It would be cruel, indeed, to confine the poor creatures, where they cannot get any thing to eat; and then to neglect them.
EMILIA.
But may I ask you something, Charles? Would it not be more noble if you was to give them their liberty? They sit there like prisoners; we only confine bad people, and these poor birds have not done wrong.
CHARLES.
No, they are not unhappy in their confinement; God has created them for our pleasure, though we displease him when we treat them with cruelty.
EMILIA.
They must yet, I think, be uneasy, when they see others flying in the open air, and themselves shut up.—We should not be satisfied.
CHARLES.
They cannot reason as we can. If we were shut up, we should say to ourselves, how disagreeable it is to be confined; and how precious is liberty. But birds have not any idea of this difference. If we give them plenty to eat and drink they are content, without wishing for what they have not. That linnet of Edward’s, you just now mentioned, as long as he had something, he eat it up, without any anxiety for the future. A sign, that he had not the power of reflecting. A man, on the contrary, would be afraid of want, if his provisions began to fail; and then he would eat sparingly; but a bird has not any conception of wanting food—much less his liberty.
I will only add, that I am your affectionate son,