Of Mr. Dalglish's merits as our Parliamentary representative it behoves us to say something, and we can safely premise with the affirmation that few men have a greater personal influence in the House of Commons. Those who cannot see a little behind the scenes may wonder at this apparently rash statement, and ask--What has Mr. Dalglish done to give him a political influence? When has he ever made any brilliant speeches? What great measures has he succeeded in passing? Do you ever see his name even so much as mentioned in Parliamentary debates? To one and all of these questions the friends and admirers of Mr. Dalglish would almost be compelled to return a negative answer. To the uninitiated Mr. Dalglish, so far as any outward and visible manifestations of power and influence--of senatorial usefulness and ability--is concerned, will appear to be a mere cipher. But it does not require the meddlesomeness of a Whalley, or the volubility of a Newdegate, to make a politician. In politics, as in the minor affairs of life, 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