Pride in Christian preaching is the dangerous overestimation of oneself that blinds believers to God's grace and the needs of others, often leading to downfall (Proverbs 16:18). Illustrations use images like mirrors obscured by silver, moth-eaten garments, and false measurements to depict how pride distorts true self-understanding and disrupts spiritual growth (James 4:6).
Feigning humility can itself be a form of pride and hypocrisy.
Antisthenes, on a time, walked in the common place at Athens, with a cloak all torn and tattered, that every one beholding it might judge that he did it through humility; but Socrates, having discovered the hypocrisy, said that he saw his ambition through the holes of his cloak. Diogenes, once entering Plato's chamber, discovered his bed neatly made, and, jumping upon it, trampled it down, saying that he trampled down Plato's pride. Plato answered, that it was done with greater pride.
Pride is useless if only displayed and not used for good purpose.
Goldsmith tells of a mandarin who appeared with jewels on every part of his robe. He was once accosted by a sly old fellow, who, following him through several streets, bowed often to the ground, and thanked him for his jewels. "What does the man mean?" cried the mandarin: "I never gave you any of my jewels." — "No," replied the other; "but you have let me look at them, and that is all the use you can make of them yourself: so the only difference between us is, that you have the trouble of watching them; and that is an employment I don't much desire."
Outward adornment often reveals hidden pride within a person.
A lady once asked a minister whether a person might not be fond of dress and ornaments without being proud. The minister replied, "When you see the fox's tail peeping out of the hole, you may be sure the fox is within."
Pride can be shown both in extravagance and in sordidness.
Diogenes, being at Olympia, saw at that celebrated festival some young men of Rhodes arrayed most magnificently. He exclaimed, "This is pride!" Afterwards, meeting with some Lacademonians in a mean and sordid dress, he said, "And this is also pride."
Pride expresses itself in many ways, affecting all parts of a person.
As the most contagious diseases do use to break out in several parts of man, so pride will not be stinted to any particular place: but now it expresses itself in our eyes; now it takes possession of our tongues; it appropriates this man's hand unto its use; in another's garments it useth to cloak itself; and sits with so much settled gravity in another's carriage, as a hundred preachers could not remove it thence. Some again there are who affect such a kind of careless behavior, as, if you did not know the secret arts they have to profess their pride and sumptuities in banquets, edifices, their children's breeding, the splendor of their retinue and their furniture, you would imagine them sworn enemies of so much vanity. Drexcius.
Pride leads to a fall that humbles a person more than their initial boasting.
As we see a child, who, whilst he runs up and down to show his new clothes, stumbles and falls, and, seeing his clothes soiled in the dust, he cries louder at his fall than he crowed at his new coat; so God has put many graces upon thee. Thou crowest at the sight of them, as Nebuchadnezzar died at the sight of his palace; and, like a fool, thou art in admiration of thyself, till thou stumblest over thine own gifts. When thou art down, thou who didst crow like a fool dost very like a child, because thou seest thy coat of many colors stained and soiled by thy fall.
— Cawdray
People may venerate even their deformities out of pride.
The inhabitants of the sides of the Alps, where the goitre prevails, come to regard it with veneration. The repulsive wallet-like excrescences swing from their necks only to increase their pride. Those who are not thus deformed they call, tauntingly, "goose-necked."
Pride is deeply ingrained in human nature and dies only with us.
The demon of pride was born with us; and it will not die one hour before us. It is so woven into the very warp and woof of our nature, that, till we are wrapped in our winding-sheets, we shall never hear the last of it. Spurgeon.
Pride kills gratitude because proud people feel they deserve more.
Pride slays thanksgiving; but a humble mind is the soil out of which thanks naturally grow. A proud man is seldom a grateful man; for he never thinks he gets as much as he deserves. When any mercy falls, he says, "Yes; but it ought to be more. It is only manna as large as a coriander-seed, whereas it ought to be like a baker's loaf." Beecher.
Pride inflates self-importance and leads to rebellion against rightful authority.
