Of the ancient sages of the heathen world, so often talked of, and so loudly applauded, there is recorded little more than single maxims which they comprized in few words, and often inculcated;3 for these they were honoured by their contemporaries, and still continue reverenced and admired; nor would it either be justice or gratitude to depreciate their characters, since every discoverer, or propagator, of truth, is undoubtedly a benefactor to the world. But surely if single sentences could procure them the epithet of wise, Solomon may, for this collection of important counsels, justly claim the title of the wisest amongst the sons of men.4

Among all the vices against which he has cautioned us (and he has scarce left one untouched), there is none upon which he animadverts with more severity, or to which he more frequently recalls our attention, by reiterated reflections, than the vice of “pride”; for which there may be many reasons assigned, but, more particularly, two seem to deserve our consideration; the first drawn from the extensiveness of the sin; the other from the circumstances of the Preacher.

The first is the extensiveness of the sin. Pride is a corruption that seems almost originally ingrafted in our nature; it exerts itself in our first years, and, without continual endeavours to suppress it, influences our last. Other vices tyrannize over particular ages, and triumph in particular countries. Rage is the failing of youth, and avarice of age; revenge is the predominant passion of one country, and inconstancy the characteristick of another; but pride is the native of every country, infects every climate, and corrupts every nation. It ranges equally through the gardens of the east, and the desarts of the south, and reigns no less in the cavern of the savage, than in the palace of the epicure. It mingles with all our other vices, and without the most constant and anxious care will mingle also with our virtues. It is no wonder, therefore, that Solomon so frequently directs us to avoid this fault, to which we are all so liable, since nothing is more agreeable to reason, than that precepts of the most general use should be most frequently inculcated.

The second reason may be drawn from the circumstances of the Preacher. Pride was probably a crime to which Solomon himself was most violently tempted, and indeed it might have been much more easily imagined, that he would have fallen into this sin, than into some others, of which he was guilty; since he was placed in every circumstance that could expose him to it. He was a king absolute and independant, and by consequence surrounded with sycophants ready to second the first motions of self-love, and blow the sparks of vanity; to echo all the applauses, and suppress all the murmurs of the people; to comply with every proposal, and flatter every failing. These are tempters to which kings have been always exposed, and whose snares few kings have been able to overcome.

But Solomon had not only the pride of royalty to suppress, but the pride of prosperity, of knowledge, and of wealth, each of them able to subdue the virtue of most men, to intoxicate their minds, and hold their reason in captivity. Well might Solomon more diligently warn us against a sin which had assaulted him in so many different forms. Could any superiority to the rest of the world make pride excusable, it might have been pardoned in Solomon; but he has been so far from allowing it either in himself or others, that he has left a perpetual attestation in favour of humility, “that where5 pride cometh, there cometh shame, but with the lowly is wisdom.”

This assertion I shall endeavour to explain and confirm, First, by considering the nature of pride in general, with its attendants and consequences.

Secondly, by examining some of the usual motives to pride; and shewing how little can be pleaded in excuse of it.

Thirdly, by shewing the amiableness and excellence of humility.

First, by considering in general the nature of pride, with its attendants and consequences.

Pride, simply considered, is an immoderate degree of selfesteem, or an over-value set upon a man by himself, and, like most other vices, is founded originally on an intellectual falshood. But this definition sets this vice in the fairest light, and separates it from all its consequences, by considering man without relation to society, and independant of all outward circumstances. Pride, thus defined, is only the seed of that complicated sin against which we are cautioned in the text. It is the pride of a solitary being, and the subject of scholastick disquisitions, not of a practical discourse.

In speculation pride may be considered as ending where it began, and exerting no influences beyond the bosom in which it dwells; but in real life and the course of affairs, pride will always be attended with kindred passions, and produce effects equally injurious to others, and destructive to itself.

