So that, with regard to the present inconveniences, there is scarce any vice, bating such as are immediately punished by laws, which a man may not indulge with more safety to himself than this one of pride, the humblest of men not being so entirely void of the passion themselves, but that they suffer so much from the overflowings of it in others, as to make the literal accomplishment of the text a common interest and concern; in which they are generally successful,-the nature of the vice being such, as not only to tempt you to it, but to afford the occasions itself of its own humiliation.

The proud man,-see !-he is sore all over; touch him, you put him to pain; and though, of all others, he acts as if every mortal was void of all sense and feeling, yet is possessed with so nice and exquisite a one himself, that the slights, the little neglects and instances of disesteem, which would be scarce felt by another man, are perpetually wounding him, and oft-times piercing him to his very heart.

I would not, therefore, be a proud man, was it only for this, that it should not be in the power of every one who thought fit to chastise me :-my other infirmities, however unworthy of me, at least will not incommode me so little discountenance do I see given to them, that it is not the world's fault if I suffer by them but here,-if I exalt myself, I have no prospect of escaping-with this vice I stand swoln up in every body's way, and must unavoidably be thrust back. Whichever way I turn whatever step I take under the direction of this pas sion, I press unkindly upon some one; and, in return, must prepare myself for such mortifying re

pulses as will bring me down, and make me go on my way sorrowing.

This is from the nature of things, and the experience of life as far back as Solomon, whose observation upon it was the same, and it will ever hold good, "that before honour was humility, and a haugh"ty spirit before a fall :-put not therefore thyself "forth in the presence of the king, and stand not in "the place of great men :-for better is it"-(which, by the way, is the very dissuasive in the text)"better is it that it be said unto thee, Friend, come 66 up higher, than that thou shouldst be put lower "in the presence of the prince whom thine eyes "have seen."

Thus much for the illustration of this one argument of our Saviour's against pride.-There are many other considerations which expose the weakness of it, which his knowledge of the heart of man might have suggested; but, as the particular occasion. which gave rise to this lecture of our Saviour's against pride, naturally led him to speak of the mor tifications which attend such instances of it as he then beheld, for this reason, the other arguments might be omitted, which perhaps, in a set discourse, would be doing injustice to the subject. I shall, therefore, in the remaining part of this, beg leave to offer some other considerations, of a moral as well as a religious nature, upon this subject, as so many inducements to check this weak passion in man, which, though one of the most convenient of his infirmities, the most painful and discourteous to society, yet, by a sad fatality, so it is, that there are few vices, except such whose temptations are immediately seated in our natures, to which there is so general a propensity throughout the whole race.

This had led some satirical pens to write, That all mankind, at the bottom, were proud alike;-that one man differed from another not so much in the different portions which he possessed of it, as in the different art and address by which he excels in the management and disguise of it to the world: we trample, no doubt, too often upon the pride of Plato's mantle, with as great a pride of our own; yet, on the whole, the remark has more spleen than truth in it, there being thousands (if any evidence is to be allowed) of the most unaffected humility, and truest poverty of spirit, which actions can give proof of. Notwithstanding this, so much may be allowed to the observation, That pride is a vice which grows up in society so insensibly,-steals in unobserved upon the heart upon so many occasions,-forms itself upon such strange pretensions, and, when it has done, veils itself under such a variety of unsuspected appearances, sometimes even under that of humility itself;-in all which cases, self-love, like a false friend, instead of checking, most treacherously feeds this humour,-points out some excellence in every soul to make him vain, and think more highly of himself than he ought to think;-that, upon the whole, there is no one weakness into which the heart of man is more easily betrayed, or which requires greater helps of good sense and good principles to guard against.

And, first, the root from which it springs is no inconsiderable discredit to the fruit.

If you look into the best moral writers, who have taken pains to search into the grounds of this pas sion, they will tell you, that pride is the vice of little and contracted souls ;-that, whatever affecta

tion of greatness it generally wears and carries in the looks, there is always meanness in the heart of ita haughty and an abject temper, I believe, are much nearer a-kin than they will acknowledge ;like poor relations, they look a little shy at one another at first sight; but, trace back their pedigree, they are but collateral branches from the same stem; and there is scarce any one who has not seen many such instances of it, as one of our poets alludes to, in that admirable stroke he has given of this affinity, in his description of a " Pride which licks the dust."

As it has meanness at the bottom of it, so it is justly charged with having weakness there too; of which it gives the strongest proof in regard to the chief end it has in view, and the absurd means it takes to bring it about.

Consider a moment :-What is it the proud man aims at !-why,such a measure of respect and deference, as is due to his superior merit, &c. &c.

Now, good sense and a knowledge of the world shew us, that how much soever of these are due to a man, allowing he has made a right calculation,— they are still dues of such a nature, that they are not to be insisted upon: honour and respect must be a free-will offering treat them otherwise, and claim them from the world as a tax,-they are sure to be withheld; the first discovery of such an expectation disappoints it, and prejudices your title to it forever.

To this speculative argument of its weakness, it has generally the ill fate to add another of a more substantial nature, which is matter of fact: That to turn giddy upon every little exaltation, is experienced to be no less a mark of a weak brain in the

figurative, than it is in the literal sense of the expression in sober truth, 'tis but a scurvy kind of a trick, (quoties voluit Fortuna jocari) when fortune, in one of her merry moods, takes a poor devil with this passion in his head, and mounts him up all at once as high as she can get him ;—for it is sure to make him play such phantastick tricks, as to become the very fool of the comedy; and was he not a general benefactor to the world in making it merry, I know not how spleen could be pacified during the representation.

A third argument against pride, is the natural connection it has with vices of an unsocial aspect: the scripture seldom introduces it alone.-Anger, or strife, or revenge, or some inimical passion, is ever upon the stage with it; the proofs and reasons of which I have not time to enlarge on, and therefore shall say no more upon this argument than this, That was there no other, yet the bad company this vice is generally found in, would be sufficient by itself to engage a man to avoid it.

Thus much for the moral considerations upon this subject; a great part of which, as they illustrate chiefly the inconveniences of pride in a social light, may seem to have a greater tendency to make men guard the appearances of it, than conquer the passion itself, and root it out of their nature. To do this ef fectually, we must add the arguments of religion; without which, the best moral discourse may prove little better than a cold political lecture, taught merely to govern the passion so, as not to be injuricus to a man's present interest or quiet; all which a man may learn to practise well enough, and yet at the same time be a perfect stranger to the best part of