Alexander's great success so inflated his pride, that he despised his father, put on the costly Persian garb, and finally declared himself to be the son of Jupiter.
Spiritual pride blinds us to our true poverty and need for God's mercy.
Naturalists find it much less easy to teach a mountain-flower to accommodate itself to a low locality than to get one which by birth belongs to the valleys to live and thrive at a lofty elevation. So there seems nothing more difficult to men than to descend gracefully. How few who have been accustomed to a high position in society are able to reconcile themselves to a humble one! . . . So it is with us in our low and lost estate. Spiritually poor, we are spiritually proud, saying, "I am rich, and increased in goods, and have need of nothing;" while we are "wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked." Even when we are in some degree sensible of our poverty, and know we cannot pay, like the unjust steward, we are ashamed to beg. Indulging a pride out of all keeping "with filthy rags," we will not stoop to stand at God's door, poor mendicants, who ask for mercy. Guthrie.
Pride can be easily inflated but also quickly deflated by a small cause.
Spencer says, that only a little wind is required to expand a bladder to great size, when, if a few beans be put into it, and shaken, the noise will frighten an army; but only a pin is required to reduce it to insignificance again.
Pride is often based on superficial qualities that have humbling counterparts.
The peacock, beholding only its gay feathers, may be inflamed with pride; but a look at its ugly feet will soon abate this. So with men. If there is beauty, wealth, fame, success, or any other thing that will engender pride, there is also some counterpart to it to keep us humble.
Prideful boasting invites sudden judgment and loss from God.
A rich South-American farmer called the attention of a guest to his vast droves of horses, saying, "Think you, general, that I shall ever be in want of horses?—not even if God Almighty wished it." Soon after, an epidemic swept off every horse the blasphemer had. Pace.
Self-pride is a constant companion in all human experiences and emotions.
Self-pride is the common friend of our humanity, and, like the bell of our church, is resorted to on all occasions: it ministers alike to our festivals or our fasts, our merriment or our mourning, our weal or our woe. Colton.
Spiritual pride leads to downfall and loss of God's favor and blessings.
There never was a saint yet that grew proud of his fine feathers, but what the Lord plucked them out by and by; there never yet was an angel that had pride in his heart, but he lost his wings, and fell into Gehenna, as Satan and those fallen angels did; and there shall never be a saint who indulges self-conceit and pride and self-confidence, but the Lord will spoil his glories, and trample his honors in the mire, and make him cry out yet again, "Lord, have mercy upon me," less than the least of all saints, and the "very chief of sinners." Spurgeon.
Worldly greatness is ultimately meaningless and ends in nothingness.
When Severus, Emperor of Rome, found his end approaching, he cried out, "I have been every thing; and every thing is nothing." Then, ordering the urn to be brought to him in which his ashes were to be enclosed on his body being burned, he said, "Little urn, thou shalt contain one for whom the world was too little."
Wealth is insignificant compared to the vastness of the world and should not inflate pride.
Alcibiades was one day boasting of his wealth and great estates; when Socrates placed a map before him, and asked him to find Attica. It was insignificant on the map; but he found it. "Now," said the philosopher, "point out your own estate."—"It is too small to be distinguished in so little a space," was the answer. "See, then!" said Socrates "how much you are affected about an imperceptible point of land."
Pride leads to fatal procrastination in obeying God's commands, risking eternal consequences.
William III., in order to quell a rebellion in the north of Scotland, issued a proclamation to all the rebel chiefs to appear at a given place on or before the 31st of December, 1691, and take the oath of allegiance to the king. Those that did not appear were to be treated as outlaws, and liable to be put to death as traitors to the crown. With their few followers, it was useless to rebel, though humiliating to their pride. One by one gave way; and all had affixed their names to the paper, except one. Mac Ian was the leader of the smallest yet haughtiest tribe: he did not intend to finally resist; but he hoped to be the last of the Scottish chiefs to submit. A day or two before the 31st, he started. A severe snow-storm impeded his way; and he did not arrive till nearly a week after the king's messenger had returned to London. A band of soldiers immediately sought the Valley of Glencoe; and Mac Ian and his followers became victims to his proud obstinacy. How many in our day hazard their souls, as Mac Ian hazarded his life, by refusing to obey the commands of the King of kings!
