at a few steps removed--for
every Christian learns, as well as Paul, to say, "Not I, but Christ in
me." If, then, the will of Christ is not being fulfilled through us, if
there is good that it belongs to us to do, but which remains undone,
then the point of juncture with Christ is the point that needs looking
to. It is not some unaccountable blight that makes us useless; it is not
that we have got the wrong piece of the wall, a situation in which
Christ Himself could bear no precious fruit. The Husbandman knew His own
meaning when He trained us along that restricted line and nailed us
down; He chose the place for us, knowing the quality of fruit He desires
us to yield. The reason of our fruitlessness is the simple one, that we
are not closely enough attached to Christ.

How, then, is it with ourselves? By examining the results of our lives,
would any one be prompted to exclaim, "These are trees of
_righteousness_, the planting of the Lord that He may be glorified"? For
this examination is made, and made not by one who chances to pass, and
who, being a novice in horticulture, might be deceived by a show of
leaves or poor fruit, or whose examination might terminate in wonder at
the slothfulness or mismanagement of the owner who allowed such trees
to cumber his ground; but the examination is made by One who has come
for the express purpose of gathering fruit, who knows exactly what has
been spent upon us and what might have been made of our opportunities,
who has in His own mind a definite idea of the fruit that should be
found, and who can tell by a glance whether such fruit actually exists
or no. To this infallible Judge of produce what have we to offer? From
all our busy engagement in many affairs, from all our thought, what has
resulted that we can offer as a satisfactory return for all that has
been spent upon us? It is deeds of profitable service such as men of
large and loving nature would do that God seeks from us. And He
recognises without fail what is love and what only seems so. He
infallibly detects the corroding spot of selfishness that rots the whole
fair-seeming cluster. He stands undeceivable before us, and takes our
lives precisely for what they are worth.

It concerns us to make such inquiries, for fruitless branches cannot be
tolerated. The purpose of the tree is fruit. If, then, we would escape
all suspicion of our own state and all reproach of fruitlessness, what
we have to do is, not so much to find