As they walked onward, the grass beneath the trees was strewed in some places with blossoms, which the recent thunder-storm had broken off; and whilst the little boys stooped to pick up some of them, exclaiming, "What a pity! what a pity!" their teacher availed himself of that opportunity, also, to teach them a lesson. "It is a pity," said he; "for each of them might have become a fine rosy apple; but they will not have fallen off in vain, if we learn this truth from the circumstance, that death sometimes calls away those who have scarcely yet begun to live to God. But it is cheering to see a young tree promising to be fruitful; and it is much more pleasing to see young persons likely to bear the fruits of wisdom and goodness."
"I remember, sir," said John, "that last year our pear tree was full of blossoms; but father said the blight had killed them." "Yes, my dear boy," said Mr. Fulton, "storms, and tempests, and blights also frequently disappoint our fondest expectations: so also there are moral blights, as I have sometimes told you in the class at school. You both remember poor George King, the orphan boy; how well he said his lessons, and how serious and attentive he was; but when his pious mother died, he fell into bad company, and is now a sad evidence that those who associate with the wicked have turned their backs upon the ways of God. O, then, flee from bad people, bad books, and bad scenes, as from that which will blight the best interests of your souls."
Their teacher had never had such a happy opportunity of conversing with them until now, and as they both seemed to look upon the trees around them as so many objects from which instruction might be gathered, he proceeded to point out a circumstance which had before escaped their notice; it was this, that where the branches had been sheltered from the passing tempest, there all the blossoms were unhurt. "Now," said Mr. Fulton to his young companions, "while thinking of our Saviour's language in this day's lesson, 'I am the Vine, ye are the branches,' we may learn not only that the life of our souls must be drawn from him, but that if we bring any fruit to perfection, it is the result of his most gracious and protecting care."
At this moment, Mr. Fulton's attention was drawn to one of the largest trees in the orchard, which seemed to surpass all the others in the beauty and abundance of its blossoms; but the boisterous winds had broken off a fine bough, one end of which lay spread upon the grass, whilst the other continued hanging by a long strip of bark which it had torn away in falling. It must have been some time in this situation; for the tree was not only full of blossoms, but was putting forth its green leaves in every direction, whilst, on this poor branch, there was not a trace of either bud or blossom; but it hung upon the ground both dry and dead.
This was too striking an object to be passed by without an observation; therefore their teacher immediately availed himself of it, to explain that part of the chapter which his scholars had been learning, in which the Saviour says "If a man abide not in me, he is cast forth as a branch, and is withered."
He felt very anxious also to impress upon their minds that true religion does not consist in being called a Christian, or in any outward distinction; but that it is a living principle in the heart.
"Without the fruit the Lord expects,
Knowledge will make our state the worse;
The barren trees he still rejects,
And soon will blast them with his curse."
"Now," said Mr. Fulton, "you see, my dear boys, that the broken bough has no life, because it is severed from the tree, and therefore gets no sap or moisture from the root. And as our Lord remarks, 'The branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine;' so the broken bough has not a bud or blossom, whilst the tree is full of both. You see then that there must be life and union, or there can be no fruitfulness; and as the root supplies the living sap to all the branches, so Jesus is the source of life to all his people. It is your blessing, my dear boys, to have godly parents; but do not think that this will prove a substitute for true religion in your own souls. See how the bough hangs to its parent tree by the strip of bark; it is true, they are not altogether parted; but, whilst the tree is living, the broken bough is dead. Learn, then, that without an interest in Christ and union to him, you must perish. No Christian relatives can save you; their life is drawn from him, but they cannot give that life to you. It is possible you may have thought yourselves almost disciples, because you have kept company with those who are such; but this fellowship, so long as you keep your hearts from Christ, is only like the strip of bark which holds the broken bough; no life flows from it. Let us then, on parting, each go home, and pray to Him who 'quickeneth whom he will,' (John v. 21,) to make us indeed living branches of the true vine."