"But perhaps you say, 'What _can_ we do?' I am not speaking to those who can influence the councils of our rulers, except by prayer, and by the formation and expression of that intelligent opinion which does, in the end, make its power felt. Therefore it is beside the question to ask what they should have done, or what they should do now. We have to find out what _we_ should do, each one of _us_. "There are thousands of little children, fatherless and motherless because their fathers and mothers have gone to God, often through the gate of martyrdom. They are wandering in the streets, homeless and destitute. They die, or haply they are taken by Moslems, and taught to hate the faith their parents died for. _We can rescue these._ "There are thousands of widows, desolate in heart and home, each with her tale of anguish, longing, it may be, to lay down her weary head and join her loved ones in the grave, yet forced to struggle on for the daily bread of those still dependent on her. _We can succour these._ "There are thousands of ruined men, who have lost home, occupation, health, and whose hearts are well-nigh desperate with the things they have seen and suffered. _We can give back hope to these._ "One word more, brethren. We have spoken of the power of the name of Christ. That Name, which we teach our little ones to lisp,--that Name, which sanctifies our daily prayers,--that Name, which our beloved ones whispered to us with failing breath as their feet drew near the dark valley, that Name, which yet--oh, strange mystery!--is dearer to our hearts than even theirs--that Name was on the lips of each one of the slaughtered multitude whose blood is crying to heaven--that Name is still on the lips of the suffering remnant that are left. It is in that Name that they ask our sympathy, our help. "I have spoken of our dead, our dear dead who lie out yonder, where God's blessed sun is shining on the graves in which we laid them to their rest. We turned sadly away; we thought our hearts were breaking because we _had_ to lay them there. What of our brothers and our sisters, to whom it is joy past telling, the only joy they can look for now, to know their beloved ones are dead--and safe? In that land of sorrow they weep not for the dead, neither bemoan them; it is for the living that they weep. Nor are there graves to weep over, even if they fain would do it. The dead--and, remember, they are the Christian dead,--lie unburied in the open fields, or are heaped together in trenches which the earth can scarcely cover. "Known unto God the Father, known unto Christ the Redeemer, is each atom of this undistinguished dust. Into His keeping He has taken the dead, but to us He leaves the remnants that survive, and that it is possible still to save. Will you take them to your hearts, for His NAME'S sake?"