UC-NRLF 
 
 B M SDD MDb 
 
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 Mary J. L, McDonald 
 

 11 . -» ") -> > 1 
 
 
 (Recipe fot a 
 
 OJJntten 6g 
 
 QVlar^are^ of (Uat^atte 
 
 in f3e ^ear Stffeen Igunbteb 
 
 (^m^^t-peb Bg a C<>m^rtfaf ton from f 3e nOJorSs of 
 
 (parious nJ?rttcrB Bg 
 
 (marie DJc^i %inc^ 
 fpauP (Kfber atib Company 
 
 ghiBftsaers 
 ^an SranctBco 
 
 
 
 
Copyright, 1 9 1 1 
 
 by Paul Elder and Company 
 
 San Francisco 
 
 in^ri^ X L. |V\^ 0^«^i^^<i 
 
(Recipe for a 
 
 ^appg Bife 
 
 Margaret of Angouleme^ ^een of Navarre and chief patroness 
 of letters in the early half of the sixteenth century, was also a poet 
 and writer herself of no mean degree. A woman of broad religious 
 interests, serious and learned for her time, a time when women were 
 seldom either serious or learned, she has combined for us today, as 
 well as for her own generation, the sane ingredients for a well 
 rounded and happy life. It is a long way back to her day and in 
 many details of morals and of manners life has assumed changed 
 aspeBs, but we feel anew, when we read her words, that it is for- 
 ever unchangeable in its essentials. 
 
 Marie West King has thoughtfully seleBed passages from later 
 writers, expanding the suggestions in §lueen Margaret' s " Recipe 
 for a Happy Life,'' and opening for us ??iany pleasant by-paths 
 for their application. 
 
 "The thoughts so delightfully chosen by Miss King are culled 
 from the literature of the ages, and there are bits from younger and 
 some from much older writers than Margaret of Navarre. Many 
 are of that quality which does not die ; others are merely appealing 
 little sayings which, being colloquially stated, pass away with their 
 generation, but their essence being permanent they are co7istantly 
 being resurreBed in new form, as blossoms which bloofn and fade 
 and bloom again. 
 
 Surely, no beautiful thing can die. 
 
(Recipe for a 
 
 ^appg Bife 
 
 "I J *! (ggS 
 
 HJtiitat 6p QVlargaref of (Uat^arre in t^t 
 
 /y^^HREE ounces are necessary, first of ^''^Patience^ 
 ^/y Then, of ^^^ Repose &? Peace; of ^'""^ Conscience 
 
 A pound entire is needful; 
 Of ^"^^ Pastimes of all sorts, too, 
 
 Should be gathered as much as the hand can hold; 
 Oi^"^^ Pleasant Memory &f of Hope three good drachms 
 There must be at least. But they should moistened be 
 With a liquor made from ^^^^True Pleasures which re- 
 joice the heart. 
 Then oi^^^^ Love's Magic Drops ^ a few — 
 But use them sparingly, for they may bring a flame 
 Which naught but tears can drown. 
 Grind the whole and mix therewith o(^^^ Merriment ^ 
 
 an ounce 
 To even. Yet all this may not bring happiness 
 Except in your ^^""^ Orisons you lift your voice 
 To Him who holds the gift of health. 
 
 Note: The text following is subdivided under the heads of the "ingredients" of the Recipe, the numerals 
 z, 8, 14, io, 26, 33, 37, 44 and 50 referring to the commencing pages. 
 
patience 
 
 owEVER sore to flesh and blood, 
 I hold this thing as true; 
 The way that God selects, — appoints 
 Is ever best for you. 
 
 However sharp the flints that press 
 The tender feet, unshod ; 
 I hold the roughest path may lead 
 To closer walk with God. 
 
 — Mrs. Mary M. Gunnison. 
 
 Patience is a plant 
 That grows not in all gardens. 
 
 — Longfellow. 
 
 Come what come may. 
 Time and the hour runs through the 
 roughest day. 
 
 Patience is powerful. 
 
 — Longfellow. 
 
^ap^jg j^ife 
 
 3 
 
 ounces cire neceBsatg, fJrsf of 
 
 (patience 
 
 Patience; accomplish thy labor; accomplish thy work 
 
 of affection ! 
 Sorrow and silence are strong, and patient endurance is 
 
 godlike. 
 Therefore accomplish thy labor of love, till the heart is 
 
 made godlike. 
 
 Purified, strengthened, perfected, and rendered more 
 
 worthy of heaven. .. 
 
 -' — Longfellow. 
 
 There is a day of sunny rest 
 
 For every dark and troubled night ; 
 And grief may bide an evening guest. 
 
 But joy shall come with early light. 
 
 * 
 
 •x- 
 
 * 
 
 * 
 
 * 
 
 For God hath marked each sorrowing day 
 And numbered every secret tear. 
 
 And heaven's long age of bliss shall pay 
 For all his children suffer here. 
 
 — Bryant. 
 
 One day at a time. 
 
 Selected. 
 
ouncea arc neceaaarg, ftsi of 
 
 ^aficna" 
 
 
 
 ^oge 
 
 4 
 
 (Hecipe for a 
 
 (patience 
 
 Be still, sad heart, and cease repining ; 
 Behind the clouds is the sun still shining; 
 Thy fate is the common fate of all, 
 Into each life some rain must fall, 
 Some days must be dark and dreary. 
 
 — Longfellow. 
 
 Let nothing disturb thee. 
 
 Nothing affright thee; 
 
 All things are passing; 
 
 God never changeth; 
 
 Patient endurance 
 
 Attaineth to all things; 
 
 Who God possesseth 
 
 In nothing is wanting. 
 
 Alone God sufficeth. 
 
 — Longfellow. 
 
 Endurance is the crowning quality, 
 And patience all the passion of great hearts. 
 
 — Lowell. 
 
 Self conquest is the greatest of victories. 
 
 — Plato. 
 
^aiimu 
 
 JOGGIN* ErLONG 
 
 De da'kest hour, dey alius say. 
 
 Is des' befo' de dawn. 
 
 But it's moughty ha'd a-waitin' 
 
 Were de night goes frownin' on; 
 
 An' it's moughty ha'd a-hopin* 
 
 Wen de clouds is big an' black, 
 
 An' all de t'ings you's waited for 
 
 Has failed, er gone to wrack — 
 
 But des' keep on a-joggin' wid a little bit o' song, 
 
 De mo'n is alius brightah w'en de night's been long. 
 
