tion and on their earnest efforts in its behalf. But, as soon as they were clear about the true aim of government and understood that the sphere of the State’s action lies within the visible world, it must have been evident to them that anxiety about the eternal salvation of their subjects could be no concern of theirs, and that anyone who wanted to be saved there should see to it himself. From that time onwards they considered they were doing enough, if for the future they left to their original destiny the foundations and institutions that had originated in more pious ages. However unsuitable and insufficient they might be for totally changed times, they considered they were neither obliged to contribute to them by saving on their other aims, nor justified in interfering actively and setting useful innovations in the place of antiquated and useless things. To all proposals of this kind the ever-ready answer was: the State has no money for that. If an exception were ever made, it was to the advantage of the institutions for higher education, which shed splendour far and wide, and procured fame for their patrons. But the education of that class which is the real foundation of the human race, by which the higher culture is ever restored, and on which that culture must continually react—the education of the people remained neglected and, from the Reformation down to the present day, has been in a state of increasing decay.
166. Now, if for the future, and from this very hour, we are to be able to hope better things in this matter from the State, it will have to exchange what seems to have been up to the present its fundamental conception of the aim of education for an entirely different one. It must see that it was quite right before to refuse to be anxious about the eternal salvation of its citizens, because
