tual face. There is plenty of bulldog tenacity in
it--plenty of animal courage, plenty of self-confidence; but it has none
of the rays of a strong intelligence, and not many glimpses of
kindliness or sweetness of nature. It is in the work of obstruction that
one sees temperament rather than intellect in the House of Commons.
Obstruction does not call for very high intellectual powers, though,
undoubtedly, obstruction can at the same time display the highest
powers.

[Sidenote: Artists in obstruction.]

For instance, Mr. Sexton made his first reputation in the House of
Commons by a speech three hours in duration, which was regarded by the
majority as an intentional waste of time and an obstruction of a hateful
Bill, but which everybody had to hear from the sheer force of its
splendid reasoning, orderly arrangement of material, and now and then
bursts of the best form of Parliamentary eloquence. But the
obstructionist wants, as a rule, strength of character rather than of
oratory--as witness the extraordinary work in obstruction done by the
late Mr. Biggar, who, by nature, was one of the most inarticulate of
men. It was because Biggar had nerves of steel--a courage that did not
know the meaning of fear, and that remained calm in the midst of a
cyclone of repugnance, hatred, and menace. Mr. Bartley, then, has the
character for the obstructive, and he rose blithely on the waves of the
Parliamentary tempest. But he had to face a continuous roar of
interruption and hostility from the Irish benches--those converted
sinners who have abjured sack, and have become the most orderly and
loyal, and steadfast of Ministerialist bulwarks. And now and then when
the roar of interruption became loud and almost deafening, there arose
from the Tory bench below the gangway that strange new claque which on
that Monday night I heard for the first time in the House of Commons.

[Sidenote: Mr. James Lowther.]

One other figure rose out of the sea of upturned and vehement faces at
this moment of stress and storm. When the Irish Members were shouting
disapproval there suddenly gleamed upon them a face from the front
Opposition bench. It was a startling--I might almost say a menacing
exhibition. It was the face of Mr. James Lowther. I find that few people
have as keen an appreciation of this remarkable man as I have. In his
own party he passes more or less for a mere comedian--indeed, I might
say, low comedian, in the professional and not in th