Self-complacency leads to prideful boasting like the rich man storing up goods.
Self-complacence, that is, greatly delighting in one's self, or in the goods which he fancieth himself to enjoy, or in the works which he performeth; when men in the contemplation of their works and achievements go strutting about, and saying with that vain prince, "Is not this great Babylon that I have built?" when, reflecting on their possessions, they applaud and bless themselves, like the rich man in the gospel: "Soul," saith he, looking upon his accumulated store, "thou hast much goods laid up for many years." Dr. Barrow.
Loving oneself excessively leads to spiritual death, as shown by Narcissus.
One day, Narcissus, who had resisted all the charms of others, came to an open fountain of silvery clearness. He stooped down to drink, and saw his own image, and thought it some beautiful water-spirit living in the fountain. He gazed, and admired the eyes, the neck, the hair, the lips. He fell in love with himself. In vain he sought a kiss and an embrace. He talked to the charmer, but received no response. He could not break the fascination, and so he pined away and died. The moral is, think not too much nor too highly of yourself.
Self-sufficiency breeds dissatisfaction with others and damages relationships.
A man who shows himself too well satisfied with himself is seldom pleased with others; and they, in return, are little disposed to like him.
— La Rochefoucauld
Pride after victory can lead to sudden downfall and destruction.
Two cocks contended for the sovereignty of a dunghill. The fight was cruel and bloody, and was maintained for a long time with equal advantage on both sides. At last, one retires, and goes and hides himself in a hole. The conqueror flies upon the top of a house, claps his sides with his wings, and proudly crows over his victory. A vulture that was hovering in the air heard him, and spied him out: he fell suddenly upon him, and carried him off in his talons.
Many troubles arise from pride and misperceiving blessings as curses.
I think half the troubles for which men go slouching in prayer to God are caused by their intolerable pride. Many of our cares are but a morbid way of looking at our privileges. We let our blessings get mouldy, and then call them curses. Beecher.
Riches can blind others to a person's true foolishness until prosperity fades.
Nothing hides a blemish so completely as cloth of gold. — Hare. — As riches and favor forsake a man, we discover him to be a fool; but nobody could find it out in his prosperity. — La Bruyère.
A nobleman proudly displayed his extensive genealogy to King James I.
King James I., in his 49 progress into England, was entertained at Lumley Castle, the seat of the Earl of Scarborough. A relative of the noble earl was very proud in showing and explaining to his majesty an immensely large genealogical line of the family;
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### 20. Anger Indulged.
Pride appears both in excessive finery and in sordid, mean dress—both extremes are sinful.
Diogenes being at Olympia, saw at the celebrated festival some young men of Rhodes, arrayed most magnificently. Smiling, he exclaimed, "This is pride." Afterwards meeting with some Lacedemonians in a mean and sordid dress, he said, "And this is also pride."
Pride is found at the same opposite extremes in dress at the present day.
Setting the heart on or against fashions is equally sinful pride and misplaced focus.
I was once requested, says Dr. Lathrop, to preach against prevailing fashions. A remote inhabitant of the parish, apparently in a serious frame, called upon me one day, and pressed the necessity of bearing my testimony against this dangerous evil. I observed to him, that as my people were generally farmers in middling circumstances, I did not think they took a lead in fashions; if they followed them, it was at an humble distance, and rather to avoid singularity, than to encourage extravagance; that as long as people were in the habit of wearing clothes, they must have some fashion or other, and a fashion that answered the ends of dress, and exceeded not the ability of the wearer, I considered as innocent, and not deserving reproof. To this he agreed, but said, what grieved him was to see people set their hearts so much on fashions. I conceded that as modes of dress were trifles compared with our eternal concerns, to set our hearts upon them must be a great sin. But I advised him to consider, that to set our hearts against such trifles, was the same sin, as to set our hearts upon them, and as his fashion was different from those of his neighbors, just in proportion as he set his heart against theirs, he set his heart upon his own. He was therefore doubly guilty of the very sin he imputed to others.
