THE SANCTITY OF MARRIAGE by Mrs. L. D. Avery-Stuttle

Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 30, No. 45.

THE SANCTITY OF MARRIAGE.

By Mrs. L. D. Avery-Stuttle

BY MRS. L. D. AVERY-STUTTLE.

I AM quite aware that I am touching upon a subject which, to say the least, needs to be handled with care. Married people are exceedingly sensitive sometimes,—exceedingly fearful of being blamed for something by somebody. And I guess it has always been so. Indeed, they are so fearful of it, that they sometimes lay the blame onto each other.

Away back in the Garden of Eden it began. Adam was so afraid the Lord would blame him, that, altho he loved his wife very much, he speaks words of reproach against "the woman whom Thou gavest to be with me," and accuses her to save himself. "Not very gallant in Adam," you say;—no; and the ungallant Adams are not all dead yet.

The marriage relation is the most sacred of any on earth. Without it, there would be no home, no family, no government. Then, to undermine the marriage relation, undermines the home; and upon the individual homes of the people rests the government, the safety and the prosperity of the nation.

Show me a family where the husband and wife are devoted to each other, and I will show you a happy home,—a miniature of heaven. Show me a whole nation of such families, and I will show you a nation that lives in peace with the whole world, and with whom business or friendly intercourse would be a delight. But alas and alas! where shall we find such an one?

The divorce courts were never so crowded; and the divorce lawyer who gains his living by separating those who ought to have been sure that God had joined them together, is getting rich. The good old time has gone by when it was a rank disgrace to apply for a divorce. Now, almost any plea is considered sufficient, even to simple incompatibility! Why did not the couple whose marriage bonds have become hateful and galling, discover the incompatibility before the solemn marriage vow was taken?

O, there is the trouble! Young men and young women seem determined to hide and cover up, with the pretty cloak of mannerism, every odd or disagreeable trait in their character. Instead of banishing those traits and getting the mastery over them forever, they hold on to their pet evils and carefully cover them from the eyes of friend or lover until it is too late to repent. O, why is not the season of courtship made a season of getting acquainted with one another, instead of being deceived. Why not take time before marriage to find out if the young man with whom you are to spend all your life is a Christian or a pagan? whether he treats his mother and his sisters with love and tenderness, or whether he makes himself obnoxious to his friends, and a terror to every one about him? Why not find out beforehand whether the young woman is kind-hearted, gentle, and true?

"Well," says some pessimist, "since there is such a risk in marrying, it were far better to live alone, and so save trouble."

This is the opinion of the pessimist, mind you; but, before deciding in his favor, hear what the Almighty says: "It is not good for man to be alone." "Whoso findeth a wife, findeth a good thing, and obtaineth favor of the Lord."

Well, then; let no one pretend a greater wisdom than the Almighty, who made these wonderful bodies of ours, and gave us our reasoning powers and our minds.

"I came to you for advice, Aunt Hannah;" and the fair young face, pure and sweet, and unsuspicious, was turned gravely toward the stern-faced matron.

"Robert has asked me to be his wife, and I am afraid I can not make him happy; I do not feel that I am worthy of the love of so good a man; so I have not yet given him my answer."

"The idea! you unworthy of Robert Lane? You better let well enough alone. Robert is good enough—a Christian, and all that; but he's poor as a church mouse. He can't dress you as you have been accustomed to dressing. Besides, you can't tell anything about these men; most of them are no good. You better let well enough alone."

The sensitive lips quivered at the slur on "these men!" Why, Aunt Hannah! don't you think Uncle John is a good man? You ought to love your own husband, I'm sure. I know my father and brothers are good men.

"O yes, good enough, maybe; but I've been married a great many years, and I tell you, if you want to be happy, stay as you are. If you want to be miserable all your life, why then, get married!"

Now, this little dialogue is not imaginary. We have all heard similar ones. O shame! shame! I say; And yet, these "mothers in Israel," who seem to know so much more than the Almighty, are legion.

"But would you have us hasty and careless in this matter?"—Most certainly I would not. Ah, if there were less unseemly haste in this most important and solemn matter, there would be far less repenting at leisure, and fewer broken hearts. But let none scoff at this, the most sacred of human ties. My heart aches whenever I hear it. As well might we scoff at the blessed institution of the Sabbath. Both are Eden born.

Let us allow our imagination to wander back over the long centuries. The earth is young and fair,—fresh from the hand of Him who said, as He viewed His handiwork, "Behold, it is very good!" The man stands forth in all the strength and excellence of perfect manhood. The praise of the Creator is upon his lips,—but he is alone. To be sure, there are rare animals, and beautiful birds, and lovely flowers. But in all these there is no companionship. The happiness of the man is not complete. It is like a sunset without color, a rose without perfume. His beautiful home gives him only a limited pleasure; for he must enjoy it alone,—alone must he sing the songs of praise to his God.

Not so; a strange drowsiness creeps over him. The finger of Omnipotence touches him. He opens his eyes to behold a beautiful being like to himself, whose eyes beam with intelligence and love. The Creator brings her closer to the side of the man; and we listen with wonder and delight to the first marriage ceremony. "Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife; and they shall be one flesh."

Nowadays it is different. Every day we hear this sacred relation scoffed at. Every little while some sensationalist feels called upon to write a book directing the attention of the people to the inconsistency and folly of the marital relation, and to the evils which result from it. "Confessions of a Wife" is read and commented upon most favorably by the public press. The accursed doctrine of free love—better termed "free lust"—is preached everywhere; until the sacred subject of marriage is made a jeer, a jest, and a by-word. The home is wrecked, and the very foundations of society and government are in danger.

[The next article in this series is entitled "Husbands and Wives."]