THE CANARY-BIRD. (Fringilla, or Carduelis canaria.)
As his name imports, this bird is a native of the Canary Islands; where, in his wild state, he has a dusky gray plumage, and a much stronger voice than when in a cage. In our northern countries his feathers undergo a great alteration; and the bird often becomes entirely white or yellow. Of this bird, Buffon says, “that if the nightingale is the chantress of the woods, the Canary is the musician of the chamber; the first owes all to nature, the second something to art. With less strength of organ, less compass of voice, and less variety of note, the Canary has a better ear, greater facility of imitation, and a more retentive memory; and as the difference of genius, especially among the lower animals, depends in a great measure on the perfection of their senses, the Canary, whose organ of hearing is more susceptible of receiving and retaining foreign impressions, becomes more social, tame, and familiar; is capable of gratitude and even attachment; its caresses are endearing, its little humours innocent, and its anger neither hurts nor offends. Its education is easy; we rear it with pleasure, because we are able to instruct it. It leaves the melody of its own natural note, to listen to the melody of our voices and instruments. It accompanies us, and repays the pleasure it receives with interest, while the nightingale, more proud of his talent, seems desirous of preserving it in all its purity, at least it appears to attach very little value to ours, and it is with great difficulty that it can be taught any of our airs. It despises them, and never fails to return to its own wild wood notes. Its pipe is a masterpiece of nature, which human art can neither alter nor improve; while that of the Canary is a model of more pliant materials, which we can mould at pleasure; and therefore it contributes in a much greater degree to the pleasures of society. It sings at all seasons, cheers us in the dullest weather, and adds to our happiness, by amusing the young and delighting the recluse, charming the tediousness of the cloister, and gladdening the soul of the innocent and captive.” It breeds generally twice a year when domesticated; and it sometimes happens that the female lays her eggs for the second time before the first brood is fledged. The male then good-naturedly takes her place on the eggs while she feeds the young ones, and feeds them in his turn, when she sits in the nest. They are very easily tamed, when brought up with attention and kindness, and take their food out of the hand, often perching on the shoulder of their mistress, and feeding out of her mouth. The Canary-bird is sometimes, and with success, matched with the linnet or the goldfinch; and the produce is a beautiful bird, partaking of the talents and plumage of both.
Canary-birds live twelve or thirteen years in our climate, and sing well to the end of their life.
The following curious anecdote of one of these birds is related by Dr. Darwin: “On observing a Canary-bird at the house of a gentleman near Tutbury, in Derbyshire, I was told it always fainted away when its cage was cleaned; and I desired to see the experiment. The cage being taken from the ceiling, and the bottom drawn out, the bird began to tremble, and turned quite white about the root of the bill: he then opened his mouth, as if for breath, and respired quick; stood up straighter on his perch, hung his wings, spread his tail, closed his eyes, and appeared quite stiff for half-an-hour; till at length, with much trembling and deep respirations, he came gradually to himself.”
Some years ago, a Frenchman exhibited in London twenty-four Canary-birds, many of which he said were from eighteen to twenty-five years of age. Some of these balanced themselves, head downward, on their shoulders, having their legs and tail in the air. One of them taking a slender stick in its claws, passed its head between its legs, and suffered itself to be turned round, as if in the act of being roasted. Another balanced itself, and was swung backward and forward on a kind of a slack rope. A third was dressed in military uniform, having a cap on its head, wearing a sword and pouch, and carrying a firelock in one claw: after some time sitting upright, this bird, at the word of command, freed itself from its dress, and flew away to the cage. A fourth suffered itself to be shot at, and falling down as if dead, was put into a little wheelbarrow, and wheeled away by one of its comrades!