True adornment is a meek and quiet spirit, not costly or ostentatious apparel.
A couple of very gayly dressed ladies being in company with a clergyman, on his being informed that they were professed Christians, were kindly, but very solemnly reproved by him for their extravagance in dress. He reminded them that God had commanded that women adorn themselves in modest apparel, with shame-facedness and sobriety; not with broidered hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly array, but (which becometh women professing godliness) with good works; whose adorning let it not be that outward adorning of plaiting the hair, and the wearing of gold, or of PUTTING ON OF APPAREL; but let it be the hidden man of the heart, in that which is not corruptible, even the ornament of a MEEK AND QUIET spirit, which in the sight of God is of great price. They were somewhat offended, and with the hope of quieting their consciences, went to another clergyman, and asked him, if he thought there was any harm in their wearing feathers in their hats, with artificial flowers, &c., &c. He gravely replied, "There is no harm in feathers and flowers. If you have in your hearts the ridiculous vanity to wish to be thought pretty, you may as well hang
116-148 out the SIGN, and let every one know what is the ruling passion of your heart."
Ostentation in dress above one’s station shows folly and pride, reproved by wise counsel.
Dean Swift was a regular enemy to extravagance in dress, and particularly to that destructive ostentation in the middling classes, which led them to make an appearance above their condition in life. Of his mode of reproving this folly in those persons for whom he had an esteem, the following instance has been recorded. When George Faulkner, the printer, returned from London, where he had been soliciting subscriptions for his edition of the Dean's works, he went to pay his respects to him, dressed in a laced waistcoat, a bag wig and other fopperies. Swift received him with the same ceremonies as if he had been a stranger. "And pray, sir," said he, "what are your commands with me?" "I thought it was my duty sir," replied George,
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# 117. Guilt of Darling.
True reformation focuses on Christ, not elevating the minister's status.
A country clergyman was boasting in a large company of the success he had met with in reforming his parishioners, on whom his labors, he said, had produced a wonderful change for the better. Being asked in what respect, he replied that, when he came first among them, they were a set of unmannerly clowns, who paid him no more deference than they did to one another; did not so much as pull off their hat when they spoke to him, but bawled out as roughly and familiarly as though he was their equal; whereas now they never presumed to address him but cap in hand and in a submissive voice, made him the best bow when they were at ten yards' distance, and styled him your reverence at every word. A Quaker, who had heard the whole patiently, made answer, "And so, friend, the upshot of this reformation, of which thou hast so much carnal glorying, is, that thou hast taught thy people to worship thyself."
Rich men quarrel over a farthing, exposing pride and greed despite their wealth.
Sir Harvey Elwes, the miser, notwithstanding his dislike of society, was a member of a club which occasionally met at his own village of Stoke, and to which belonged two other baronets besides himself, Sir Cordwell Firebras and Sir John Barnardiston. With these three, though all rich, the reckoning was always a subject of the minutest investigation. One day, when they were engaged in settling this difficult point, a wag, who was a member, called out to a friend that was passing, "Step up stairs and assist the poor! Here are three baronets, worth a million of money, quarreling about a farthing."
Pope Julius compared his anger over a peacock to God's anger over Adam's sin.
Pope Julius, sitting at dinner one day, and pointing to a peacock which he had not touched, "Keep," said he, "this cold peacock for me against supper, and let me sup in the garden; for I shall have guests." When supper came, the peacock was not brought to the table, on which the Pope, after his wonted manner, fell into an extreme rage. One of his cardinals, sitting by, desired him not to be so moved with a matter of such small weight. "What!" said the Pope, "if God was so angry for an apple, that he cast our first parents out of Paradise for the same, why may not I, being his Vicar, be angry for a peacock, since a peacock is a greater matter than an apple?"
