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In Boston they were selling birds, birds that had been transported, or imported, from this country; but the canaries would not sing. I never heard a bird sing in America. The woods are dumb. There are no Dr. Norman Macleod when he was waxing enthusiastic linnets, no larks there; and as the old Scotchman said to about the forests of Canada, "Ay, but there are nae linties in the wuds." Of the birds they were selling in Boston not one would sing; yet one was got to sing. When the buyer, who had tried in vain to coax a song from the immigrant bird, set it free, you should have heard it when it felt itself on its wings, even though it was to it a foreign air. How it sang when it felt the free air about it! So, soul, when the law is realized to be fulfilled in your substitute, when you get grace to lay hold of him as a sinner, and appropriate what the Saviour has done once for all, you rejoice in God, as living in the faith.
"Free from the law, oh, happy condition! Jesus has bled, and there is remission."
By J. Wilbur Chapan, "Present Day Parables."
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