 Dey's lots o' knocks you's got to tek 
 Befo* yo' journey 's done. 
 An' dey's times w'en you'll be wishin' 
 Dat de weary race was run; 
 W'en you want to give up try in* 
 And des' float erpon de wave, 
 W'en you don't feel no mo' sorrer 
 Ez yo' t'ink erbout de grave — 
 Den, des' keep on a-joggin' wid a little bit o' song, 
 De mo'n is alius brightah w'en de night's been long. 
 
 — Paul Laurence Dunbar. 
 
ounces are necefifiatg, fxBi of 
 
 (JJage 
 
 6 
 
 (patience 
 
 oft the cloud which wraps the present hour 
 Serves but to brighten all our future days. 
 
 — John Brown. 
 
 The Road 'll Turn Some Day 
 
 I know the road is rocky. 
 
 And the hills are hard to climb; 
 I know the feet get bruised and sore. 
 
 And it takes heaps o' time. 
 I know the burden 's heavy — 
 
 O, you need n't tempt to say ; 
 But just keep plodding onward — 
 
 For the road '11 turn some day ! 
 
 I know that homesick feeling, 
 
 And the ache you bear alone; 
 I know your heart is breaking. 
 
 By the bravely stifled moan. 
 I know the arm you leaned upon 
 
 Has now no power to stay ; 
 But just keep a plodding onward — 
 
 For the road '11 turn some day ! 
 
r 
 
 ounces are necesBarg, ftai of 
 ^ofience" 
 
 (patience 
 
 I know the structures you have hewn 
 
 Of youth day-dreams lie low; 
 I know you see their ruins stare 
 
 Everywhere you go. 
 I know the sunbeams round your path 
 
 Long since have ceased to play; 
 But just keep a-ploddin* onward — 
 
 For the road '11 turn some day. 
 
 — Selected. 
 
 So nigh is grandeur to our dust. 
 
 So near is God to man; 
 When duty whispers low, " Thou must ! " 
 
 The heart replies, " I can \" 
 
 — Emerson. 
 
 How smooth the sea-beach pebbles are I 
 
 But, do you know ? 
 
 The ocean worked a hundred years 
 
 To make them so ! ..^ _, „ 
 
 — Henrietta R. Illiot. 
 
 There is no crown in the world so good as patience. 
 
 — Selected. 
 
't^n, of QRc^Jose ani> ^eoce' 
 
 (Reci^^e for a 
 
 QPlepoee anb (peace 
 
 'HESE should be hours for necessities. 
 Not for delights; times to repair our nature 
 With comforting repose, and not for us 
 To waste these times. —Shakespeare. 
 
 Rest that strengthens unto virtuous deeds. 
 
 Is one with prayer. —Bayard Taylor. 
 
 There is rest for all things. On still nights 
 
 There is a folding of a million wings — 
 
 The swarming honey-bees in unknown woods. 
 
 The speckled butterflies and downy broods 
 
 In dizzy poplar heights : 
 
 Rest for innumerable nameless things. 
 
 Rest for the creatures underneath the Sea, 
 
 And in the Earth, and in the starry Air. 
 
 — T. B. Aldrich, 
 
 In peace, there 's nothing so becomes a man 
 As modest stillness and humility. 
 
 — Shakespeare. 
 
^(^ipp^ ^ife 
 
 9 
 
 '^!^n, of (gc|)O0c cinb ^eace" 
 
 (]Plepo0e anb (peace 
 
 Of all our loving Father's gifts, 
 I often wonder which is best, — 
 And cry : Dear God, the one that lifts 
 Our souls from weariness to rest. 
 The rest of Silence, — that is best. 
 
 — Mary Clemmer. 
 
 Calm and unruffled as a summer sea, 
 When not a breath of wind flies o'er its surface. 
 
 — Addison. 
 
 At peace with God and the world. 
 
 — Longfellow. 
 
 A gentleman makes no noise ; a lady is serene. 
 
 — Emerson. 
 
 Wise men read very sharply all your private 
 history in your look, and gait, and behavior. 
 
 — Emerson. 
 
10 
 
 (Jteci^^e for a 
 
 (Jlepo0e ani ^eace 
 
 Hard work is good an' wholesome, past 
 
 all doubt; 
 But 't ain't so, ef the mind gits tuckered 
 
 out. 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 To sit as idle as the grass 
 Watching the clouds make pictures in the air. 
 
 — Alice Gary. 
 
 Worry is the rust of the soul. 
 
 — Selected. 
 
 Silken rest 
 Tie all thy cares up. 
 
 — Beaumont & Fletcher. 
 
 Today let us enjoy ourselves. Sorrows, joys, 
 tears, smiles, go in and out before us. Happy the 
 man who contentedly resigns himself to his fate. 
 
 — Selected. 
 
^appj Bife 
 
 qpase 
 
 11 
 
 "^n, of QRe^JOBe anb QpMwe" 
 
 Q^epo^e anb (peace 
 
 What, what is virtue, but repose of mind, 
 A pure ethereal calm, that knows no storm ; 
 Above the reach of wild Ambition's wind. 
 Above those passions that this world deform. 
 And torture man. 
 
 — Thomson. 
 
 There was a soft and pensive grace, 
 A cast of thought upon her face. 
 That suited well the forehead high. 
 The eyelash dark, and downcast eye : 
 The mild expression spoke a mind 
 In duty firm, composed, resigned. 
 
 Scott. 
 
 Whate'er he did was done with so much ease. 
 In him alone 't was natural to please. 
 
 — Dryden. 
 
 Soft words, with nothing in them, make a song. 
 
 — Waller. 
 
12 
 
 (Recipe for a 
 
 QPlepo^e CiY{b (J)eace 
 
 Peace 
 
 With eager heart and will on fire, 
 I fought to win my great desire; 
 "Peace shall be mine,'* I said; but life 
 Grew bitter in the weary strife. 
 
 My soul was tired, and my pride 
 Was wounded deep; to Heaven I cried, 
 "God grant me peace or I must die"; 
 The dumb stars glittered no reply. 
 
 Broken at last, I bowed my head. 
 Forgetting all myself, and said, 
 "Whatever comes. His will be done"; 
 And in that moment peace was won. 
 
 — Henry Van Dyke. 
 
 Peace is the evening star of the soul, as virtue is its 
 sun; and the two are never far apart. 
 
 COLTON. 
 
13 
 
 ^3«n. of QRe^Jose cinb ^eoce" 
 
 Q^po0e anb ^eace 
 
 Have you known how to compose your manners ? 
 You have done a great deal more than he who has com- 
 posed books. Have you known how to take repose? 
 You have done more than he who has taken cities and 
 
 empires. 
 
