: when they are fledged you shall have the finest.’
‘But would it not be an act of cruelty to take them from their mother?’ asked Eliza, her eyes filling with tears of sensibility.
“Fanny, though naturally compassionate, was more accustomed to such things, and considered them with indifference; she therefore replied—‘Not cruel in the least, Eliza; you will be very fond of it, and use it well; then where can be the harm? If you do not take it, some mischievous boy may find the nest, and perhaps torture them all to death; and as to the old bird, she will soon forget them, and make a new nest.’
‘I am not exactly of your opinion,’ said Eliza; ‘it does not justify me in my own eyes to be cruel, because another may have the power to be more so; for you know, my dear Fanny, I might as well wantonly crush this poor insect beneath my foot, and say, it is no matter—the next who passes this way will do it, if I do not; but that would be very barbarous of me, you must allow.’
‘Why indeed that is very true,’ replied Fanny; ‘and I am sure I would not willingly be guilty of any act of barbarity; but you may as well have one of these birds as any other, for I know Dick has watched them here; and as he considers them his property, he will dispose of them to people who are not quite so scrupulous.’
‘If that is the case,’ said Eliza, ‘I will certainly have one at least; and I will teach it such sweet tunes, that you will be quite delighted when you come to see me in town.’
“In this instance, Eliza certainly suffered self-gratification to triumph over the dictates of native benevolence. The simplest sophistry has too often the power to lull the suggestions of virtue; and that very night our mossy bed was torn from the supporting branch by the hand of an unpitying rustic, and placed within a beautiful, brass-wired cage. We beheld the transition with wonder and alarm. The splendour of the change dazzled our eyes; but we knew that our newly-acquired grandeur robbed us of life’s sweetest blessing—liberty.
“A heavy shower of rain brought our fond parent home, in the hope of affording shelter to her callow brood. Our feeble voices were raised to implore her succour, for the wet flowed in upon us, and we shivered with the uncomfortable sensations it occasioned. Perceiving our situation, our tender mother uttered a shrill cry of despair. She flew round and round the cage, in the vain attempt of forcing an entrance. She pecked the wire with her bill, and beat against it with her downy breast. Ah! who can conceive the anguish of her little throbbing heart, at thus finding herself robbed of her darling treasure! She passed the whole night in mournful lamentations, nor ventured to quit us till our piercing cries for food rung in her ears, and roused her from the stupor of grief into which she had fallen.