Thorold Rogers referred, in his speech in the Bradlaugh debate of Monday, to the well-recognised connection between religions scepticism and political Conservatism, citing the classical instances in our literature, the abject Toryism of the atheistic Hobbes, and the very decidedly anti-popular tendencies of the agnostic Hume and the deistic Gibbon. We have never denied, but on the contrary always strongly asserted, that there is a real connection between the belief that man is groping his way in a universe where there is no being higher than man who concerns himself about our destiny, and that dread of the mines, so to say, which may be sprung upon us by the possibilities of the future, which is at the root of much Conservatism. But then, though we think that faith in the guidance of divine goodness has a real and very close connection with the belief that the past is the true preparation for a better present, and the present for a still better future, we cannot deny that the absence of that faith is perfectly compatible with either that horror of the unknown which clings as long and as tenaciously as it can to what it finds at least tolerable in the world as it is, or that horror of what is, which is ready to shatter it to pieces, on the mere chance of building something better out of the ruins. It is positive faith which, as it seems to us, cherishes at once reverence for the past and courage for the future. The absence of faith is a purely negative condition, so far as it goes, and you cannot tell what its political bias will be till you have some further data to go upon, such as, for instance, the sympathy of the sceptic with power, or rank, or wealth, which, if it exists, is sure to determine his scepticism in the Conservative direction; or, on the other, the sympathy of the sceptic with misery, humiliation, and rags, which, if it exists, is sure to determine his scepticism in the revolutionary direction. The man who profoundly believes that God has guided human history cannot possibly despise the teaching of experience, and cannot possibly doubt, that courage is our true attitude in looking to the future. But the opposite attitude of mind is perfectly consistent with very different tempers in relation to things as they are. He who regards that condition as a matter of fate or accident, or at least of fate or accident as slightly modified by that modicum of human wisdom to which the beat men in the best ages have been able to attain, may either think that though life is poor as it is, it would be very easy for things to go from bad to worse; or that life is so bad as it is, that it would be almost impossible for any rashness of revolutionary change to make it worse, and be quite willing, therefore, to play with Destiny for double or quits. Now, it is obvious that Hobbes, Hume, and Gibbon all belonged to the classes which had a very strong respect for things as they were. They were all more or less identified with the powers that be, and with the social prepossessions of the classes which have. But this has been absolutely untrue of the greater number of French sceptics, and accordingly in France you generally find scepticism combined with what many English sceptics look upon with horror as foolhardy revolt against law, with economic theories such as those of Proudhon, or politics such as those of Blanqui. In this country, we have not been wanting in sceptical revolutionists of the same sort, whether they have been poets like Shelley, or doctrinaires like Robert Owen, or iconoclasts like Bradlaugh. Nor can we see that there is any reason why such scepticism, when it begins with a prepossession against the present distribution of power and wealth, instead of a prepossession in its favour, should not be prepared to risk a good deal even of such existing well-being as it may admit, in the hope of securing a much more equal division of that well-being amongst the different orders of society.

Professor Thorold Roger's death has brought rather vividly before the world the very rough though highly intelligent and well-informed type of Radicalism of which he was one of the ablest of the surviving representatives. It is wholesome sometimes to remind ourselves that the same political creed in different men often results from the most different elements of character. Sir Walter Scott and Dr. Johnson were undoubtedly Conservatives because they reverenced the Past; Sir Robert Peel was a Conservative rather because he dreaded change, as a builder dreads meddling with a wall which he thinks likely to fall about his ears. Mr. Disraeli became a Conservative chiefly because he thought it easier to rule men by appealing to their old associations than by appealing to their love of innovation. And so it has been with Radicals. Cobden and Bright were Radicals chiefly because they had fully appreciated the mischief of the great Protectionist effort to improve upon Nature by a long series of artificial provisions of which they clearly discerned the folly. Shelley was a Radical because he fed his mind on an abstract ideal which he contrasted with the actual failures and injustices of life, and because he thought that by pulling down what was gross and evil, he should provide a breathing- space for loftier and sweeter emotions. Mr. Labouchere is a Radical probably because he despises the political institutions which he knows, not because he has much confidence in any that he hopes for. If idealism attaches itself to aspects of life which are venerable and fleeting, it makes a Conservative, and a hearty Conservative. If the same idealism attaches itself to visions of what may be, but has never yet been, it makes a Radical, and a hot Radical. Yet there is a very close resemblance in essence between the passionate idealism which clings to a dying past, and the sanguine idealism which builds castles in the air of the future. And it is the same with the realists.