He that overvalues himself will undervalue others, and he that undervalues others will oppress them. To this fancied superiority it is owing, that tyrants have squandered the lives of millions, and looked unconcerned on the miseries of war. It is indeed scarcely credible, it would without experience be absolutely incredible, that a man should carry destruction and slaughter round the world, lay cities in ashes, and put nations to the sword, without one pang or one tear; that we should feel no reluctance at seizing the possessions of another, at robbing parents of their children, and shortening or imbittering innumerable lives. Yet this fatal, this dreadful effect, has pride been able to produce. Pride has been able to harden the heart against compassion, and stop the ears against the cries of misery.

In this manner does pride operate, when unhappily united with power and dominion; and has, in the lower ranks of mankind, similar, though not equal, effects. It makes masters cruel and imperious, and magistrates insolent and partial. It produces contempt and injuries, and dissolves the bond of society.

Nor is this species of pride more hurtful to the world, than destructive to itself. The oppressor unites heaven and earth against him; if a private man, he at length becomes the object of universal hatred and reproach; and if a prince, the neighbouring monarchs combine to his ruin. So that “when pride cometh, then cometh shame, but with the lowly is wisdom.”

He that sets too high a value upon his own merits, will of course think them ill rewarded with his present condition. He will endeavour to exalt his fortune, and his rank above others, in proportion as his deserts are superiour to theirs. He will conceive his virtues obscured by his fortune, lament that his great abilities lie useless and unobserved for want of a sphere of action, in which he might exert them in their full extent.

Once fired with these notions, he will attempt to encrease his fortune and enlarge his sphere; and how few there are that prosecute such attempts with innocence, a very transient observation will sufficiently inform us.

Every man has remarked the indirect methods made use of in the pursuit of wealth; a pursuit for the most part prompted by pride; for to what end is an ample fortune generally coveted? Not that the possessor may have it in his power to relieve distress, or recompense virtue; but that he may distinguish himself from the herd of mankind by expensive vices, foreign luxuries, and a pompous equipage.6 To pride therefore must be ascribed most of the fraud, injustice, violence, and extortion, by which wealth is frequently acquired.

Another concomitant of pride is envy, or the desire of debasing others. A proud man is uneasy and dissatisfied, while any of those applauses are bestowed on another, which he is desirous of himself. On this account he never fails of exerting all his art to destroy, or obstruct, a rising character. His inferiours he endeavours to depress, lest they should become his equals; and his equals, not only because they are so, but lest they should in time become his superiours. For this end he circulates the whisper of malevolence, aggravates the tale of calumny, and assists the clamour of defamation; opposes in publick the justest designs, and in private depreciates the most uncontested virtues.7

Another consequence of immoderate self-esteem is an insatiable desire of propagating in others the favourable opinion he entertains of himself. No proud man is satisfied with being singly his own admirer; his excellences must receive the honour of the publick suffrage. He therefore tortures his invention for means to make himself conspicuous, and to draw the eyes of the world upon him. It is impossible, and would be here improper, to enumerate all the fictitious qualities, all the petty emulations, and laborious trifles, to which this appetite, this eagerness of distinction, has given birth in men of narrow views, and mean attainments. But who can without horrour think on those wretches who attempt to raise a character by superiority of guilt? Who endeavour to excel in vice and outvie each other in debauchery? Yet thus far can pride infatuate the mind, and extinguish the light of reason.

But for the most part it is ordered by Providence, that the schemes of the ambitious are disappointed, the calumnies of the envious detected, and false pretences to reputation ridiculed and exposed, so that still “when pride cometh, then cometh shame, but with the lowly is wisdom.”

I am now to consider, in the second place, some of the usual motives to pride, and shew how little they can be pleaded in excuse of it.

A superiour being that should look down upon the disorder, confusion and corruption of our world, that should observe the shortness of our lives, the weakness of our bodies, the continual accidents, or injuries, to which we are subject; the violence of our passions, the irregularity of our conduct, and the transitory state of every thing about us, would hardly believe there could be among us such a vice as pride, or that any human being should need to be cautioned against being too much elated with his present state.8 Yet so it is, that however weak or wicked we may be, we fix our eyes on some other that is represented by our self-love to be weaker, or more wicked, than ourselves, and grow proud upon the comparison. Thus in the midst of danger and uncertainty, we see many intoxicated with the pride of prosperity; a prosperity that is hourly exposed to be disturbed, a prosperity that lies often at the mercy of a treacherous friend, or unfaithful servant, a prosperity which certainly cannot last long, but must soon be ended by the hand of death.

