The school of Radicals represented only too numerously in the present Parliament--unreasoning, ignorant of India, impulsive, narrow and insular--is also represented among the more recent importations of 'competition wallahs.' Baron Huebner met with many of them. 'In their opinion,' he says, 'the ideal of a sound English policy is the dismemberment of the British Empire, and above all the abandonment of India. To save England, it is necessary first to destroy her.' To the shrewd and experienced Austrian diplomatist, these ideas seem to be absolutely ruinous, but the oddity of it is that thousands of persons in England cling to them with a sort of idolatry, as if within them was compressed the sum and substance of human wisdom. The Radical party to-day lives upon these theories of dismemberment, although it is careful to keep its ultimate aim as much as possible in the background. In India, its adherents are doing an immense amount of harm. Baron Huebner seems to have been struck with amazement at the phenomenon. 'This is, indeed,' he exclaims, 'a curious and perhaps a unique spectacle--an immense administration, managed according to doctrines which are repudiated by the large majority of those who compose it.' The natives who are educated in our schools and colleges emerge from them filled with ideas of Socialism and Atheism. We break down their faith in their own creeds, without succeeding in inducing them to adopt Christianity. They find themselves free to construct a religion of their own, or to do without any religion. As regards the Government, they are led to believe that it ought not to be where it is, and that India should be ruled by its own people. The native press is full of sedition. Let us hear what Baron Huebner has to say upon this subject, for it is worth attention:-- 'Is there any public opinion in India? It is declared that there is none. And yet people agree in saying that the natives who have been educated in the State colleges have become singularly importunate of late years, that they are beginning to adopt a high tone, and that they take especial delight in criticising the acts of the Government, who, unwisely, as it seems to me, encourage if not provoke such criticism. These baboos and their newspapers, I am told, would only become dangerous at a crisis; and by a crisis is understood a disastrous European war. But the life of nations, like that of individuals, is nothing but a series of successes and reverses. Looked at from this point of view, the baboo is not such an insignificant being as he appears to be considered.'