 — Montaigne. 
 
 Peace does not dwell in outward things, but within 
 the soul; we may preserve it in the midst of the bit- 
 terest pain, if our will remain firm and submissive. 
 Peace in this life springs from acquiescence, not in an 
 exemption from suffering. 
 
 — Fenelon. 
 
 Nothing can bring you peace but yourself. Noth- 
 ing can bring you peace but the triumph of principles. 
 
 Emerson. 
 
"* * of C^onsctence 
 (J ^unb enfite is neebfuf " 
 
 14 
 
 (Recipe for a 
 
 Conscience 
 
 E THAT has light within his own clear breast, 
 
 May sit i' the centre, and enjoy bright day; 
 
 But he that hides a dark soul, and foul thoughts, 
 
 Benighted walks under the midday sun ; 
 
 Himself is his own dungeon. _ , 
 
 ° — Milton. 
 
 Man's conscience is the oracle of God. 
 
 — Byron. 
 
 He will easily be content and at peace, whose 
 
 conscience is pure. ^ v ^ 
 
 ^ — Thomas A Kempis. 
 
 Conscience is harder than our enemies, 
 Knows more, accuses with more nicety. 
 
 — George Eliot. 
 
 A quiet conscience makes one so serene. 
 
 — Byron. 
 
^appj j^ife 
 
 15 
 
 Conscience 
 
 The Bell of the Angels 
 
 There has come to my mind a legend, 
 
 A thing I had half forgot, 
 And, where I read it or dreamed it — 
 
 Ah, well ! it matters not. 
 
 It is said in Heaven, at twilight, 
 A great bell so softly swings, 
 
 And man may listen and hearken 
 To the wondrous music that rings. 
 
 If he puts from his heart's inner chamber 
 All the passion, pain and strife. 
 
 Heartache and weary longing 
 That throb in the pulses of life. 
 
 If he thrust from his soul all hatred. 
 All thoughts of wicked things. 
 
 He can hear in the holy twilight 
 How the bell of the angels ring. 
 
 And I think there lies in the legend. 
 If we open our eyes to see, 
 
'** of CottBctence 
 ^ ^unb entire is nee^f " 
 
 16 
 
 (Recipe for a 
 
 Conscience 
 
 Somewhat of an inner meaning, 
 My friend, to you and me. 
 
 Let us look in our hearts and question 
 Can purer thoughts enter in 
 
 To a soul, if it be already 
 
 The dwelling of thoughts of sin ? 
 
 So, then, let us ponder a little, 
 Let us look in our hearts and see 
 
 If the twilight bell of the angels 
 Could ring for us — you and me. 
 
 Selected. 
 
 I feel within me 
 A peace above all earthly dignities, 
 A still and quiet conscience. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 My conscience is my crown. 
 
 R. Southwell. 
 
"* * of ^^Bcience 
 (^ ^wunb entire is nee^fuf" 
 
 Conmmu 
 
 Today 
 
 So here hath been dawning another blue day; 
 Think, wilt thou let it slip useless way? 
 
 Out of eternity this new day is born ; 
 Into eternity at night will return. 
 
 Behold it aforetime no eye ever did; 
 So soon it forever from all eyes is hid. 
 
 Here hath been dawning another blue day; 
 Think, wilt thou let it slip useless away ? 
 
 — Thomas Carlyle. 
 
 Build today, then, strong and sure. 
 
 With a firm and ample base; 
 And ascending and secure 
 
 Shall tomorrow find its place. 
 
 ~ Longfellow. 
 
 Conscience is God's vicegerent on earth. 
 
 BOWEN. 
 
Conecience 
 
 By thine own soul's law learn to live, 
 And if men thwart thee take no heed, 
 
 And if men hate thee have no care ; 
 Sing thou thy song and do thy deed. 
 
 Hope thou thy hope and pray thy prayer. 
 And claim no crown they will not give. 
 
 Nor bays they grudge thee for thy hair. 
 
 Keep thou thy soul-worn steadfast oath. 
 And to thy heart be true thy heart ; 
 
 What thy soul teaches learn to know. 
 And play out thine appointed part. 
 
 And thou shalt reap as thou shalt sow. 
 Nor helped nor hindered in thy growth. 
 
 To thy full stature thou shalt grow. 
 
 Fix on the future's goal thy face. 
 And let thy feet be lured to stray 
 
 Nowhither, but be swift to run. 
 And nowhere tarry by the way. 
 
 Until at last the end is won. 
 
 And thou mayst look back from thy place. 
 
 And see thy long day's journey done. 
 
 — Beatty. 
 
^appg Sife 
 
 "* * of ^nscience 
 (^ ^unb cnfire is neebfuf " 
 
 Conscience 
 
 Labor to keep alive in your breast that little spark 
 
 of celestial fire, called Conscience. „ ,,, 
 
 — George Washington. 
 
 In the silent midnight watches. 
 
 List — thy bosom door ! 
 How it knocketh, knocketh, knocketh, 
 
 Knocketh evermore ! 
 Say not 'tis thy pulses beating; 
 
 'T is thy heart of sin : 
 
 'T is thy Saviour knocks, and crieth, 
 
 Rise and let me in ! * ^ /- 
 
 — A. C. CoxE. 
 
 Guard well thy thought; our thoughts are heard in heaven. 
 
 — Young. 
 
 Our acts our angels are, or good or ill. 
 Our fatal shadows that walk by us still. 
 
 Fletcher. 
 
 'T is the mind that makes the body rich. 
 
 — Selected. 
 
"(t>f (paBi{mtB of aff sorfB, foo, 
 ^^ufb Be gaf^eteb as muc3 «b f0e 6anb 
 
 20 
 
 (B 
 
 ^a0^ime^ 
 
 ATHER ye rosebuds while ye may. 
 Old Time is still a-flying; 
 And this same flower that smiles today, 
 Tomorrow will be dying. 
 
 — Herrick. 
 
 The mind ought sometimes to be diverted, that it 
 
 may return the better to thinking. „ 
 
 -' ° — rn^DRus. 
 
 Nothing more preserves men in their wits. 
 
 Than giving of them leave to play by fits. 
 
 In dreams to sport, and ramble with all fancies. 
 
 And waking, little less extravagances ; 
 
 The rest and recreation of tired thought. 
 
 When 'tis run down with care, and overwrought; 
 
 Of which whoever does not freely take 
 
 His constant share, is never broad awake. 
 
 — Butler. 
 
 Over the hills and far awav. 
 
 - — Gay. 
 
