n getting old, does not become repulsive--like an old beau, who,
with dyed hair and moustache perfumed, thinks he can pass for a handsome
young man. In those kisses, which are no longer given on the lips, but,
with sweet reverence, are discreetly given on the hand or on the
forehead, in the effusions of an old married couple, I see the most
profound and most holy of human tenderness.

They are no more lovers, but they are friends who cannot for a single
moment forget that they were lovers, and who spend the winter of their
lives in sweet remembrance of the beautiful spring, the glorious summer,
and the restful, sober autumn they enjoyed together.

This final sublime love may be rare, but it does exist; it is the reward
of concessions made and of faults forgiven; the reward of cheerfulness,
the result of long years spent together, sharing the same joys, the same
sorrows, and the same dreams. Tactful, refined, they are at this very
moment as thoughtful as they ever were before. Each one is the first
consideration in the world to the other. The refinement of their
courtesy to each other is a constant avowal of the esteem they feel; in
their old intimacy they keep the same scruples, the same delicacy as
they did in the first days of their married life. They do not call each
other 'love,' 'darling,' not even, perhaps, by their Christian names,
but 'dear friend'--and they lay on 'dear' an emphasis that shows how
sincere the expression is.

I tell you that there is no love in which you can find as much poetry as
in the love of those dear couples who for forty or fifty years have
walked side by side loving, respecting, helping each other, dreaming,
praying, suffering together, and whose actions, words, and thoughts have
each added an item to that treasure which they can now count piece by
piece. This long community of hearts, this habit of sharing everything,
has even established between them a physical likeness which would almost
cause you to take them for brother and sister rather than for man and
wife.

And how children do love these dear old couples! how they feel attracted
toward them! There is a wonderful affinity between very old people and
very young children. Both are alike in many ways: the former have lost
their strength, the latter have not yet got theirs. The world goes in a
circle, and at the end of his career the old man meets the child. They
have sympathy for each other, they understand each other, and the pa