RAKING WITH THE TEETH UPWARDS.

WE were amused with the account given by a sensible old farmer, of a minister of his acquaintance, who he thought preached rather too smoothly, with too little application to the conscience. "Why," said he, "he seems to be a good man, but he will rake with the teeth upwards." Now this is very expressive; there is much meaning in it. Raking with the teeth upwards is as bad as sowing upon fallow ground without breaking it up. Raking with the teeth upwards will never gather the hay. the teeth upwards, or harrowing in the same manner, will smooth over the field, but will neither rake in the seed, nor rake out the weeds. A preacher knows not how to do his work, who rakes with the teeth upwards. The teeth of the gospel are not set in this way, but point down, into the heart and the conscience.

Raking with

Men of the world, and men after it, do not rake with the teeth upwards, but downwards. Politicians often rake with the teeth upwards. Flatterers always do, but the work which they do is not raking, but smoothing and covering over. Raking with the teeth upwards, in a preacher, is handling the word of God deceitfully. Raking with the teeth upwards is Satan's work; ye shall not surely die. Paul raked the Corinthians with the teeth downwards, and made them both sore and sorry. They sorrowed to repentance, and in this Paul rejoiced, for the gospel rake in his hand had done its work effectually.

In the pursuit of riches, men rake with the teeth downwards. There is Bunyan's Muckrake, for example. Men must rake with the teeth downwards, if they expect either to rake out principles or riches. Good principles, the things of sterling wisdom, are below the surface, and men must not only rake, but dig for them.

The work of the gospel is not surface work, but deep work. The gospel husbandry needs to be carefully and prayerfully performed. If men go sowing their seed by the wayside without care, the fowls of the air will come and devour it. There may be whole baskets of good seed, but if it is thrown away in this manner, little good can come of it. Here and there a seed may take root, but the likelihood is otherwise. The good husbandman will stir the soil, if possible, and not throw his seed to the fowls.

Our tract distributors are in one sense wayside sowers. But then, if they are faithful, they stir the soil, they use the rake with the teeth downwards. Whenever they can find a bit of soil that promises well, they soften and prepare it as much as possible, while dropping in the seed. Nor must the seed be withheld, because the soil is not promising, or because they are not permitted to use the rake or the harrow. Wherever soil is found, there the seed ought to be dropped; and prayer itself, if nothing else can be used, may be both spade, rake, and harrow. And when the rain of the Spirit falls, the seed, though "buried long in dust," shall be quickened.

HEART-LEARNING.

Ir is a striking idiomatic phrase of our language in the lips of children, learning by heart. "I have got it all by heart, every word of it." Things got by heart are generally lasting. But there is a great difference between getting things by heart and getting them by rote. Some things may be learned by rote, others can be learned only by heart. Too much of our learning is mere rote-learning, too little of it is real heart-learning. Heart-learning is the best; heart-learning stays by us.

Heart-learning is the only true learning in the School of Christ. There is head-learning, book-learning, word-learning, chapter-and-verse-learning, system-learning, but if it does not come to heart-learning, it is all useless. Heartlearning is heaven's learning. The angels know all things by heart, and the head-learning of saints on earth, in proportion as they get near to heaven, is all changed into heartlearning. Heart-learning is that celestial geometry, of which the Apostle speaks, the comprehension of the breadth and length, the height and depth in the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge. Heart-learning is the book of faith's natural philosophy, whereby we can understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God, and can hear their music,

"Forever singing as they shine

The hand that made us is Divine."

Heart-learning is the origin of true lip-learning, for with

the heart man believeth unto righteousness, and then with the mouth confession is made unto salvation, and the conversation is with grace, seasoned with the salt of Heaven. But on the other hand, if any man seem to be religious and bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth his own heart, that man's religion is vain. He has no heart-learning.

True scriptural-learning and true theological-learning is heart-learning. Many things may be gotten by the head, and there are many head-theologians, very subtle and speculative. But theology must be gotten by heart, or it is worthless. Head-learning may be other men's learning; heart-learning is our own. Head-learning is second-hand and imitative; heart-learning is original. Head-learning is dry study; heart-learning is experience. Head-learning is often filled up without prayer; heart-learning is gotten on one's knees, and with sighs and tears.

The lessons which are learned by heart, without prayer, have to be unlearned, for they are mostly the lessons of our depravity. If not unlearned and repented of, they are lessons of misery. The lessons of God's grace, learned by heart, stay by us to eternity, and bless us forever increasingly. The lessons of Divine grace, once learned, are never forgotten. Happy are they in whom the lessons of the word are lessons of grace, lessons gotten by heart. "Thy word have I hid in my heart, that I may not sin against thee."

MORAL DAGUERREOTYPES.

ONE is struck with amazement at the endless variety of expression fixed by the sun, and every instant there may be a new one. Now there is a moral in all this. It shows what a record there may be, when we little think of it, of what we do and what we are.

The sun takes our likenesses by the process of the Daguerreotype. No matter what the expression may be, there it is. There is neither concealment nor flattery. The sun takes exactly what he finds. If it be beauty or deformity, a noble emotion or a vile one, it is all the same to this impartial painter. He will not heighten the one, nor diminish the other, but brings out every feature, with every touch of character. All this without our intervention, at least without our will. There needs but to be given a face, and the sun will take it.

And what if this process were going on, invisibly to us, through some medium interfused in all nature? What if every play of emotion, every attitude, every design revealed in the countenance, every revelation, in fine, of the character in the face and deportment, were thus unalterably taken down, to be reproduced before us? What if every image of ourselves is kept, a copy of it, for the judgment? Suppose that a man could have his past being thus laid before himself in a succession of impressions from childhood to manhood, and from manhood to old age. Would any