"€>f (paBiimts of off sorfe, foo, 
 con eofb" 
 
 (pa0iime0 
 
 O gift of God ! O perfed: day : 
 Whereon shall no man work, but play; 
 Whereon it is enough for me. 
 Not to be doing, but to be. 
 
 — Longfellow. 
 
 Time for work, — yet take 
 Much holiday for art's and friendship's sake. 
 
 — George James de Wilde. 
 
 Go forth, under the open sky, and list 
 To Nature's teachings. 
 
 — Bryant. 
 
 Nature ever yields reward 
 
 To him who seeks, and loves her best. 
 
 — Barry Cornwall, 
 
 Away ! I will not be, today, 
 
 The only slave of toil and care. 
 
 Away from desk and dust! away! 
 I '11 be as idle as the air. 
 
 — Bryant. 
 
"<t>f (paBiirma of aff Borfe, foo, 
 S^oufb Be Qat^ctcb as muc3 ob f 3e ^anb 
 can aofb" 
 
 (Reci^^e for a 
 
 (paa^imee^ 
 
 I am a great friend to public amusements, for they 
 
 keep people from vice. 
 
 ^ ^ ^ — Samuel Johnson. 
 
 Fill the bright goblet, spread the festive board. 
 Summon the gay, the noble, and the fair. 
 Let mirth and music sound the dirge of care. 
 
 — Scott. 
 
 The mind, relaxing into needful sport. 
 
 Should turn to writers of an abler sort. 
 
 Whose wit well managed, and whose classic style. 
 
 Give truth a lustre, and make wisdom smile. 
 
 COWPER. 
 
 'T is liberty alone that gives the flow'r 
 Of fleeting life its lustre and perfume. 
 And we are weeds without it. „ 
 
 CoWPER. 
 
 'Tis good to be abroad in the sun. 
 
 — Lowell. 
 
^a|)})j J^ife 
 
 ' W ^aBHtmB of aff Borfs, foo, 
 jS^oufb 6c 0of 3ctcb as muc6 aa <3« ^tib 
 can aof^" 
 
 ^ae^imee 
 
 The next method, therefore, that I would propose 
 to fill up our time should be useful and innocent diver- 
 sions. . 
 
 __^__ — Addison. 
 
 The stage might be made a perpetual source of 
 the most noble and useful entertainments were it under 
 proper regulations. 
 
 — Addison. 
 
 But the mind never unbends itself so agreeably as in 
 the conversation of a well-chosen friend. 
 
 — Addison. 
 
 Mixing together profit and delight 
 
 A man that has a taste for music, painting, or archi- 
 tecture, is like one that has another sense, when com- 
 pared with such as have no relish for those arts. 
 
 — Addison. 
 
"(bf (pasiimtB of aff eorfs, foo, 
 ^6oufb Be saf ^ereb as muc3 as f 3^ ^cmb 
 can 6ofb" 
 
 (pa^iimea 
 
 When griping griefs the heart doth wound, 
 And doleful dumps the mind oppress, 
 
 * 
 
 * 
 
 * 
 
 * 
 
 * 
 
 Then music, with her silver sound. 
 With speedy help doth lend redress. 
 
 — Shakespeare. 
 
 Dreams, books, are each a world; and books, we know. 
 Are a substantial world, both pure and good ; 
 Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood, 
 Our pastime and our happiness will grow. 
 
 — Wordsworth. 
 
 Sweet recreation barred, what doth ensue 
 But moody and dull melancholy. 
 
 — Shakespeare. 
 
 A day for toil, an hour for sport. 
 
 — Emerson. 
 
 Friends, books, a garden, and perhaps his pen. 
 
 COWPER. 
 
"Of ^Miimte of afF eotie, ioo, 
 tan ^ofb" 
 
 (pae^tmee 
 
 No entertainment is so cheap as reading, nor any 
 pleasure so lasting. ^^ _ ^^^^ j^ ^ Montague. 
 
 Reading serves for delight, for ornament, for ability. 
 
 — Bacon. 
 
 The love of reading enables a man to exchange 
 the w^earisome hours of life, v^^hich come to everyone, 
 
 for hours of delight. , , 
 
 ° — Montesquieu. 
 
 How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! 
 Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music 
 Creep in our ears : soft stillness, and the night. 
 Become the touches of sweet harmony. 
 
 — Shakespeare. 
 
 We have had pastime here, and pleasing game. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
"Of ^fcaeattf (Ulcmotg onb of %oipt 
 i^xu goob brac^ms" 
 
 ^age 
 
 26 
 
 (Recij^e for a 
 
 Memories. 
 
 FT I remember those whom I have known 
 In other days, to whom my heart was led 
 As by a magnet, and who are not dead. 
 But absent, and their memories overgrown 
 With other thoughts and troubles of my own. 
 As graves with grasses are, and at their head 
 The stone with moss and lichens so o'erspread, 
 Nothing is legible but the name alone. 
 And is it so with them? After long years. 
 Do they remember me in the same way. 
 And is the memory pleasant as to me? 
 I fear to ask; yet wherefore are my fears? 
 
 Pleasures, like flowers, may wither and decay. 
 And yet the root perennial may be. 
 
 — Longfellow. 
 
 I remember, I remember 
 
 How my childhood fleeted by, — 
 The mirth of its December, 
 
 And the warmth of its July. 
 
 — Praed. 
 
27 
 
 "Of ^fcaoanf Q|lemotg einb of ^o^^ 
 f^tee 300b btftc^ms" 
 
 Oft in the stilly night, 
 
 Ere slumber's chain has bound me. 
 Fond memory brings the light 
 Of other days around me ; 
 The smiles, the tears. 
 Of boyhood's years. 
 The words of love then spoken ; 
 The eyes that shone 
 Now dimmed and gone. 
 The cheerful hearts now broken. 
 
 — Thomas Moore. 
 
 Sweet memory, wafted by thy gentle gale, 
 Oft up the stream of Time I turn my sail, 
 To view the fairy-haunts of long-lost hours. 
 Blest with far greener shades, far lovelier flowers. 
 
 — Rogers. 
 
 I have a room whereinto no one enters 
 Save I myself alone ; 
 
 There sits a blessed memory on a throne. 
 There my life centers. 
 
 — Christina G. Rossetti. 
 
"<tH ^eaeatif (Wlemorg an'b of %o^ 
 
 They have not perished — no! 
 Kind words, remembered voices once so sweet. 
 
 Smiles, radiant long ago. 
 And features, the great soul's apparent seat. 
 
 — Bryant. 
 