Pride can lead to self-importance even in the lowest circumstances.
A petty African prince who was visited in his cell by an English traveler, folded his arms with an air of imperial consequence, as he sat upon the floor, and demanded of his guest, "What do they think of me in Europe?"
Worldly pride and power are uncertain and often lead to downfall.
Tigranes, an ancient monarch of Pontus, furnishes a striking instance of the uncertainty of worldly possessions. At the beginning of his reign his dominions were small; but he overthrew many cities of Parthia and Greece, conquered the whole of
Syria and Palestine, and gave laws to the Scenites of Arabia: he acquired an authority which was respected by all the princes of Asia, and was honored by the people almost with adoration.
His pride was inflamed and supported by the immense riches he possessed, by the excessive and continual praises of his flatterers, and by a prosperity which had never known an interruption. He knew no law but his own will, and assumed the title of king of kings! So far did he carry his pride as to be waited on by crowned heads. He never appeared in public without the attendance of four kings on foot, two on each side of his horse; these persons performed for him the meanest services, especially when he gave audience to foreign ambassadors. On such occasions they were compelled to appear in the habits and posture of slaves. Such pride is universally hateful, and is sure to be ultimately punished. Tigranes was compelled to resign his dominions to Pompey, who only restored to him a small part of his power.
Pride exaggerates small possessions, but true perspective reveals their insignificance.
One day, when Alcibiades was boasting of his wealth and the great estates he had in possession, which generally feed the pride of young people of high rank Socrates carried him to a geographical map, and asked him to find Attica. It could scarcely be perceived upon the draught; he found it, however, though with much difficulty; but upon being desired to point out his own estate there, “It is too small,” said he, “to be distinguished in so little a space.” “See, then,” replied the phi 657 losopher, "how much you are affected about an imperceptible point of land!"
Outward humility can mask inward pride and spiritual arrogance.
Thomas à Becket, who was afterwards primate of England, was a strange compound of affected humility and real pride. While he performed the lowly office of washing the feet of thirteen beggars every morning, his supercilious, obstinate, and turbulent spirit assumed a proud, overbearing, spiritual authority over his sovereign, whom he was in the habit of treating with all the insolence of a licensed censor.
Pride in human wisdom leads to folly and eventual ruin.
Simon Tournay affords a memorable and affecting proof of the truth of that scripture, "Professing themselves to be wise, they became fools." In 1201, after he had excelled all Oxford in learning, and had become so eminent at Paris as to be made chief doctor of the Sorbonne, he was so puffed up with foolish pride as to hold Aristotle superior to Moses and Christ, and yet but equal to himself. In his latter days, however, he grew such an idiot as not to know one letter in a book, or to remember one thing he had ever done.
Premature boasting leads to loss and humiliation in the end.
"Nothing," says Bishop Horne, "can be got, but much may be lost, by triumphing before a battle. When Charles V invaded France, he lost his generals and a great part of his army by famine and disease; and returned baffled and thoroughly mortified from an enterprise which he began with such confidence of its happy issue that he desired Paul Jovius, the historian, to make a large provision of paper sufficient to record the victories which he was going to acquire."
A merchant’s pride leads to ruin when he ignores danger, illustrating God’s judgment.
In the strait between Johor and Rhio, there is a small white rock, called the "White Stone," very little elevated above the water, and so exactly in the centre of the passage, that many vessels, unacquainted with it, have been wrecked upon it. A Portuguese merchant passing this strait, in a vessel of his own, richly laden with gold, and other valuable commodities, asked the pilot when this rock would be passed: but each moment appearing to him long until he was secure from the danger, he repeated his question so often, that the pilot impatiently told him the rock was passed. The merchant, transported with joy, impiously exclaimed, that "God could not now make him poor." But in a little while, the vessel struck on the White Stone, and all his wealth was inguiled in the abyss; life alone remained, to make him feel his misery and his punishment.
