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PETTY JEALOUSIES IN THE HOME

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Pacific Press Publishing Company · Mountain View, California · Sep 28, 1904

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 30, No. 38.

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PETTY JEALOUSIES IN THE HOME.

By Mrs. L. D. Avery-Stuttle

BY MRS. L. D. AVERY-STUTTLE.
The first case of jealousy in the home, of which we have any account, was in the family of Adam, and led directly to murder. How it must have grieved our first parents to see this unlovely trait of character cropping out in their first-born son. Cain was jealous because the Almighty seemed partial to Abel. He did not receive the respect which in his opinion he, as the eldest, should receive. Nor could he see any justice in the Lord’s refusing to accept his offering of fruits,—so binding is sin. The Almighty attempted to reason the case with him, “If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted?” but he would not listen,—so hateful and unreasonable is jealousy. So, the more Cain thought about it, the more ill-treated he imagined himself.
O look out for the first symptom of self-pity! Self-pity and selfishness are twins, and a more ugly pair never existed.
Ever so many years ago there lived a family in which the demon Jealousy was cherished in the hearts of the children, until they also became little better than the murderer Cain. It was against their younger brother that all this hatred was cherished. One night the lad had a dream, and apparently never mistrusting, in his childish innocence, the deep hatred which his brothers felt for him, he told them what he had dreamed in a burst of childish confidence. But, instead of manifesting joy that their young brother was evidently destined by the Almighty to hold some high position of honor in life, O how hateful and angry they were!
And then, there was that little coat! how bright and pretty it was, and I dare say it was very becoming to the youngster. But whenever he appeared with it on, it was like flaunting a red flag before an angry bull!
O my young friends,—and I mean you, too, my middle-aged reader, and even you whose locks are no longer brown,—look out for the demon Jealousy, whenever you have a quiet hour for looking deep into your own hearts. Look out for the first approach of the green-eyed monster, when he undertakes to intrude his hateful presence into your home. One would think that surely old age should be exempt from such naughtiness. But no; Jealousy is no respecter of persons. I have seen one upon whose head rested the silver crown that should have been a glory, so unlovely and so morose from long acquaintance with this monster, that it was painful to spend an hour in the house.
Then, the children are by no means exempt, either:—
“I have a nice watch I would like to present to Mary,” said grandma to the mother one day.
“It is very nice, but, really, grandma, unless you have one just like it for Jane, it will make a great trouble, and Jane will never get over it,” declared the silly mother.
“Well, said the old lady, meekly, Mary is my namesake, and I always wanted to make her a nice present, because she is constantly doing things for me; and, besides, Mary is now old enough to take care of a watch, while Jane is not, and really, I can’t afford to buy two watches. I hope you will not allow jealousy to ruin Jennie’s disposition, will you?”
“Well, what can I do! I’m sure it’s natural enough for the child to feel slighted unless she is treated like her sister.”
Foolish, foolish mother!
“There is a poor family living near me, said Mrs. B., “and I would be glad to help them, if I could. But there are six children in all; and if I do not have quite enough of any one thing to go around, they wrangle so among themselves that it quite takes away all the pleasure of giving. The other day I gave Johnnie a hat; but, as I did not have six hats to go around, there was no end of trouble!”
O, I am sure if we would only stop to think what an ugly, despicable thing jealousy is, we would fight it, tooth and nail, until it was dislodged forever from our hearts, and the God of love will surely help.
You remember Haman? I suppose he was a remarkably smart man—a great diplomat. But jealousy was his ruin. There was no trouble with him when he was allowed all the honors, and the best of everything going. Zeresh, his wife, had learned to pat him on the back and call him a good fellow, instead of remonstrating with him when he laid his murderous heart bare to her. It was not enough that he enjoyed the supreme favor of the king; that the multitude arose to do him honor; that he was the first and greatest man in the kingdom, save the king; that he wore on his finger the royal ring, and on his body the kingly apparel. “Yet all this availeth me nothing,” he whines to his wife and friends at the dinner table, “so long as I see Mordecai the Jew sitting at the king’s gate.”
O, his jealousy burned like fire! but how weak and ridiculous it looks to us now, doesn’t it? Well, his mother had not brought him up right. She had permitted him to indulge in selfishness when he was a child,—if she had not, if the mother of Haman had taught him self-control instead of self-pity and self-love, he would never have met the awful fate that finally overtook him in the midst of his brilliant career.
“How do you know that? Aren’t you presuming a great deal?”
Yes, I am presuming, and I dare presume when I have the word of the Almighty to lean upon. Don’t you remember the text that says, “Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old, he will not—”
“O, there you are! harping—always harping upon our duty to the children!” Yes; because I love them. There is something about innocent childhood that wonderfully appeals to me. Mothers, do you love them? Fathers, do you love them, too? Then are you going to allow them to grow up hateful and hating one another? Shall we forget the little coat, smeared with the blood of an animal, and held tauntingly before the eyes of poor old Jacob? I can not much wonder that he cried in bitterness of soul, “All these things are against me!” What if you were to be put in his place? Well, the green-eyed monster, Jealousy, has not changed any of his characteristics, and will cause as much misery as of yore in any family in which he is cherished.
Sometimes affliction will unite a household which has been all but separated by jealousy, in the closest bonds of love. That was much the way it worked in the family of Jacob.
Then welcome, thrice welcome, affliction, I say.
The other day I was chatting with a friend of mine,—a blacksmith:—
“I am anxious to understand how you can weld two pieces of iron together,” I said.
“O, that’s easy enough; just put them into the fire and leave them there until they are pliable, and then beat them and pound them—skilfully, of course—and, presto! they are together.”
“How do you know when they have fire enough and beating enough?”
“O, I know—the smith can tell.”
Ah, that’s it. The Lord, our Creator, who made each delicate nerve of our bodies, knows just when we have had affliction enough to weld our hearts firmly together. When the sons of Jacob were in sore straits because of the famine, they were ready to repent of their cruelty, and seek forgiveness.
Sometimes it is necessary for God to bring us through the fires of affliction, to burn out the dross of self-love, that our hearts may be fit temples for His Holy Spirit, instead of low and groveling shrines of passion and hatred and jealousy.
More of Thy Spirit, Lord, More of Thy grace, More of Thy blessed Word, More of Thy shining face; Less of my own poor heart, Less of my stubborn will; Bid jealousy depart, Bless and uphold me still.