e, tact and discrimination
often go for more than fervid bursts of oratory, or highly-concentrated
genius. In the region of politics, too, there are wheels within
wheels--an _imperium in imperio_. The House of Commons bears, in some
respects, a remarkable affinity to a puppet-show. You cannot always see
the magician who pulls the strings, and moves the political machine
obedient to his will. And of no man in the House of Commons is this more
true than of Mr. Dalglish. Unless one is under his magic spell, it is
impossible to understand its mainspring, although it is easy to feel its
effects. Ask the influential citizens of Glasgow to reveal the secret of
Mr. Dalglish's power, and they will mention two qualities, both very good
in their way but neither of them, one would think, sufficient to give
their possessor a transcendent influence in the most august and
intellectual assembly in the world. We would be told, first of his _bon
hommie_, and next of his punctuality and unfailing attention to his
Parliamentary duties. Put the same question to those who see behind the
scenes, however, and they would probably return another and a more
truthful answer by ascribing Mr. Dalglish's popularity to his _good
dinners_. In this respect he is unique. With almost unfailing regularity
he invites his friends and enemies alike to dine twice a week. We mean,
of course, his political enemies, for of personal enemies, Mr. Dalglish
must have very few. At these bi-weekly feasts, men of all shades of
politics, and of all degrees and stations in life, meet together with
the most delicious equality and freedom from restraint. Lord and
commoner, peer and peasant, marquis and merchant, are thrown into
immediate contact, and hob-nob without restriction or ceremony. The
unalloyed joviality and good humour of the host is imparted to the
guests, and while as a dispenser of creature comforts Mr. Dalglish stands
almost alone, he has a suavity of manner that disarms party feeling, and
compels a favour when it is asked for. It is not to be wondered at,
under these circumstances, that our Senior Member is the presiding
genius of the House of Commons' kitchen, or that in the administration
of cigars and wines he is perfectly at home. We all know that

"A fellow feeling makes us wondrous kind;"

and so long as human infirmities tend in the direction of a good dinner,
so long will Mr. Dalglish, whose unbounded hospitality must have cost him
quite a large