Although at this time represented by two distinct associations, there appeared to be much in common between the Metropolitan sorters and the provincial sorting clerks. Their entrance into the service, the similarity of their pay prospects, and the character of their duties, entitled the London sorters to class themselves with their provincial brethren. They had urged that they were in reality sorting clerks, and were referred to as such by Mr. Fawcett in his 1881 scheme. But it was just on this point that the “Luminous Committee” settled the whole matter against them. The equality that existed between the provincial sorting clerks and the provincial telegraphists, it was thought, should find an analogue in the Metropolitan telegraphists and sorters, and that was the whole ground of the difference, as already reviewed. Still if there were not equality in one case, there was in another, for except in title the pay and prospects and conditions of sorting clerks and sorters were almost identical; while their grievances were, except on the enforced Sunday duty question, also similar. Seeing there was so much in common between these two bodies, it would therefore not have been surprising had they made common cause for the purpose of getting their grievances redressed on a similar basis. It was not so, however, and the connection between them never went beyond a friendly intercourse, and the ordinary amenities of unionism. There was, however, a journal started at this period in Birmingham, intended mainly for circulation among sorting clerks, but to which Metropolitan men were invited to contribute. The sorters already had the _Post_, which had now become the property of the association; but the new _Postal Review_ was taken up with some enthusiasm among them. The _Postal Review_ might have become a permanent link of friendly connection, and a handy vehicle for the intercommunication of ideas leading to more important results perhaps, but for a slip that occurred. At the inaugural meeting of the Fawcett Association, 10th February 1890, a leaflet was distributed having for its object the promotion of the sale of this monthly journal, and two of the sorters were advertised as its wholesale and retail agents for the London postal service. The leaflet, after announcing that the _Postal Review_ had over 300 contributors in different parts of the country, representing so many distinct offices, referred to many of these contributors as “being in confidential positions, and having access to the most important and valuable information, which,” the leaflet went on to say, “when occasion arises or exigencies demand, will be laid before the readers of the _Postal Review_.” The leaflet in question, so far from carrying out its purpose, was the means of abruptly breaking off negotiations with the provinces; for there was an immediate official inquiry, and the two sorters whose names were mentioned as agents were promptly called on to