He yells, bellows, and twists himself about, puts all his statements with ridiculous exaggeration--altogether, so overdoes the part that it is only the wildest and emptiest Tory who is taken in by him.

What spoils the whole thing to my mind is that it is all so evidently artificial--so palpably pumped up.

Clapping his hand on his breast, lifting his shaky fingers to Heaven, Mr.Russell is always in a frenzied protestation of honesty, of rugged and unassailable virtue, of bitter vaticination against the wickedness of the rest of mankind.

No man could be as honest as he professes to be, and live.

The whole thing would be exquisite acting if, underneath all this conscious exaggeration, you did not see the mere political bravo.