 'T is but a little faded flower, 
 
 But oh, how fondly dear ! 
 'T will bring me back one golden hour, 
 
 Through many a weary year. 
 
 _____ — Ellen C. HowARTH. 
 
 Ah ! memories of sweet summer eves, 
 Of moonlit wave and willowy way. 
 
 Of stars and flowers, and dewy leaves. 
 
 And smiles and tones more deaf than they! 
 
 ____ — Whittier. 
 
 His years with others must the sweeter be 
 For those bfief days he spent in loving me. 
 
 ___ — George Eliot. 
 
 For hope shall brighten days to come. 
 
 And memory gild the past. 
 
 — Moore. 
 
29 
 
 'Of ^caaani (Jtlemorg anb of l^o^je 
 f^tee goob btac^ms" 
 
 The Hope Indomitable 
 
 King Hassan, well beloved, was wont to say. 
 
 When aught went wrong or any labor failed: 
 "Tomorrow, friends, will be another day ! " 
 
 And in that faith he slept, and so prevailed. 
 Long live this proverb ! While the world shall roll. 
 
 Tomorrows fresh shall rise from out the night 
 And new-baptize the indomitable soul 
 
 With courage for its never-ending fight. 
 No one, I say, is conquered till he yields. 
 
 And yield he need not, while, like mist from glass, 
 God wipes the stain of life's old battle-fields 
 
 From every morning that he brings to pass. 
 New day, new hope, new courage ! Let this be, 
 
 O soul, thy cheerful creed. What 's yesterday. 
 With all its shards and wrack and grief to thee ? 
 
 Forget it, then — here lies the victor's way. 
 
 _____ — Selected. 
 
 Yet where an equal poise of hope and fear 
 Does arbitrate the event, my nature is 
 That I incline to hope rather than fear. 
 
 — Milton. 
 
' W ^feasattf (Wtcmorg onb of l^ot^^ 
 i^tu 0oob brac^ms" 
 
 (Recipe for a 
 
 {pitdBCiYii QVlemorp anb l^ope 
 
 After 
 
 After the darkness, dawning, 
 
 And stir of the rested wing ; 
 Fresh fragrance from the meadow. 
 
 Fresh hope in everything. 
 
 After the winter, springtime, 
 
 And dreams, that, flower-like, throng; 
 
 After the tempest, silence; 
 After the silence, song. 
 
 After the heat of anger. 
 
 Love, that all life enwraps; 
 After the stress of battle. 
 
 The trumpet sounding " taps." 
 
 After regret and doubting, 
 
 A faith without alloy, 
 God here and over yonder, — 
 
 The end of all things — joy! 
 
 — Florence Earle Coates. 
 
 Hope springs eternal in the human breast. 
 
 — Pope. 
 
^appj Sife 
 
 31 
 
 "Of ^feaeanf (JHemotg <mb of ^o^je 
 i^vu 300b brftc^ms" 
 
 (pPeaean^ QVlemor^ artb J^opc 
 
 The Night is mother of the Day, 
 
 The Winter of the Spring, 
 And ever upon old decay 
 
 The greenest mosses cling. 
 Behind the cloud the starlight lurks. 
 
 Through showers the sunbeams fall ; 
 For God, who loveth all his works. 
 
 Has left His hope with all ! 
 
 _____ — Whittier. 
 
 Hopes, what are they? — Beads of morning 
 Strung on slender blades of grass ; 
 
 Or a spider's web adorning 
 
 In a straight and treacherous pass. 
 
 ____ — Wordsworth. 
 
 Hope, like a cordial, innocent, though strong, 
 Man's heart at once inspirits and serenes. 
 Nor makes him pay his wisdom for his joys. 
 
 — Young. 
 
 Our greatest good, and what we least can spare. 
 
 Is hope. T A 
 
 ^ — John Armstrong. 
 
'Of ^easanf QWemorg attb of ^o^Je 
 
 32 
 
 (Recipe for a 
 
 Hope, like the glimm'ring taper's light, 
 
 Adorns and cheers the way; 
 
 And still as darker grows the night. 
 
 Emits a brighter ray. ^ 
 
 ° '' — Goldsmith. 
 
 Auspicious Hope! in thy sweet garden grow 
 Wreaths for each toil, a charm for every woe. 
 
 — Campbell. 
 
 Work without hope draws ned:ar in a sieve. 
 And hope without an objed: cannot live. 
 
 — Coleridge. 
 
 Who bids me hope, and, in that charming word 
 Has peace and transport to my soul restor'd. 
 
 — Lord Lyttleton. 
 
 But hope will make thee young, for Hope and Youth 
 Are children of one mother, even Love. 
 
 — Shelley. 
 
33 
 
 "O^uf f^eg B^oufb moisfeneb 6e 
 nOJif ^ « ftquor mabe from ^rue ^feasuteB 
 <»5ica revoke f^e 3e«rf " 
 
 Cme (J)Pea0ure0 
 
 UT of the garden of playtime, out of the 
 bower of rest. 
 Fain would I follow at daytime, music that 
 
 calls to a quest. 
 Hark, how the galloping measure 
 Quickens the pulses of pleasure; 
 Gaily saluting the morn 
 With the long, clear note of the hunting-horn. 
 Echoing up from the valley, 
 Over the mountain side, — 
 Rally, you hunters, rally. 
 Rally, and ride ! 
 
 Drink of the magical potion music has mixed 
 
 with her wine. 
 Full of the madness of motion, joyful, 
 exultant, divine! 
 
 Leave all your troubles behind you. 
 Ride where they never can find you. 
 Into the gladness of morn. 
 With the long, clear note of the hunting-horn. 
 Swiftly o'er hillock and hollow. 
 
 Sweeping along with the wind, — 
 Follow, you hunters, follow. 
 Follow, and find ! 
 
" QBuf f^eg B^oufb moiBfencb fie 
 ODJif 3 ft t*M|uor mabe from '^tuc ^fwiButeB 
 t»aic3 rcioice f^ 3e«rf " 
 
 (Recipe for a 
 
 Crue (pfeaeure^ 
 
 What will you reach with your riding? What 
 
 is the charm of the chase? 
 
 Just the delight and the striding swing of the 
 
 jubilant pace. 
 
 Danger is sweet when you front her, — 
 
 In at the death, every hunter ! 
 
 Now on the breeze the mort is borne 
 
 In the long, clear note of the hunting-horn, 
 
 Winding merrily, over and over, — 
 
 Come, come, come! 
 
 Home again, Ranger ! home again, Rover ! 
 
