The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1917-11-16
THE EBB-TIDE OF LOVE.

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The greatest trials of life are not those
which come to us from the world out
side the home, but those from the
world within. With the inspiring pres
sure of the hand we love held tight
in our own, the battle of life can be
borne bravely, but when the refuge
of love and mutual respect and esteem
is swept away, the very bulwarks OF
the home seem gone.
Occasional diScOrdS, miSunderStand-
ings and little clouds of unhappiness
may not be serious. The sun of recon
Citation may scatter them, and In the
balmy atmosphere that follows they
may be forgotten. But 1t is different
when love itself grows cold and re-
spect for each other, which is so able
an understudy to love, goes on long
vacation. Then inharmonies intensity
as the days go by; antagonism on the
basic questions of life grows more bit
ter; grim, hopeless silence takes the
place of speech, or the atmosphere be-
comes Initiated by hot words of recrim-
inatiOn and contempt. There is some
lilIlCo dllg outDulot Va NliSSA
at white heat that is not so awful as
it seems. 1t may be the fierce flame
of protest from the heart that shows
the fire of love is still burning; but
constant, cold dead sarcasm and bit
terness speak only of emberS.
This condition is not a matrimonial
duet; it is matrimonial duel. When
either husband or wife speaks words
meant to sting, phrases seemingly in
nocent to others hearing them, but
which are deity loaded to annoy or
madden as they relentlessly find their
way through the vulnerable point in
the armor, 1t is time for those two
to declare a truce and to hold speedy
peace conference or there will not be
enough love left to hold an inquest
over. They may even grow to hate
each others ways, moods, acts, and
turns of speech. The voice once loved
may now sound shrill and hard; the
step on the stair which was sweet mu-
sic may seem a Earring discord, and
the ripping laughter may strike only
a vibrating note Of vague rebellion.
This surely shows Cupid is getting
ready for postmortem and a dead
happiness will soon be buried.
Sometimes the growing separation
is on one side only, and one still loves
with the old intensity and the old
heart hunger. AS absence is always
harder for the one left behind, so this
twilight of love is most painful to the
one whose love is still constant. 1t is
the dead nerve that carries no pain.
The finer nature suffers most in life,
as variations in temperature that may
disturb the sensitive soul of violin
are powerless to affect brass cymbals.
There may be conscious effort on the
part of the one who loves to diSbelieve
in the growing superintendent to cred
it 1t, not to realize it, nor to accept it
for a moment as a possibility. But
sometimes word, look, sentence
or an act makes further self-illusion
folly, as lightning flash may reveal
to a traveller an abyss at his feet.
The smile that was the light Of our
life no longer cheers us; the caresses
that told of love unstinted are with
held; the tenderness that seemed as
sure as sunrise or sunset has turned
to doubt, and the one who still loves
may battle hopelessly when all life
around him seems to move in a fog.
At such times despite every wisdom
of heart and mind, one can never say
the right word or do the right thing.
Heart strings of sentiment, that once
vibrated at the slightest touch and
brought out in an instant flood Of
music from the finest memories of the
soul, are now mute. No explanations,
no pleas, no barring of ones very heart,
no illumination of the subtlest wind.
ings Of thought and emotion can van
quish that vague something that sep
arates.
We may stand broken hearted by a
wall Of separation made up of gossip,
fear, doubt, suspicion, injustice, and
misunderstanding, with that most help
less of all despairs when we see love
that was our whole life, and still Is
all that makes life worth living, swept
away as one would watch from a dis
lance a boat carrying a loved one
swept by the rapids over an engulfng
cataract. This is the time when men,
cries of past joy rise like ghosts and
bring only pangs of pain, when loves
dead roses leave us only the thorns.
Love rarely dies a sudden death.
1t is usually ailing long time before
It's decease. Little Ills that could read
lily be cured in their early stages are
permitted to run into more serious con.
ditions; complications set in and love,
with it's vitality exhausted through
long suffering, finally dies. Loves
neglected colds often develop into con-
sumption. Prompt treatment with a
little unselfish care; tender watchful-
ness and cheerful, patient nursing may
restore love to perfect health.
The great things that separate two
who have loved are usually only trifies
grown big and tyrannous through be-
ing ignored, basic evils in the charac-
ter, temperament or disposition of eli.
Their that should be silenced and con-
quered in the best interests Of both.
Even disloyalty may be only the eli.
max-form that heart hunger, neglect,
loneliness, jealousy, vanity gone to
seed, revolt from an atmosphere of
nagging, monotony, unsatisfied longing
for sympathy, injustice, idleness, long
suffering or a dozen other phases may
finally assume. Any of these may fur.
nish the soil in which it finds root and
sustenance. Sometimes it is the fault
of one; sometimes husband and wife
both are to blame. The innocent" one