No man who is superior in any particular escapes envy. People think in terms of comparison. If he has a better garden, he is envied by neighbours; if he gains promotion, he is envied by workmates; if he copes with events so as to live happily, he is envied by failures. Envy is the one revenge of mediocrity.

The range of envy has been greatly extended by the instability of social status and the equalitarian doctrines of democracy. The ancient lines of separation have been erased, so that the envious man begins by asking “why should not I enjoy what others enjoy?” and goes on to demand “why should others enjoy what I have not?” instead of deriving pleasure from what he has, he is pained by what others have.

A classic example comes to us from ancient Greece. In 1932 an archaeologist unearthed tablets of 2,400 years ago voting ostracism for a man called Aristides. He was banished from Athens without fault being charged against him, but merely because people hated him for being better than themselves. The story is told that Aristides was walking towards a voting place when he was accosted by an illiterate voter who asked him to mark his tablet in favour of banishment. When Aristides asked: “what have you against Aristides? What has he done wrong?” the voter replied: Nothing, but I’m tired of hearing him called ‘the just’.”

Indeed, as the proverb says: “Wrath is cruel, and anger is outrageous, but who is able to stand before jealousy?” Probably the only way is to walk along serenely with Aristides, leaving the envious to stew in their own juice.

Gossip drives people to distraction and causes more hard feelings in a community than does any other vice. The gossipy person hits at everyone and everything that is not his taste. His own merits he believes to be great and obvious, but with regard to others he lives in a strange twilight land of half-truths and perverted truth. He misrepresents zeal as impatience and bossiness, temperance and discipline as harshness, justice as cruelty, and religious faith other than his own as superstition.

A husband and wife may start discussing their family budget, swing over to arguing about the rent a neighbour pays for his flat, and end up in a flaming row over something that is totally irrelevant.

In no other area than that of small things is it so true that we behave at times in ways too foolish for a tear and too wicked for a smile. We dispute tediously about the abstract truth of unimportant things, and we cling tightly to positions we have taken regarding trifles. The cure, of course, is to listen, think, be moderate, given the authority for our beliefs, open the door so that the person with whom we are talking may come to our side of the house, and drop the matter.

The things that we get peevish about fall into two classes: those we can do something about and those we cannot help.

Herein we might take a lesson from a swordsman: when he cannot parry a thrust he takes it on his shield. Or from the eastern philosopher who, when kicked by a mule, overlooked the insult on considering its source.

Clara Barton, founder of American Red Cross, was of that sort. When a friend reminded her of a particularly cruel thing done to her years before and asked: “Don’t you remember it?” Miss Barton replied: “NO, I distinctly remember forgetting that.”

Prejudice is made up of misunderstanding and has no trouble in causing it. Voltaire called prejudice “the reason of fools.” It is a cherished belief based on hearsay or tradition which blocks free inquiry. It is, in the words of H.L. Mencken, made up of “the idiotic certainties of ignorant men.”

Prejudice means judgement. When you encounter a person who has his mind made up before learning the facts necessary to an intelligent conclusion you have run into what has been called “the law of prior entry.”

https://warripost.com/jealousy-can-ruin-you/