 Turn ap;ain, home! ..^ ,^ ^ 
 
 ° — Henry Van Dyke. 
 
 Our little lives are kept in equipoisej 
 By opposite attractions and desires; 
 
 The struggle of the instind: that enjoys. 
 And the more noble instindt that aspires. 
 
 — Longfellow. 
 
 God made all pleasures innocent. 
 
 — Mrs. Norton. 
 
^ap^jj ^ife 
 
 " ^ui f^eg B^oufb motfifcneb Be 
 n09if 3 ft fiquor mabe from ^rue ^feciBureB 
 toxica rejoice f^eaeciri" 
 
 Ctrue (|)Pea0ure0 
 
 One by one ( bright gifts from Heaven ) 
 Joys are sent thee here below; 
 
 Take them readily when given. 
 Ready too, to let them go. 
 
 — Ingelow. 
 
 The streams of small pleasures fill the lake of happiness. 
 
 — Selected. 
 
 All common things, each day's events. 
 That with the hour begin and end. 
 
 Our pleasures and our discontents. 
 
 Are rounds by which we may ascend. 
 
 — Longfellow. 
 
 There are as many pleasant things. 
 
 As many pleasant tones 
 For those who dwell by cottage hearths. 
 
 As those who sit on thrones. 
 
 — Phcebe Cary. 
 
 Pleasure and ad:ion make the hours seem short. 
 
 — Shakespeare. 
 
" Ql^uf (3^8 B^oufb moiBfencb 6e 
 <Wif 3 « fiquor mabe from ^rue ^feaButee 
 t»3ic3 reioice i^ 3earf " 
 
 (Recipe for a 
 
 Ctue (J)Pea0ute0 
 
 A man should endeavour * * * to make the sphere 
 of his innocent pleasures as wide as possible, that he may- 
 retire into them with safety, and find in them such a 
 satisfad:ion as a wise man would not blush to take. 
 
 Addison. 
 
 Live while you live, the epicure would say, 
 And seize the pleasures of the present day ; 
 Live while you live, the sacred preacher cries. 
 And give to God each moment as it flies; 
 Lord, in my views let both united be; 
 I live in pleasure, when I live to thee. 
 
 — Doddridge. 
 
 Know, dear little one, that Heaven 
 
 Does no earthly thing disdain, 
 
 Man's poor joys find there an echo 
 
 Just as surely as his pain. 
 
 Proctor. 
 
'J^<^PP2 ^^f^ 
 
 37 
 
 Bot>e^0 QYla^c ®rop0 
 
 Love and Light 
 ^■^^HERE are many kinds of love, as many kinds of 
 
 (T light. 
 
 ^^^ And every kind of love makes a glory in the 
 
 night. 
 
 There is love that stirs the heart, and love that gives it 
 
 rest, 
 
 But the love that leads life upward is the noblest and 
 
 the best. ^^ .^ 
 
 — Van Dyke. 
 
 Be strong to love, O Heart! 
 
 Love knows not wrong; 
 Didst thou love — creatures even, 
 
 Life were not long; 
 Didst thou love God in heaven, 
 
 Thou wouldst be strong! 
 
 — Proctor. 
 
 Love 's a pleasure, solid, real. 
 
 Nothing fanciful, ideal, 
 
 'T is the bliss of humankind. 
 
 — Thomas Chatterton. 
 
 iKttattcnt 
 
^t>e^0 QYla^ic ©rope 
 
 The Prison and the Angel 
 
 Self is the only prison that can ever bind the soul ; 
 
 Love is the only angel who can bid the gates unroll; 
 
 And when he comes to call thee, arise and follow fast ; 
 
 His way may lie through darkness, but it leads to 
 
 light at last. 
 
 — Van Dyke. 
 
 What is love? 'Tis Nature's treasure, 
 
 'Tis the storehouse of her joys; 
 'Tis the highest heaven of pleasure, 
 
 'Tis a bliss which never cloys. 
 
 -Thomas Chatterton. 
 
 There is no service like his that serves because he loves. 
 
 — Sir Phillip Sidney. 
 
 Life is less than nothing without love. 
 
 Bailey. 
 
39 
 
 't^n of feotje'e dtlogtc ©to^jb, 
 ft few" 
 
 ^t)e^0 QYla^c ©rop^ 
 
 Talk not of wasted afFediion, affection never was wasted; 
 
 If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters, returning 
 
 Back to their springs, like the rain, shall fill them full 
 
 of refreshment ; 
 
 That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the 
 
 fountain. 
 
 — Longfellow. 
 
 O merchant at heaven's mart for heavenly ware ! 
 Love is the only coin that passes there. 
 
 — French. 
 
 Learn that to love is the one way to know. 
 
 Or God or man : it is not love received 
 
 That maketh man to know the inner life 
 
 Of them that love him ; his own love bestowed 
 
 Shall do it. _ 
 
 — Jean Ingelow. 
 
 Love is rest. 
 
 — Bayard Taylor. 
 
 tammm 
 
'^n of |^ot)e'B (JUagic 'Btopa, 
 aftt»" 
 
 (Recipe for a 
 
 ^t?e^0 QYla^c ©rop^ 
 
 One World 
 
 "The worlds in which we live are two, 
 The world *I am' and the world *I do.'" 
 The worlds in which we live at heart are one. 
 The world "I am," the fruit of "I have done"; 
 And underneath these worlds of flower and fruit. 
 The world "I love," — the only living root. 
 
 — Van Dyke. 
 
 The night has a thousand eyes. 
 
 And the day but one; 
 Yet the light of the bright world dies 
 
 With the dying sun. 
 
 The mind has a thousand eyes. 
 
 And the heart but one; 
 Yet the light of a whole life dies 
 
 When love is done. 
 
 — Francis William Bourdillon. 
 
 Love better is than Fame. 
 
 — Bayard Taylor. 
 
^<^W2 Bife 
 
 't^n of feotje's (glagtc ©ro^w, 
 afet»" 
 
 ^ot>e'0 QVlagtc ©rope^ 
 
 Abou Ben Adhem and the Angel 
 Abou Ben Adhem ( may his tribe increase ! ) 
 Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace. 
 And saw, within the moonlight of his room. 
 Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, 
 An angel writing in a book of gold — 
 Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold. 
 And to the presence in the room he said, 
 "What writest thou?" The vision raised its head. 
 And with a look made all of sweet accord, 
 Answer'd, "The names of those who love the Lord." 
 "And is mine one"? said Abou. "Nay, not so," 
 Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low. 
 But cheerily still, and said, " I pray thee, then. 
 Write me as one who loves his fellow men." 
 The angel wrote and vanish'd. The next night 
 It came again with a great wakening light. 
 And show'd the names whom love of God had bless'd. 
 And lo ! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest. 
 
