we should know the blessings that belong to faithful believers and true worshippers. And there was a sort of behaviour about the church as if the people were in

earnest.

I was much pleased to see the two churchwardens sitting in their proper seat, ready to attend to any duties that might belong to their office. They had, each of them, a sort of wand, with a little gilt head to it, which gave a proper sort of character to them as appointed officers of the church. This would, I think, be useful in all churches, and would be a proper check in case of any disorder or disturbance. The churchwarden is a very important officer in the Church, and ought always to be present. A churchwarden makes a very solemn. declaration that he will attend to the duties of his office. I am happy to see that several of the principal inhabitants of parishes have, of late, undertaken the office of churchwarden, and seem to be desirous of exerting themselves that every thing about the church may be properly attended to. I have heard of places where the churchwarden is himself seldom at church. I should like to know how he can be said to perform the duties of his office. I am, Sir,

"Why boastest thou thyself, thou tyrant, that thou canst do mischief? whereas the goodness of God endureth yet daily.”—-Ps. lii. 1. WHAT a striking proof it is of the wisdom and of the truth of the Scriptures, that they are still as applicable to men as they were when first they were given. "Climates have changed, manners have changed, languages have changed, yet the Scriptures remain the same-equally divine, equally instructive, breathing words of knowledge and goodness to be found no where else.

The boastful man spoken of by the Psalmist, is to be found as commonly in these days as he was two thousand years ago. He still boasts of the mischief he can do, while God's goodness endureth yet daily. If one man offends another, how readily does the offended party

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boast that he has found means to revenge himself. is up to him," " he can give him as good as he brings;" in short, to hear men speak, and Christian men too, one would imagine that the precepts of their religion were, "Resist evil with all thy might; if another injure thee, do thou injure him fourfold." But what are the precepts given to us? "Resist not evil," " Avenge not thyself," and "Be perfect; even as your Father in heaven is perfect." Boast not thyself, therefore, that thou canst do mischief; but let thy goodness endure daily, so shalt thou resemble thy heavenly Father. We shall find in this, as in all other similar cases, that by following the precepts of the Gospel, we shall bring peace and comfort to ourselves even in this world; whereas by disobeying them we shall open a door to strife and misery. This will be seen very clearly in the story which I am now going to relate.

In one of our villages, where houses had become scarce from the increase of the population, one cottage became vacant, and a man of the name of Stewart applied for it. The landlord was not at home when he made the application; but his wife promised to tell him as soon as he came in, and satisfied him that the cottage was not let, bidding him call in the evening. He did so, but was then told that the landlord had before his return home promised the house to another man, Ned Simmons, and he could not therefore have it. Stewart was very much vexed, and began to abuse the landlord; but that would not do: he bade him leave the house, and shut to the door. His anger then turned upon Simmons; he was convinced that he had waylaid the landlord on purpose to get the house before him. He went to him and reproached him with having done this. It was in vain that Simmons denied having done any such thing; a quarrel ensued, which would have ended in a fight, but that a policeman from the neighbouring town chanced to walk by, and separated them. A few days after this, Stewart heard that the cottage next to the one Simmons had taken was to be had; and he instantly went and secured it, saying, "he should now have ample means of doing Simmons mischief, and of being revenged upon

him." It so happened that the comfort of both these cottages depended much on the inhabitants of them being good friends, and ready to accommodate one another. Simmons' cottage had a very good oven, Stewart's a copper for washing. The same staircase served for both houses, and the gardens were only divided by a very slight and low fence. It was, in short, intended that neighbours, not enemies, should live in them. There was a well at the bottom of the gardens for the use of both cottages. After Stewart had been settled a day or two in his new house, Mary Simmons came to ask what day she could have the use of the copper. Unfortunately John Stewart came in just at the moment, and answered in a very surly tone that she could not have their copper at all, and he wondered how she could think of such a thing; her husband had behaved ill to him, and he should now feel the effects of it. Mary answered quietly that it was usual for both cottages to have the use of the copper and the oven, and that if she did not have the copper, they could not have the oven. This was a sore stroke to Stewart, because he had long made his own bread, for he had quarrelled with the baker who supplied the village. But his spirit would not yield; he therefore made some angry answer to Mary, who directly went into her house and shut the door. Jane Stewart ventured to remonstrate with her husband, and tried to show him that, even for his own sake, he should live on friendly terms with his neighbours. "Forget and forgive, is the way to live," she smilingly added; but Stewart only grew angry, and boasted that he was a match for any one, and should fight it out. He made his words good so far as by doing all sorts of petty mischiefs, and annoying his neighbours in many different ways; but what did he gain by it? He made himself far more miserable than he did them: for Mary Simmons was a quiet sensible woman, and resolved not to quarrel. She bore, therefore, everything as patiently as she could, and never told her husband of any of John's spiteful tricks. John was the more vexed because he could not vex her; and he saw little chance of making good his boast that he would drive them out of that cottage.