To consider this motive to pride more attentively, let us examine what it is to be prosperous. To be prosperous, in the common acceptation, is to have a large, or an encreasing, fortune, great numbers of friends and dependants, and to be high in the esteem of the world in general. But do these things constitute the happiness of a man? Of a being accountable to his Creatour for his conduct, and, according to the account he shall give, designed to exist eternally in a future state of happiness, or misery? What is the prosperity of such a state, but the approbation of that God, on whose sentence futurity depends? But neither wealth, friendships, or honours, are proofs of that approbation, or means necessary to procure it. They often endanger, but seldom promote, the future happiness of those that possess them. And can pride be inspired by such prosperity as this?

Even with regard to the present life, pride is a very dangerous associate to greatness. A proud man is opposed in his rise, hated in his elevation, and insulted in his fall. He may have dependants, but can have no friends; and parasites, but no ingenuous companions.

Another common motive to pride is knowledge, a motive equally weak, vain and idle, with the former. Learning indeed, imperfect as it is, may contribute to many great and noble ends, and may be called in to the assistance of religion; as it is too often perversely employed against it;9 it is of use to display the greatness, and vindicate the justice, of the Almighty; to explain the difficulties, and enforce the proofs, of religion. And the small advances that may be made in science are of themselves some proof of a future state, since they shew that God, who can be supposed to make nothing in vain, has given us faculties evidently superiour to the business of this present world. And this is perhaps one reason, why our intellectual powers are in this life of so great extent as they are.1 But how little reason have we to boast of our knowledge, when we only gaze and wonder at the surfaces of things? When the wisest, and most arrogant philosopher knows not how a grain of corn is generated, or why a stone falls to the ground? But were our knowledge far greater than it is, let us yet remember that goodness, not knowledge, is the happiness of man! The day will come, it will come quickly, when it shall profit us more to have subdued one proud thought, than to have numbered the host of heaven.

There is another more dangerous species of pride, arising from a consciousness of virtue;2 so watchful is the enemy of our souls, and so deceitful are our own hearts, that too often a victory over one sinful inclination exposes us to be conquered by another. Spiritual pride represents a man to himself beloved by his Creatour in a particular degree, and, of consequence, inclines him to think others not so high in his favour as himself. This is an errour, into which weak minds are sometimes apt to fall, not so much from the assurance that they have been steady in the practice of justice, righteousness and mercy, as that they have been punctually observant of some external acts of devotion. This kind of pride is generally accompanied with great uncharitableness, and severe censures of others, and may obstruct the great duty of repentance. But it may be hoped, that a sufficient remedy against this sin may be easily found, by reminding those who are infected with it, that the blood of Christ was poured out upon the cross to make their best endeavours acceptable to God.3 And that they, whose sins require such an expiation, have little reason to boast of their virtue.

Having thus proved the unreasonableness, folly, and odious nature, of pride, I am, in the last place, to shew the amiableness and excellence of humility.

Upon this head I need not be long, since every argument against any vice is equally an argument in favour of the contrary virtue; and whoever proves the folly of being proud, shews, at the same time, “that with the lowly there is wisdom.” But to evince beyond opposition the excellence of this virtue, we may in few words observe, that the life of our Lord was one continued exercise of humility. The son of God condescended to take our nature upon him, to become subject to pain, to bear, from his birth, the inconveniencies of poverty, and to wander from city to city, amidst opposition, reproach and calumny. He disdained not to converse with publicans and sinners, to minister to his own disciples, and to weep at the miseries of his own creatures. He submitted to insults and revilings, and, being led like a lamb to the slaughter, opened not his mouth.4 At length, having borne all the cruel treatment that malice could suggest, or power inflict, he suffered the most lingering and ignominious death.-God of his infinite mercy grant, that, by imitating his humility, we may be made partakers of his merits! To whom with the Father and the Holy Ghost be ascribed, as is most due, all honour, adoration, and praise, now and ever! Amen.5