That in a period of unbridled passions, the reaction against the common lawlessness should overstep moderation is natural. After the war, a crazy luxury in dress had begun; the women loved to make a shameless display of their charms, the dances were frivolous, the drinking carousals coarse, and the plays and novels often only a collection of impurities. Thus it was natural that those who were indignant at all this should choose to wear high dresses, simple in style and dark in colour, and that the women should withdraw from dances and other amusements; the drinking wine was in bad repute, the play not visited, and dances esteemed a dangerous frivolity. But zeal went still further. Mere cheerful society also appeared doubtful to them--men should always show that they valued little the transitory pleasures of the world; even the most harmless, offered by nature to men's outward senses, its smiling blossoms and the singing of birds, were only to be admired with caution, and it was considered inadmissible, at least on Sunday, to pluck flowers or to put them in the hair or bosom. That praiseworthy works of art should not find favour with the holders of such opinions was natural. Painting and profane music were as little esteemed as the works of the poets by whom the anxieties of earthly love are portrayed. The world was not to be put on an equality with the Redeemer. Those who follow not the ways of "piety," live in conformity with the world. He who thus withdraws himself from the greater portion of his fellow-men, may daily say to himself that he lives with his God in humility and resignation, but he will seldom preserve himself from spiritual pride. It was natural that the "Stillen im lande," as they early called themselves, should consider their life the best and most excellent, but it was equally natural that a secret conceit and self-sufficiency of character should be fostered by it. They had so often withstood the temptations of the world, so often made great and small sacrifices; and as they had the illumination of God's grace, they were his elect. Their faith taught them to practise Christian duties in a spirit of benevolence to man, to do good to others, like the Samaritan to the traveller, in the wilderness of life. But it was also natural that their sympathy and benevolence to others should be chiefly engrossed by those who had the same religious tendencies. Thus their mutual union became, from many circumstances, peculiarly firm and remarkable. It was not, in the first instance, particularly learned ecclesiastics who were Pietists; on the contrary, the greater portion of the clergy in 1700 stood firm to the orthodox point of view in opposition to them. But they lived more by the Gospel than the law; they sought carefully to avoid the appearance of exercising, as preachers, dominion over the consciences of the community. This captivated the laity--the strong minds and warm hearts of all classes,