"I refrain," he continued, "from recounting horrors which would needlessly wring your hearts. I speak of death; I do not speak of torture. I tell you a little of what men, our brothers, have suffered. But oh, my brothers,--oh, my sisters, and theirs!--I have no words to tell the worse agonies of your helpless sisters. I dare not tell--I dare not even hint at the things I know--and which they have had to suffer! Only, thank God on your knees to-night that He has made you Englishwomen! "And, remember, I have told of Urfa, but Urfa is only one town of many in Armenia. Like things have been done in Sassoun, in Marash, in Diarbekir, in Melatia, in Kharpoot, in Van, in Erzeroum,--in hundreds of towns and villages with strange names we have never heard. The land, which for fertility and for beauty might be a very Garden of Eden, is fast becoming a desolate wilderness. "But, you will say, all this agony does not make martyrs. For that is needed, not suffering only, but witness-bearing. True; though in a loose, general fashion all those who lose their lives in any way on account of their religion are often called martyrs. But even the most stringent application of this name of honour must include all those who have, _voluntarily_, so laid down their lives. He who has been offered life on the condition of apostasy, and has refused it, has won his crown, and no man may take it from him. Armenians without number have stood the test, and made the grand refusal. In some places the utterance of the Moslem symbol of faith, in others the lifting up of one finger, was all that was required, yet men and women, and children even, have endured death and torture rather than say those words or make that sign. Shall I give you instances? Shall I tell you of the venerable archbishop of the ancient Armenian Church, who had first his hands, and then his arms hewn off, but no agony could separate him from his Saviour, and at last he died repeating the creed? Shall I tell you of the student of theology, who answered his tempters with a steadfast 'No, for I have come to this hour in God's will and appointment, and I will not change,' and was slowly cut in pieces? Shall I tell you of the little girl, the child of twelve, who said to the Moslem, 'I believe in Jesus Christ. He is my Saviour. I love Him. I cannot do as you wish even if you kill me'? Shall I tell you of another girl and her young brother who, when the murderers came, embraced one another, their faces radiant with joy? 'We are going to Christ!' they said. 'We shall see Him just now.' Time would fail me indeed to tell of these, and of the many like them in faith and patience. But one thing is as true of those who suffer for the Name of Christ to-day as of those who suffered for that Name in the first century, or the sixteenth, or any century between--there walks with them in the furnace One like unto the Son of God."