effect that he contemptuously printed it with a few lines of comment in his own organ, the _Post_, of June 7, 1890. Yet in spite of this free advertisement there was no response to the appeal of the general secretary of the Postmen’s Union, and, so far as was known, not a single sorter joined. The manifesto was a creditable literary production, for Mr. Mahon could write as well as speak, but the only thing he could boast of having done in a period of eight months was to have formed “a rapidly-growing union with a weekly contribution.” From this declaration it was further gathered that the principal reason for its existing at all was to assert “the right of public meeting and demonstration,” in defiance of an official regulation now so modified as to be no longer regarded as harsh. This was the main point of difference between the postmen’s policy and that of the sorters. The sorters had won the right of public meeting fairly, squarely, and constitutionally, and Mr. Raikes was pleased to acknowledge it; the postmen, as led by their outside leader, asserted the full right of public meeting without restriction and without control from headquarters. It was a very proper thing perhaps, but in the circumstances it was hardly the time of day to demand it. The sorters, by quietly pursuing constitutional methods, were very little behind the postmen in point of outside meeting, only in the one case it was acknowledged as a right and in the other they committed outlawry, and by so doing injured their own case. The Postmaster-General was severely autocratic in rule, yet, when properly approached, he had gone considerably out of the beaten tracks of officialdom in granting the right of public meeting conditionally. Only a little while longer and the last shackle was to be knocked off. Yet this did not suit the postmen’s leader, and his followers were made to think that it could not be accepted by them. They were betrayed into pursuing the ideal of an abstract principle in preference to urging their more useful and legitimate demand for boots and better wages. The boots and other things to which they were as justly entitled were forgotten in the glamour of the right of public demonstration. Instead of making do with the farthing rushlight for the time being, they committed the fatal mistake of running after the will-o’-the-wisp which was to land them in the morass of humiliation and disaster. Finding the leaders of the Postmen’s Union could not be persuaded to return to the slower but surer methods of constitutional propaganda, Clery left that body with the intention of devoting himself exclusively to the work of his own organisation.