hard by, and do all the household work themselves, Well done, Xavierians! you will never be aggravated with the great difficulty of domestic life—­servant-maidism; will never have to solve the solemn question as to when it is “Susan’s Sunday out;” will never be crossed by a ribbon-wearing Jemima, nor harrowed up in absent moments by pictures of hungry “followers” fond of cold joints and pastry.  In addition to looking after the school, the Xavierians in question give religious instruction at nights, and on Sundays, to the children attending St. Ignatius’s school in Walker-street.  The Sunday after we visited the church, about fifty whom they had been training, received their “first communion,” and in addition, got a medal and their breakfast given,—­two things which nobody despises as a rule, whether on the borders of religious bliss or several miles therefrom.  The school in Walker-street is attended, every day, by about 400 boys and infants, and is in an improving condition.  The Sunday schools are in a very flourishing state; the girls attending them numbering about 650, and the boys about 500.  Taking all into account, a great educational work is being carried on in the district of St. Ignatius.  The importance of secular and religious instruction is fully appreciated by the priests; they know that such instruction moulds the character, and tells its tale in after life; they are active and alive to the exigences of the hour; are on the move daily and nightly for the sake of the mind and the soul; and they, like the rest of their brethren, set many of our Protestant parsons an example of tireless industry, which it would be well for them to imitate, if they wish to maintain their own, and spread the principles they believe in.

VAUXHALL-ROAD PARTICULAR BAPTIST CHAPEL.

“Don’t be so particular” is a particularly popular phrase.  It comes up constantly from the rough quarry of human nature—­is a part of life’s untamed protest against punctilliousness and mathematical virtue.  Particular people are never very popular people, just because they are particular.  The world isn’t sufficiently ripe for niceties; it likes a lot, and pouts at eclectical squeamishness; it believes in a big, vigorous, rough-hewn medley, is choice in some of its items, but free and easy in the bulk; and it can’t masticate anything too severely didactic, too purely logical, too strongly distinct, or too acutely exact.  But it does not follow, etymologically, that a man is right because he is particular.  He may be very good or very bad, and yet be only such because he is particularly so.  Singularity, eccentricity, speciality, isolation, oddity, and hundreds of other things which might be mentioned, all involve particularity.  But we do not intend, to “grammar-out” the question, nor to disengage and waste our gas in definitions.  The particular enters into all sorts of things, and it has even a local habitation and a name in religion.