that single exception is fatal. One after another the rest gradually open again, the whole thing breaks down, and thus a small minority tyrannise over the rest. It seems clear that nothing but legislation can remedy the evil. Voluntary action has been tried and failed over and over again; and the almost unanimous opinion of the witnesses examined before the House of Commons Committee was that it was hopeless to expect any shortening of the hours in that way. Such then is the present position of affairs, and, as I have said, the general feeling of the shopkeeping community is in favour of legislation. Even as long ago as 1873 the shopkeepers who came to me, with reference to the Bill I then proposed, expressed themselves in favour of a general compulsory closing. I then thought this was impossible. Only by degrees have I become convinced how deep and general this feeling is. This was strikingly demonstrated last summer. When there seemed some probability that our Bill might become law, our opponents believing that the shopkeepers generally would pronounce against it, induced the Lord Mayor to summon a great representative meeting of traders at the Mansion House. We had nothing to do with the invitations. They were issued by opponents of our Bill, who, however, courteously invited me to attend. Some 700 or 800 traders were present. I believe there was not a single assistant present; they were all shopkeepers. It was a thoroughly representative meeting. The gentlemen who called the meeting proposed a resolution condemning our Bill; but the meeting, to their great surprise, was overwhelmingly in its favour. Eventually the hostile resolution in deference to the strong feeling of the meeting was withdrawn, and one proposed by Mr. Stapley, and seconded by Mr. Crisp, was adopted by more than ten to one, as follows: "That, while heartily accepting Sir John Lubbock's Bill" (which has now become law), "which would undoubtedly confer a great benefit on young persons engaged in shops, this meeting earnestly prays Parliament to go further, and to add a clause enacting a compulsory general closing at eight o'clock on five days of the week, and at ten on Saturdays; a measure which would confer an inestinable benefit on the whole shopkeeping community, and relieve them from the intolerably long hours from which they now suffer." This resolution ran like wildfire round London. Meetings were held at once in Holloway, Paddington, Shoreditch, Kensington, Camden Town, and elsewhere, in fact, all round London, as well as in the provinces, at which the same resolution was enthusiastically, adopted. It sent a ray of light and hope into thousands of homes. At Liverpool a circular has been sent round to the shops asking whether they were in favour of compulsory closing or not. Two thousand answers were received, of which 1,770 were favourable, a few neutral, and less than 200 against. The evidence given before the House of Commons Committee showed that the feeling in London was equally strong. Mr. Jones told us that in the Holloway district they had canvassed 400 tradesmen, of whom 95 per cent. were in favour. Mr. Noel, who had inquired among his neighbours in Shoreditch, found them even more unanimous. Mr. Parker and Mr. Pomeroy gave similar evidence as regards Bermondsey. Witnesses from the provinces stated that the same view prevailed in Edinburgh, Dublin, Manchester, Newcastle, and elsewhere. I may say then that this is the shopkeepers' own Bill. I have introduced it at their request, and by their help I hope to carry it. I dwell on this point because it is so important to realise that this is no question of class against class; of shop assistants against shopkeepers. On the contrary, the shopkeers themselves, to their honour be it said, are themselves foremost in wishing to benefit their assistants by shortening the hours, and they ask Parliament to enable them to do so. The Bill which, at their request, I introduced in the autumn session, and which I shall bring forward as soon as Parliament meets in February, proposes to enact that every shop should shut at eight o'clock for five nights in the week and ten on the sixth, excepting public-houses and places of refreshment, tobacconists and newsvendors. The hour is also to be extended to ten P.M. on any day preceding' a public or bank holiday. It is also provided that if in any particular district any particular trade desires to obtain an extension of the time they are allowed to keep open under the ordinary application of the Act, two-thirds can make application to the local authority to obtain permission to remain open. The same clause provides that if in any district a particular trade wishes to grant a half-holiday two-thirds may make application to the local authority, who can give an order which would make the half-holiday compulsory for the whole trade. The thirteenth clause raises the penalty for Sunday trading to £1. It will be observed that on one important point we have departed from the recommen dation of the Committee. They suggested shopwomen to go on slaving for fourteen that the Act should leave to local authorities hours a day. the power of fixing an hour, and for this there is, at first sight, much to be said. The Shop Hours League, however, and, indeed, the shopkeepers generally, as far as I have been able to ascertain their opinion, entirely oppose this suggestion; they insist that the closing must be general. For instance, if the shops were shut at eight in Manchester, but not elsewhere, the result would be that the late business would be transferred to the shops immediately beyond the borough