Spiritual pride in its own nature is so secret, that it is not so well discerned by immediate intuition on the thing itself, as by the effects and fruits of it; some of which I would mention, together with the contrary fruits of pure Christian humility.

Spiritual pride disposes to speak of other persons’ sins, their enmity against God and his people, the miserable delusion of hypocrites, and their enmity against vital piety, and the deadness of some saints, with bitterness, or with laughter and levity, and an air of contempt; whereas pure Christian humility rather disposes, either to be silent about them, or to speak of them with grief and pity.

Spiritual pride is very apt to suspect others; whereas an humble saint is most jealous of himself; he is so suspicious of nothing in the world as he is of his own heart.

The spiritually proud person is apt to find fault with other saints, that they are low in grace; and to be much in observing how cold and dead they are; and being quick to discern and take notice of their deficiencies.

But the eminently humble Christian has so much to do at home, and sees so much evil in his own heart, and is so concerned about it, that he is not apt to be very busy with other hearts; he complains most of himself, and complains of his own coldness and lowness in grace.

He is apt to esteem others better than himself, and is ready to hope that there is nobody but what has more love and thankfulness to God than he, and cannot bear to think that others should bring forth no more fruit to God’s honour than he.

Some who have spiritual pride mixed with high discoveries and great transports of joy, disposing them in an earnest manner to talk to others, are apt, in such frames, to be calling upon other Christians about them, and sharply reproving them for their being so cold and lifeless.

There are others, who in their raptures are overwhelmed with a sense of their own vileness; and, when they have extraordinary discoveries of God’s glory, are all taken up about their own sinfulness; and though they also are disposed to speak much and very earnestly, yet it is very much in blaming themselves, and exhorting fellow-Christians, but in a charitable and humble manner.

Pure Christian humility disposes a person to take notice of every thing that is good in others, and to make the best of it, and to diminish their failings; but to gave his eye chiefly on those things that are bad in himself, and to take much notice of every thing that aggravates them.

Jonathan Edwards on SPIRITUAL PRIDE

I am standing in the wings of a theatre waiting for my cue to go on stage. As I stand there I can hear the play proceeding, and suddenly it dawns on me that the lines I have learned are not in this play at all, but belong to quite a different one.

Panic seizes me; I wonder frenziedly what I should do. Then I get my cue. Stumbling, falling over the unfamiliar scenery, I make my way on to the stage, and there look for guidance to the prompter, whose head I can just see rising out of the floor-boards.

Alas, he only signals helplessly to me, and I realize that of course his script is different from mine. I begin to speak my lines, but they are incomprehensible to the other actors and abhorrent to the audience, who begin to hiss and shout: "Get off the stage!" "Let the play go on!" You're interrupting!"

I am paralyzed and can think of nothing to do but to go on standing there and speaking my lines that don't fit. The only lines I know.

Now that you have a taste of his writing from volume one of his two volume set titled CHRONICLES OF WASTED TIME, you can get your  fill by searching used books online for anything the man wrote. Trust me, it will not be a waste of time!

Perhaps Muggeridge's way with words is most masterfully seen in his descriptions of the people he encounted. Take G. K. Chesterton of ORTHODOXY fame:

As a schoolboy my father took me to a dinner at a Soho restaurant at which G. K. Chesterton was being entertained.....as far as I was concerned, it was an occasion of inconceivable glory.

I observed with fascination the enormous bulk of the guest of honor...

One blogger lists Chesterton at 6’4" and weighing "about 300 pounds, usually with a cigar in his mouth, walking around wearing a cape and a crumpled hat, tiny glasses pinched to the end of his nose, swordstick in hand, laughter blowing through his moustache." You get the idea. Muggeridge continues....

...his great stomach and plump hands; how his pince-nez on a black ribbon were almost lost in the vast expanse of his face, and how when he delivered himself of what he considered to be a good remark he had a way of blowing into his moustache with a sound like and expiring balloon.

His speech, if he made one, was lost on me, but I vividly recall how I persuaded my father to wait outside the restaurant while we watched the great man make his way down in the street in a billowing black cloak and old-style bohemian hat with a large brim.

I only saw him once again. That was years later, shortly before he died, when on a windy afternoon he was sitting outside the Ship Hotel at Brighton, and clutching to himself a thriller in a yellow jacket. It, too, like the pince-nez, seemed minute by comparison with his immensity. By that time, the glory of the earlier occasion had departed.

Hilarious and "ouch" at the same time. Regardless of Muggeridge's seeming dismissal of the man, one can hardly deny the skill and deft of language with which Chesterton is dispatched.