When rent day came, Mary carried her quarter's rent to the landlord; he asked her how she liked her cottage. She told him very well; but she doubted if she could remain in it on account of her neighbour, and she then explained to the gentleman how badly Stewart had behaved to her. "I will see about that, Mary," he said kindly; "I know that man, and you shall not lose your cottage for him."

Stewart was not punctual with his rent, which gave the landlord good reason for calling upon him. He found him at home, but in no very gentle mood, for he had just been fighting with Simmons about the wellsome foolish dispute as to the use of the bucket.

"Well, Stewart," said the landlord, "how do you like your cottage?" "Not much, indeed," says Stewart; "I have no peace in it by day or by night,: one great fault is, there is no oven." "But you have the use of that one which is in the next cottage." No, we have not," answered Stewart, rather doggedly. "That must be your own fault, then," said the landlord; "are you not living upon good terms with your neighbours?" "How can I live on good terms with a man who has injured me as that Simmons has?" "How has he injured you?" asked the landlord. "Why, Sir, don't you

remember that he overreached me at first about the cot

tage? is not that injuring a man?" "Why, if you were still wandering and in the streets with your family, looking for a house, you would be to be pitied; but Simmons could not be said to be the cause of it, as he did not intentionally deprive you of the cottage. But I do not see what injury you can even fancy, for here you are in a cottage just as snug and tight as his own. If you have such a wish for that cottage in particular, I doubt not Simmons would have no objection to change with you, for as your garden is larger, and the cottage in some respects more convenient, it is generally preferred." "Oh, no," says Stewart, "I am not going to change." "Take care how you say that so positively," answered the landlord coolly, "for unless you can behave more kindly and neighbourly to Simmons this year than you did last, I shall give you notice to quit at Michaelmas.

You have, by the indulgence of a sinful and malicious temper, made yourself wretched, and have deprived your neighbours of some privileges which I, as their landlord, intended they should enjoy. You must therefore alter your conduct, or leave my cottage. I called to-day to ask why you had not paid up your rent; two quarters are now owing." "You may get your rent as you can; I'll stop here no longer;" and so saying, Stewart snatched up his hat and went out of the house, slamming the door after him with great violence. His poor wife looked frightened and abashed. "I am very sorry for you, Jane," said the landlord; "for as you have not joined your husband in this conduct, it is hard for you to share the punishment; but I doubt not you see that it is just." "Oh yes, Sir," answered Jane, "I know it is all my husband's fault; he is of such a revengeful spirit; Simmons and his wife were both willing enough to live peaceably with us if my husband had left them alone." "And what has he himself gained?" said the landlord; "nothing at all, while he has lost his comfort and peace of mind, and will lose his cottage. He must quit at Michaelmas, or, if he can find another cottage, I should like him to leave sooner.' Poor Jane's tears now began to fall fast. "After all," said she, "instead of injuring Simmons, as he boasted that he would, he has only injured himself and me. He never can live at peace, and so we are always in trouble." "When your husband has recovered his temper, you should try to show him this, that he may see it would be for his own interest and happiness here on earth to conquer this wicked temper;" and so saying, the landlord bade Jane good morning and left the cottage.

Such was the end of Stewart's wicked resolution to ruin Simmons, in revenge for, after all, a fancied injury; and he is not the first man who has lost his own comfort and peace of mind in trying to do mischief to others. It is in mercy that God has said, " Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord,"-it is in mercy that Christ has given us this promise, "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth." When any one offends us, the devil tempts us to resent it; and oftentimes the con