Address to the Young
467
what experimental religion is. They serve themselves and yet profess
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to be servants of Christ; but unless the spell which is upon them be
broken, they will soon realize that the portion of the transgressor is
theirs. As for self-denial or sacrifice for the truth’s sake, they have
found an easier way above it all. As for the earnest pleading with tears
and strong cries to God for His pardoning grace and for strength from
Him to resist the temptations of Satan, they have found it unnecessary
to be so earnest and zealous; they can get along well without it. Christ,
the King of glory, went often alone to the mountains and desert places
to pour out His soul’s request to His Father; but sinful man, in whom
is no strength, thinks he can live without so much prayer.
Christ is our pattern; His life was an example of good works.
He was a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. He wept over
Jerusalem because they would not be saved by accepting the redemp-
tion which He offered them. They would not come to Him that they
might have life. Compare your course of life with that of your Master,
who made so great a sacrifice that you might be saved. He frequently
spent the entire night upon the damp ground in agonizing prayer. You
are seeking your own pleasure. Listen to the vain, frivolous conver-
sation; hear the laugh, the jesting, the joking. Is this imitating the
pattern? Still listen—is Jesus mentioned? Is the truth the theme of
conversation? Are the speakers glorying in the cross of Christ? It is
this fashion, that bonnet, that dress, what that young man said, or that
young lady said, or the amusements they are planning. What glee!
Are angels attracted and pressing close around them to ward off the
darkness which Satan is pressing upon and around them? Oh, no. See,
they turn away in sorrow. I see tears upon the faces of these angels.
Can it be that angels of God are made to weep? It is even so.
Eternal things have little weight with the youth. Angels of God
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are in tears as they write in the roll the words and acts of professed
Christians. Angels are hovering around yonder dwelling. The young
are there assembled; there is the sound of vocal and instrumental
music. Christians are gathered there, but what is that you hear? It
is a song, a frivolous ditty, fit for the dance hall. Behold the pure
angels gather their light closer around them, and darkness envelops
those in that dwelling. The angels are moving from the scene. Sadness
is upon their countenances. Behold, they are weeping. This I saw
repeated a number of times all through the ranks of Sabbathkeepers,