The French "Soul" Kiss
 

But don't stop at this.

Learn from the French.

Learn also from the Old Romans , especially Catullus, whose love poems to Lesbia have lived through the ages because of the sincerity of his passion and the genius of his ability to express his emotions in the form of beautiful poetry. For it was Catullus who wrote:

    "Then to those kisses add a hundred more,
    A thousand to that hundred so, kiss on!
    To make that thousand up to a million;
    Treble this million, and when that is done,
    Let's kiss afresh, as when we first begun."
    

Kisses cost nothing. So kiss on. There is one thing that you cannot take away from people and that is the ability to make love to each other. Despite the fact that the world suffered from a long depression, people continued to get married and they continued to have children. In fact, according to recently released figures, there were, more children born during the depression than there had been in good times. This means that, although married people did not have money, they still had themselves. They still had love. They still had the ability to kiss as they pleased and when they pleased and as often as they pleased.

Another poet asks:

    What is a kiss? alack, at worst,
    A single drop to quench a thirst,
    Tho oft it proves in happier hour,
    The first sweet drop of one long shower.
    

Because kisses cost nothing.

So kiss on. Keep on kissing. Rare old Ben Jonson realized this when he wrote that, if he had one wish, it would be that he could die kissing. But it is not only the robust and lusty poets, like Ben Johnson, who are gluttons for kisses. There has been attributed to John Ruskin, an old fogy of a philosopher if ever there was one, a request from him to a young lady friend of his that she "kiss him not sometimes but continually." Still another poet wrote:

    Kisses told by hundreds o'er;
    Thousands told by thousands more.
    Millions, countless millions then
    Told by millions o'er again;
    Countless as the drops that glide
    In the ocean's billowy tide,
    Countless as yon orbs of light
    Spangled o'er the vault of night
    I'll with ceaseless love bestow
    On those cheeks of crimson glow,
    On those lips so gently swelling,
    On those eyes such fond tales telling.