 = — Leigh Hunt. 
 
 Whoever lives true life will love true love. 
 
 — Mrs, Browning. 
 
 i-kiM 
 
 mrntrnp*' 
 
'^n of ^te'fi (JXlae^ <S>topB, 
 afetw" 
 
 (Recipe for a 
 
 ^t?e^0 QYla^ic ©rope 
 
 Love, indeed, is light from heaven; 
 A spark of that immortal fire 
 With angels shared, by Allah given, 
 To lift from earth our low desire. 
 Devotion wafts the mind above. 
 But heaven itself descends in love; 
 A feeling from the Godhead caught. 
 To wean from self each sordid thought; 
 A ray of Him who form'd the whole ; 
 A glory circling round the soul ! 
 
 ____ — Byron. 
 
 Love is too precious to be named, 
 Save with a reverence deep and high. 
 
 ____ — Alice Cary. 
 
 I hold it true, whate'er befall, 
 I feel it when I sorrow most; 
 'T is better to have loved and lost. 
 Than never to have loved at all. 
 
 _^__ — Tennyson. 
 
 Love comforteth, like sunshine after rain. 
 
 — Shakespeare. 
 
^^VV2 Sife 
 
 't^n of feotye'B (magic ©rofe, 
 afet»" 
 
 ^ot)e^0 QVla^c ©rop^ 
 
 True love's the gift which God has given 
 
 To man alone beneath the heaven; 
 
 It is not fantasy's hot fire. 
 
 Whose wishes, soon as granted, fly ; 
 
 It liveth not in fierce desire. 
 
 With dead desire it doth not die; 
 
 It is the secret sympathy. 
 
 The silver link, the silken tie. 
 
 Which heart to heart, and mind to mind. 
 
 In body and in soul can bind. 
 
 — Scott. 
 
 He asked her once again, " What hearest thou ? 
 
 What means the voice of Life?" She answered, " Love! 
 
 For love is life and they who do not love 
 
 Are not alive. But every soul that loves, 
 
 Lives in the heart of God and hears Him speak." 
 
 — Van Dyke. 
 
 Love rules the court, the camp, the grove. 
 And men below, and saints above; 
 For love is heaven, and heaven is love. 
 
 — Sir Walter Scott. 
 
'<Bnnb f3c t»3ofe an'b mix f6etet»if3 
 of Q[nerrimcnf, an ouna" 
 
 44 
 
 (Recipe for a 
 
 QYlemmen^ 
 
 LITTLE of thy merriment, 
 Of thy sparkling, light content. 
 Give me, my cheerful brook, — 
 That I may still be full of glee 
 And gladsomeness, where'er I be. 
 Though fickle fate hath prisoned me 
 In some neglected nook. 
 
 — Lowell. 
 
 Cheeriness is a thing to be more profoundly grate- 
 ful for than all that genius ever inspired or talent ever 
 accomplished. Next best to natural, spontaneous cheer- 
 iness is deliberate, intended and persistent cheeriness, 
 which we can create, can cultivate, and can so foster and 
 cherish that after a few years the world will never sus- 
 
 ped: it was not a hereditary gift. 
 
 — Helen Hunt Jackson. 
 
 A laugh is worth a hundred groans in any market. 
 
 ROSSETTI. 
 
 Laugh if you are wise. 
 
 — Addison. 
 
^a^^pj &if(t 
 
 '(Brinb f^e t»6ofe cinb mtx f^eretwtf^ 
 of (Jtlerrtmenf, cm ounce" 
 
 QVlemmenf 
 
 Bear through sorrow, wrong, and ruth. 
 In thy heart the dew of youth. 
 On thy lips the smile of truth. 
 
 Oh, that dew, like balm, shall steal 
 Into wounds that cannot heal. 
 Even as sleep our eyes doth seal ; 
 
 And that smile, like sunshine, dart 
 Into many a sunless heart. 
 For a smile of God thou art. 
 
 — Longfellow. 
 
 'Tis not in title nor in rank, 
 
 'Tis not in wealth like London bank. 
 
 To make us truly blest. 
 
 If happiness have not her seat 
 
 And center in the breast. 
 
 We may be wise, or rich or great, 
 
 But never can be blest. 
 
 • — Selected. 
 
 Smiles live long after frowns have faded. 
 
 — James A. Garfield. 
 
 "■"■ I 
 
QYlemmenf 
 
 Seasons 
 
 'Tis April in November, 
 If you will make it so, 
 Or Maytime in December, 
 Despite the falling snow, 
 If only you'll remember 
 Your smiles make roses blow. 
 
 *Tis spring in autumn weather 
 
 If you will sing all day, 
 
 And smiles and songs together 
 
 Turn winter into May; 
 
 The snow will be like heather 
 
 If only you are gay. 
 
 Selected. 
 
 Joy is the mainspring in the whole 
 
 Of endless Nature's calm rotation. 
 Joy moves the dazzling wheels that roll 
 
 In the great Timepiece of Creation. 
 
 _____ — Schiller. 
 
 A good laugh is sunshine in the house. 
 
 — Thackeray, 
 
5 W2 ^^f^ 
 
 '(Bnnb i^c t»3ofe anb mix f^etetwCi^ 
 of (jnerrimenf, on ounce" 
 
 QYlemmenf 
 
 Joy and Duty 
 
 "Joy is a Duty," — so with golden lore 
 The Hebrew rabbis taught in days of yore. 
 And happy human hearts heard in their speech 
 Almost the highest wisdom man can reach. 
 
 But one bright peak still rises far above. 
 And there the Master stands, whose name is Love, 
 Saying to those whom weary tasks employ : 
 "Life is divine when Duty is a Joy." 
 
 — Van Dyke. 
 
 The merriest folks are the best, I know. 
 
 For those who are laughing and gay. 
 
 Are the ones who are willing to stop and show 
 
 Tired people an easier way. ^ . ^^ 
 
 ^ ^ •' — Card A. Dugan. 
 
 The sunshine of life is made up of very little beams, 
 
 which are bright all the time. „ 
 
 ° — Selected. 
 
"(Brtnb f^c t»6ofe atib mix f3ctet»tf3 
 of (Jtlcrrimcnf, an ounce" 
 
 QYlemmenf 
 
 Hence we may learn, 
 That though it be a grand and comely thing 
 To be unhappy, — ( and we think it is. 
 Because so many grand and clever folk 
 Have found out reasons for unhappiness ) 
 * * * yet, since we are not grand, 
 O, not at all, and as for cleverness. 
 That may or may not be, — it is well 
 For us to be as happy as we can ! 
 
