meCAGE AS VUARGE AS A GARDEN 61 
gamboge-yellow. Ah, shere is a beautiful bird indeed ! 
What would you say if you were to see a bird that was 
yellow and green with crimson-sunset plumes, and with 
two long glossy ribbons in his tail, and two beautiful 
crests on his forehead, with blue legs and a gamboge 
bill, flying from tree to tree in your garden? 
Ah, yes, if you were to see him like that he would 
be more beautiful than any bird that has ever been 
in your garden or that has ever flown about in the 
woods or fields all over England—for he would be 
alive then—alive and happy. But if you were to see 
him dead he would not be so beautiful as any of the 
birds in your garden—no, not even as the sparrows 
(which is saying a good deal), for the beauty of life 
would be gone out of him, and that is the greatest 
beauty of all. And even if he were in a cage—unless 
it were a very large one with a great many trees in 
it—he would hardly look as beautiful as a lark does 
when he sails and sings in the sky. 
So, however beautiful this bird is, you must only 
want to see him flying about in the forests or gardens 
of his native land, if ever you go there. If you do 
not go there, then you must not mind, but you must 
try to imagine him, which is almost as good as seeing 
him, if you do it properly. But you must never want 
to see him in a cage that is smaller than a large 
garden with trees in it, or dead in a glass case or a 