limits, and thus a great injustice might be done. What, then, are the objections? Our opponents raise two difficulties-firstly, that it would be an undue interference with trade; and, secondly, that it would not give artisans and their wives sufficient time for shopping. As regards the first point, I have shown that the Bill is introduced at the instance of the traders themselves. That it only gives effect to the wishes of the majority. The question is, whether a selfish minority shall rule the majority, or whether the majority shall rule the minority. Moreover, we already regulate the hours of shops for the sale of beer and spirits, so that the Bill introduces no new principle. As regards the second objection, I may observe that Mr. Thomas Burt, than whom no one knows better the views of the working classes, has most kindly assisted me in this matter, and his name is on the back of our Bill. Mr. Broadhurst was a member of the House of Commons Committee, and gave the most cordial support. I have consulted other leaders of the working classes, and they none of them see any difficulty. Indeed it would be extraordinary if working men, who have secured much shorter hours for themselves, really wished shopmen and One objection which was urged against the old Factory Acts cannot be brought against the Bill. It has no bearing on foreign competition. Under it all would be treated alike. The shops would do just as much business. There would not be a pound of tea or a yard of stuff sold less than now. Some few shopkeepers have objected because they say they do their best business after eight. Yes, and they would under the Bill do it before eight. That is the only difference and the great advantage. What is now done between eight and ten would be done between six and eight. The last two hours, moreover, are the most trying. After the gas is lit the air becomes hottest, driest, foulest, and most impure. This then is the state of the question. The witnesses examined before the House of Commons Committee were all but unanimously of opinion that voluntary action can not remedy the evil-which, indeed, some thought was growing worse. Without legislation there is little hope of shorter hoursthe lives of shopmen and shopwomen will still be the same weary monotony of shop and bed, a life of drudgery and an early grave. If this Bill passes, on the contrary, they have a hope of brighter and happier days, of stronger health and longer lives; in winter of leisure hours for study and amusement, happy evenings at home before their own fire with their family and friends; and in the longer days of pleasant walks in the sweet summer evenings. When this Bill is once passed every one will wonder it was not enacted before. No one can say that it would in any way injure trade, while it would brighten and prolong the lives of thousands of our countrymen and countrywomen. Ay, the month that looks two ways!-one face of it sad with Regret, the other glad with Resolve. A resting time, the "breathing hill" of the year of pilgrims. ITH a face look- | shall nestle in the chilly days that are coming either way, ing; or, conversely like our own brave English January, the holly, that holds out scarlet signals of a passmiddle month ing winter, and yet, remembering what nest of winter, holds it holds, keeps its leaves green and close for Autumn with the nightingale of coming summer. one hand and Spring with the other; a queer, empty sort of month, when Nature seems to let things alone, and, between the balanced attractions of either season, to stand, in cold neutrality, aloof. The impatient Spring may hazard a week of untimely warmth, and the sparrow, ever ready to be tempted, turns him, uxorious, to domestic joys. But Winter jealously supervenes, and the sun hangs crimson in a frozen sky, and the sparrows, too cold to care for appearances, sit ruffled up on contradicting water-pipes, scandalously apart, and drearily recriminate in chirps. One week the crocus, generous bulb! with a heart all too large for waiting, pierces the soft earth with its green needle-point of leaf. With the next comes Jack Frost, and alas! for the crocus. But January looks on and watches, and does not interfere. It is the month that waits upon the others, the narrow isthmus of two seasons. Like the rhododendron of the Himalayas, it clings on its bough-tips to the ruddy meinories of a summer of flowers that is past, but about its roots gather, in rustling heaps, the leaves where the pheasants I have called it an empty month, but it is only so in the seeming. Underground all the roots are resting; even the grass, which one would think might be glad of something to do, does not grow; it does not even take care of itself, is untidy and browned; under the hedges and in odd corners it revels in a medieval, Merovingian raggedness of growth. The trees and bushes stand about in a brown study, and the nests in them-"What more dreary cold, than a forsaken bird's nest filled with snow?"-are all to let, and dilapidated. Under the hedges the field-mouse and hedgesparrow go nervous and uncomfortable, for the thawing twigs drip upon them, and the leaves rustle under their feet. In the grey sky the rooks are blown about, uncertain of their objects, for the grubs are so deep under the soil that it seems hardly worth the birds' while to settle on the bare fields; the larks, gathered into companies, drift in aimless fashion from farm to farm; but the robin, with his sun-ripened breast, sits above you. on the medlar-tree, cheerily whistling the New Year in, and, if you care to listen, there seems a blither lilt in his voice than when, a |