 — Jean Ingelow. 
 
 The world is so full of a number of things, 
 I 'm sure we should all be as happy as kings. 
 
 — R. L. Stevenson. 
 
 All who joy w^ould win 
 Must share it, — happiness was born a twin. 
 
 — Byron. 
 
 It's gude to be merry and wise. 
 
 — Old Scotch Song. 
 
^a|?f>g j^ife 
 
 "(Brmb f3e t»3ofe anb mix f5cret»if3 
 of (jnerrimenf, an ounce" 
 
 QVlemmenf 
 
 I opened the doors of my heart. And behold, 
 There was music within and a song, 
 And echoes did feed on the sweetness, repeating it long. 
 I opened the doors of my heart. And behold, 
 There was music that played itself out in solian notes ; 
 Then was heard, as a far-away bell at long intervals tolled. 
 
 — Jean Ingelow. 
 
 What then remains, but well our power to use. 
 And keep good humor still, whate'er we lose? 
 And trust me, dear, good humor can prevail. 
 When airs, and flights, and screams, and scolding, fail. 
 
 — Pope. 
 
 It is good 
 To lengthen to the last a sunny mood. 
 
 — Lowell. 
 
 A merry heart goes all the day. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
"*Bcf off f^tB wag nof Bring ^apipimaB 
 <Sxcc:pf ttt gour ^rieotiB gou fif( gour tjotce 
 ^o itim t»^ 3ofl)B t^c sift of ^eaft^" 
 
 (Recipe for a 
 
 Faith 
 
 God, whose thunder shakes the sky. 
 Whose eye this atom globe surveys. 
 
 To thee, my only rock, I fly. 
 Thy mercy in thy justice praise. 
 
 The mystic mazes of thy will. 
 The shadows of celestial light. 
 
 Are past the power of human skill ; 
 But what the Eternal adts is right. 
 
 O, teach me in the trying hour. 
 
 When anguish swells the dewy tear, 
 
 To still my sorrows, own thy power. 
 Thy goodness love, thy justice fear. 
 
 Thomas Chatterton. 
 
 A good man's prayers 
 Will from the deepest dungeon climb Heaven's height 
 And brin? a blessinsr down. ^ „ 
 
 ° ° JOANNA BaILLIE. 
 
 Prayer is the spirit speaking truth to Truth. 
 
 — Bailey. 
 
51 
 
 ^xctipi in gour OrtBons gou f if f gour t?otce 
 to §im <»5o ^ofbe f^e gift of 3eaff 3" 
 
 For All These 
 
 I thank thee. Lord, that I am straight and strong, 
 With wit to work and hope to keep me brave; 
 
 That two-score years, unfathomed, still belong 
 To the allotted life thy bounty gave. 
 
 I thank thee that the sight of sunlit lands 
 
 And dipping hills, the breath of evening grass — 
 
 That wet, dark rocks and flowers in my hands 
 Can give me daily gladness as I pass. 
 
 I thank thee that I love the things of earth — 
 Ripe fruits and laughter lying down to sleep. 
 
 The shine of lighted towns, the graver worth 
 Of beating human hearts that laugh and weep. 
 
 I thank thee that as yet I need not know. 
 Yet need not fear, the mystery of the end ; 
 
 But more than all, and though all these should go — 
 Dear Lord, this on my knees ! — I thank thee 
 
 for my friend. ^^^ —Juliet Wilbor Tompkins. 
 
 A prayer, in its simplest definition, is merely a wish 
 
 turned Godward, 
 
 — Phillips Brooks. 
 
'^ef aff f3tB ma^ noi Bring ^apipimBB 
 ^xctpi in gout ^rieons gou fift gout tjotce 
 to ^itn t»eo 6ofbB f 6e gtft of ^eaft^" 
 
 (J)age 
 
 52 
 
 (Recipe for a 
 
 (Dn0on0 
 
 The prayer of Ajax was for light; 
 Through all that dark and desperate fight. 
 The blackness of that noonday night, 
 He asked but the return of sight, 
 To see his foeman's face. 
 
 Let our unceasing, earnest prayer 
 Be, too, for light, — for strength to bear 
 Our portion of the weight of care 
 That crushes into dumb despair 
 One-half the human race. 
 
 — Longfellow. 
 
 More things are wrought by prayer 
 Than this world dreams of. 
 
 — Tennyson. 
 
 Be not afraid to pray — to pray is right. 
 Pray, if thou canst, with hope; but ever pray. 
 Though hope be weak or sick with long delay; 
 Pray in the darkness if there be no light. 
 
 — Hartley Coleridge. 
 
Matins 
 
 Flowers, when the night is done, 
 Lift their heads to greet the sun; 
 Sweetest looks and odours raise, 
 In a silent hymn of praise. 
 
 So my heart would turn away 
 From the darkness to the day; 
 Lying open, in God's sight. 
 
 As a flower in the light. 
 
 — Van Dyke. 
 
 Not what we wish, but what we want. 
 
 Oh! let thy grace supply. 
 The good unask'd, in mercy grant; 
 
 The ill, though ask'd, deny. 
 
 — Merrick. 
 
 * * * O Lord, to me impart 
 An innocent and grateful heart. 
 That after my last sleep I may 
 Awake to thy eternal day! Amen. 
 
 — S. T. Coleridge. 
 
HERE ENDS THE "RECIPE FOR A HAPPY LIFE" 
 BY THAT WISE QUEEN, MARGARET OF NAVARRE 
 WITH ADDITIONS FLAVORED FOR THE MODERN 
 PALATE. COMPILED FROM THE WRITINGS OF 
 DIVERS AUTHORS BY MARIE WEST KING, PUB- 
 LISHED BY PAUL ELDER AND COMPANY, WHO 
 VOUCH IT TO BE WHOLESOME AND PRACTICAL 
 AND PRINTED FOR THEM BY THEIR TOMOYE 
 PRESS UNDER THE CAREFUL DIRECTION OF 
 TOHN HENRY NASH AT THEIR SHOP IN THE 
 PLEASANT CITY OF SAN FRANCISCO IN THE YEAR 
 OF OUR LORD NINETEEN HUNDRED ^ ELEVEN 
 
f 
 
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; tHi V, )> *j 
 
 I III HNIVIMSIiy or < AlirOMNIA IIUKAKY 
 
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