efore saying a few words on this subject, I should like to define my position. With all my heart do I disapprove of caging wild birds. I never had, and never shall have, the liberty of one bird interfered with for my pleasure or study, and if I had the power to prevent it, not one should ever be caged. Especially do I regard it as cruel in the extreme to confine an adult bird, accustomed to freedom and able to take care of himself.
The question of "rights" we will not enter upon here, further than to say that our moral right to capture wild creatures for our own use or pleasure is the same in the case of birds as of other animals—horses, for example.
But birds are caged, and we must deal with circumstances as we find them. If a bird-lover should worry and fret himself to death, he could not put an end to their captivity. So it would appear to be the part of wisdom to see if there are not mitigating circumstances, which may comfort, and perhaps, in a slight degree, even reconcile one to their imprisonment.
The case of Canaries is different from that of all others. Hatched in cages, descended from caged ancestry, and accustomed to be cared for by people, they know no other life, and are utterly unfitted for freedom. So far from being a kindness to set one of these birds free, it is absolute cruelty. It is like turning a child, accustomed to a luxurious life, into the streets, to pick up a living for himself.
But a young bird, taken from the nest before he has learned the use of his wings, I believe, can be made perfectly contented and happy in a house—if he is properly cared for!
It is unfortunately true that not one in a thousand is properly cared for, but we are not considering the shortcomings of people. At this moment we are considering the possibility of making a bird's life happy.
For several years I kept birds in captivity, and closely studied their ways and their characters, and I say, without hesitation, that most birds can be made so contented and happy that they will prefer their captivity, with its several advantages, to freedom without them. The advantages of captivity to a bird are three; viz., abundant food supply, protection from enemies, ease of life—without labor or concern about weather.
The conditions, therefore, necessary to his happiness are: Never-failing care as to his physical comforts—such as a proper situation of the cage,—neither in the hot sunshine nor in a draught; fresh and perfect food, with variety; plenty of fresh water; suitable and regular bath, etc. And secondly—though perhaps it should be first, as it is most important—treatment as if he were a sentient being, instead of a piece of furniture; talking to him, taking notice of him, making a companion and friend of him. And thirdly, the freedom of a room, at least part of every day.
Under these conditions, as I know from close and sympathetic observation, our little brothers can be made so happy, that, as I said, many of them will not accept their liberty. They choose between freedom, with hard labor and many anxieties, and comfortable captivity, with ease and security, and many decide—as do many of the human family—for the former.
There is another reason why I have become partially tolerant of the caging of birds. What first influenced me was the fact that every individual rescued from the discomforts of a bird store, where they are seldom well cared for and never cherished, is greatly benefitted, and I felt that to be a work of charity.