The daily Alaskan., 1918-03-30
ICopyrighD THE EsB-TIDE OF LOVE.

shine of each others presence. IL IS just a heart tragedy In the life of two. 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 or the home seem gone.
 Occasional discords, misunderstand- Ings and little clouds of unhappiness may not be serious. The sun of recon ciliation may scatter them, and In the balmy atmosphere that follows they may be forgotten. But it 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; antagonlsm on the basic questions of life grows more oit- ter: grim, hopeless silence takes the place of speech, or the atmosphere be- comes vltiated by hot words of recrim- ination and contempt. There Is some times an indignant outburst of anger at white heat that is not so awful as 1t seems. It 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 matrimonial duet; 1t Is q matrimonial duel. When either husband or wife speaks words meant to sting, phrases seemingly in- noceAt to others hearing them, but which are deftly loaded to annoy or madden as they relentlessly find their WAY through the vulnerable point In the armor, it Is time for those two to declare q truce and to hold a 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 jarring discord, and the rippling laughter may strike only vibrating note of vague rebellion. This surely shows Cupid Is getting ready for a pOsunortem and q 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. It 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 dtsbelleYe in the growing SeparatiOn-not to cred it it. not to realize it, nor to accept 1t for moment as a possibility. But sometimes a word, a look, a sentence or an act makes further Selr-illusion folly, as a 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 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 vlbrated at the slightest touch and brought out in an instant a 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 ull that makes life worth living, swept away as one would watch from dis tance q boat carrying loved one swept by the rapids over an engulfing cataract. This is the time when mem ories of past joy rise like ghosts and bring only bangs of pain, when loves dead roses leave us only the thOrns.
 Love rarely dies a sudden death. It is usually ailing long time before its deceaSe. Little ills that could read fly be cured in their early stages are permitted to run into more serious con- ditions; complications set in and love, with its vitality exhausted through long suffering, finally dies. Loves neglected colds often develop into con- sumption. Prompt treatment with a little unSelfsh care, tender watChful- ness and cheerful, patient nursing may restore love to perfect health.