Submission is the only way of reasoning between a creature and its Maker; and contentment in His will is the greatest duty we can pretend to, and the best remedy we can apply to all our misfortunes." 799 GOD'S SURE HELP IN SORROW. Leave all to God, Forsaken one, and stay thy tears; For the Highest knows thy pain, Sees thy sufferings and thy fears; Thou shalt not wait His help in vain; Leave all to God! Be still and trust! For His strokes are strokes of love, Thou must for thy profit bear; He thy filial fear would move, Trust thy Father's loving care, Be still and trust! Know God is near! Though thou think Him far away, Though His mercy long have slept, He will come and not delay, When His child enough hath wept, For God is near! Oh, teach Him not When and how to hear thy prayers; Never doth our God forget; He the cross who longest bears Finds his sorrows' bounds are set; Then teach Him not! If thou love Him, Walking truly in His ways, Then no trouble, cross or death E'er shall silence faith and praise; All things serve thee here beneath, If thou love God. _From the German of Anton Ulrich, Duke of Brunswick, 1667. Translation of Catherine Winkworth, 1855._ 800 He grieves more than is necessary who grieves before it is necessary. --_Seneca._ 801 "A great Latin poet said nearly two thousand years ago: 'If you would draw tears from the eyes of others, Yourself the sign of grief must show.'" --_From W. J. Bryan's speech in Japan._ 802 They truly mourn that mourn without a witness. --_R. Baron._ 803 There is no grief that time will not soften. --_Cicero._ 804 He mourns indeed who mourns when he's alone. 805 "Maybe the remark of a child I once overheard helped me to learn to complain and grumble as little as possible," said Dr. Burt. "While I was studying at Wilbraham Academy I spent a few days with this child's father, a good man but a chronic growler. We were all sitting in the parlor one night, when the question of food arose. The child, a little girl, told cleverly what each member of the household liked best. Finally it came to the father's turn to be described as to his favorite dish. 'And what do I like, Lucy, my pet?' he said, laughingly. 'You,' said the little girl, slowly--'well, papa, dear, you like most anything we haven't got.'" 806 Guilt is always cowardly. --_From the Latin._ 807