“Pride,” observed the Countess, “has been termed the weakness of noble natures.”
“Pride,—what is it,” exclaimed Ida, “as mirrored in the word of God? Is it not of _the world_,—that world that _passeth away_; doth not the Lord resist _the proud_, while giving _grace unto the humble_? Doth not inspired truth declare that _before destruction the heart of man is haughty, and before honour is humility_? Is not the Saviour’s blessing on _the meek_, and on such as are _poor in spirit_? Why should I multiply quotations? Your own heart must tell you, dear Anna, that if one thing more than another stands between man and his Maker, and darkens the light of Heaven, it is the baneful spirit of pride!”
“It is interwoven with my nature,” said the countess.
“The life-long battle of the Christian is with his fallen nature, but it is a struggle in which he is not left alone. Nay, _a new heart_, a new nature is given to those who seek it in earnest prayer; a new heart filled with the Spirit of God, a new nature conformed to the likeness of Him who was _meek and lowly_ in spirit. What are the Bible emblems of those who are the soldiers and saints of the Lord? The lamb, the dove, the little child! Can such be fit types of one who struggles against lawful authority, and recoils from the duty of submission?”
Annabella was a little nettled. “I think,” she observed, with some sarcasm in her tone, “that my saintly cousin is not yet herself so perfect in this virtue of submission, as to entitle her so eloquently to enforce it on another.”
Ida glanced up in surprise. She had not been aware that the quick observation of her cousin had detected in her the lurking enemy of whose presence she herself was scarcely aware, and against whom she was hardly on her guard. But she could not deny the truth of the accusation so suddenly brought against her, and was too earnest in the cause which she was advocating to be silenced by a personal remark.
“Oh! my dear cousin!” she replied, her soft, dark eyes filling with tears, “let not my errors be a stumbling-block in the way of those whom I love. Look not at the miserable transcript, all stained and blotted with human infirmity, but turn your eyes to the blessed Original which is set before us, that we may copy its sacred features into our hearts and our lives! What was the spirit of Christ? and hath not Truth declared that _if any man hath not the Spirit of Christ he is none of His_? Was it not a spirit patient under suffering, meek under insult, a spirit ever ready to forgive? Did He not love his enemies, bless them that cursed Him, and do good to them that persecuted Him? Look on Him, dearest, look on Him, till in the brightness of His glory sin appear all the darker and more hateful! There is no pride in heaven, Annabella; we must throw away the chain ere we reach that bright place, or we never can enter therein! It is pride that is now shutting you out of your earthly home, barring against you a husband’s heart, changing domestic peace to misery. Oh, how terrible the thought that pride has shut out multitudes from an eternal home, made them aliens from a heavenly Father, rendered them sharers in the fate of that terrible being, who lost a seraph’s crown through his pride! God grant,—God grant that neither you nor I may ever be reckoned amongst them!”