PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY TO A PERSONAL GOD.
[Elsie, in New Zealand Joyful News.] DANIEL WEBSTER, the great orator and statesman, was once sitting along with others at a crowded dinner-table. In the course of conversation the subject was raised, "What is my greatest thought?" And each of the guests was asked to supply a personal answer. When it came to Webster's turn he looked around upon the company and asked, "Who are here?" And the reply was made, "Only your friends." "Then," said Webster, "the greatest thought that ever entered my mind was that of my personal responsibility to a personal God." He dwelt upon the idea in conversation for ten minutes, and then quietly rose and left the table. Men stood or sat in the hushed room, saying to each other, "Did you ever hear anything like that?" His greatest thought was that of personal responsibility to a personal God. Surely all the emphasis in the phrase would be placed upon the word "personal." It is the men who conceive of God as a personal Presence—almighty, awful, and yet intimate—who are filled with unspeakable boldness and power. The man who does everything as in the companionship of the personal God will fear nothing except disloyalty and imperfect devotion. What tremendous power there is in any statesman who acknowledges responsibility only to a personal God! It was in moments when John Bright gave utterance to his august relationship that great audiences used to be subdued into reverent and most fruitful silence. The mentioning of the name of God by John Bright in the Birmingham Town Hall used to bring round about that secular meeting-house the atmosphere of the sanctuary. What it was in the great statesman it is also in common life. The man who lives and moves and has his being in the fellowship of a personal God is characterized by a force and directness which command the respect of all his fellows. I would commend to my readers the wise exercise of cultivating this sense of the personal presence. If our God be only an abstraction, our loyalty will be apt to become very thin. It is the man who feels that the personal God is near who is ready for any duty. His loins are girt, the sandals are upon his feet, the staff is in his hand, and when God says "Go!" without a halting moment he obeys. It was said of Dante as he passed along the street, "There goes the man who has looked into hell." There is something far more controlling and moulding than this. Let it be said of every one of my readers, "There goes a man," or, "There goes a woman, who looks every moment into the face of Christ."