There is a realism which makes men Conservative because they cannot believe in any substantial change of the human nature they know; and there is a realism which makes men innovators because they cannot endure the foolish complacency with which the obvious stupidities and injustices of the past are treated by those who propose to perpetuate them. So that the very same attitude of mind which, when it concerns itself with the vacant-minded complacency of optimists, turns men into cynics who treat substantial improvement as all but impossible, when it concerns itself with that equally vacant-minded complacency towards evils which might certainly be greatly attenuated, if not removed, turns men into rough-and-ready reformers. It is worth while to remember this when we wax indignant with the mistakes of either party. Perhaps the most dangerous of all reformers are those who, like Shelley, are made reformers by their passionate and inexperienced idealism. Perhaps the most dangerous of all Conservatives are those Conservatives who are made so by their imaginative delight in forms of social and political action which are rapidly becoming obsolete and impossible. It is the ultra-idealist who makes alike the most reckless reformer and the most reckless Conservative; and yet it is not the ultra-idealist whom we can ever in our hearts despise. We may think very badly of his sagacity and wisdom, but we can hardly think very badly of his eager devotion to even impracticable aims.

Professor Thorold Rogers was not a Radical of a dangerous type, for his Radicalism was not only curbed and moderated by a very large knowledge of economic facts, which are quite sufficient to prevent a man from crying for the moon, as reformers of the Shelley type are apt to do, but he was both a student and a rough sort of wit, and the habit of mind of either a student or a wit is not one which suits well the sanguine political visionary. His weakness was rather his strong party feeling than his abstract creed. He never could endure to hear people pouring forth their satisfaction with the existing condition of things, without striking a blow at such Philistinism; but he fell into similar Philistinism himself in his thick-and-thin advocacy of the democratic policy which was constantly quite as blind and undiscriminating, as that thick-and-thin advocacy of the Conservative policy which he resented with all his heart. He was a Radical of the Cobdenite type, but with somewhat less than Cobden's candour and openness of mind, for Professor Rogers had lived almost all his life amongst Oxford Conservatives of a very prosperous and comfortable school, and he rebelled against that prosperous Conservatism with all the heat of one who knew well what the physical sufferings of the masses have been, and, even though greatly ameliorated, must always continue to be, and he could not bear to see the serene satisfaction with which dignified and well-to-do persons who have won all their honours by a little diligence and a very moderate amount of talent, treat the miseries and troubles, not all of them beyond amelioration, of the great majority of their fellow-creatures. He was one of those Radicals who feel a strong impulse to make those persons uncomfortable who never realise how little merited is their own ease and comfort. And a great deal of Radicalism is no doubt due to that very primitive instinct of Radicalism. For even genuine Radicalism is by no means wholly due to sympathy with the miserable; a great deal of it is due to a sort of disinterested wrath against the complacency of classes who are a great deal more fortunate than they deserve to be, and who yet are very apt to think that all their good luck is due to their merits, and all its deficiency to their wrongs. A considerable proportion of modern Radicalism, and that, too, of by no means the most dangerous type, is due to half-generous, half-peevish class-vindictiveness. And of that there was no doubt a very large dash in Professor Rogers. He cannot have thought the progress of democracy too slow, and he must have had his doubts at times as to whether it was not too rapid; but he could not bear to throw his weight into the scale of resistance to what was called progress, if only on this account, that it so greatly alarmed those whom he loved to alarm, for which he cared quite as much as he did to serve those whom he loved to serve. The Radicalism which exults when the prosperous Conservatives can be made to tremble, is extremely common in this country, and is, in fact, more or less due to the existence of so much smug and unconscious conceit in the possessors of property and influence. It is the negative political current which seems to be excited by the mere strength of the positive current of sedate and complacent determination to hold fast by power and wealth and rank. We cannot regard Radicalism of this kind as an evil, because it is almost as much due to a natural force as the physical recoil of a gun; but it is not at all the kind of Radicalism to which we can trust as a guide in matters of political judgment, and the wonder is that men so highly furnished as Professor Thorold Rogers was, with all the means of checking it by the teaching of history and of philosophy, should give themselves up so frankly to its guidance. The truth is, we suppose, that he loved political buffeting as dearly as some men love boxing, and especially loved buffeting those who were quite unconscious of their own shortcomings. But he was by no means unaware of the follies to which eager Radicals are liable, and he would have been found one of the most strenuous foes of that Socialism which is the chief danger of modern Radicals. Perhaps we may think of Professor Thorold Rogers and of his class as the representatives of that Nemesis whom Nature prepares for the selfish and sleepy Conservatism of satisfied Englishmen. Such men will always prevent our settling down into self-complacency when we are disposed to think that we may "rest and be thankful." Indeed, Radicals of this class are rendered restless by the sight of rest, and feel under am imperious obligation to disturb the thankfulness of those who are thankful for their own merits.