Key—Wrong.
Passing along to business the other morning, I came upon a Christian neighbor trying hard to open his shop door, an effort which seemed to beat him. I offered to assist him, and on inserting the key he was using, I soon found that it did not suit the lock.
“Are you sure that this is the right key?” I asked, upon which he put his hand into his pocket and drew forth several keys, one of which he picked out, and holding it up, said: “What a foolish thing, to be trying to open the door with the wrong key?”
Putting the right key into the lock and giving it a gentle turn, the door opened at once and he stepped inside, remarking with a laugh: “It’s an old habit of mine to work with wrong keys; I did it when I was seeking salvation by works and prayers and religion for many a day, but when I applied the key of FAITH the door was opened and I walked in to enter on a joyful possession of God’s salvation.”
Kindness—Warmth of.
A gentleman, leaving a railway station, saw a little fellow selling newspapers. “How many have you left?” “Four, sir.” “I’ll take them all.” He paid for them, and as he was putting them in his pocket, he remarked: “It’s a cold night, sonny.” “Yes,” said the boy, “but it’s much warmer since you came, sir!”
King—Born to be.
After the murder of Louis XVI and his queen, the mob rushed back to the palace and seized the little prince, to drag him to the guillotine. But one said: “No; turn him over to old Mag,” a vile woman who would train him in all that was devilish. She tried to make him do vile things, but he clenched his little fist and said: “I will not do it; I was born to be a king; I will not defile myself.”
King—Having Features of the.
After the death of Gustavus Adolphus, the Swedish representatives met to consider the situation. Some wanted a republic. Oxenstiern, the Chancellor, said: “Let there be no talk of that; we have the heir of Gustavus with us, a girl of six.” Larsen, a peasant representative, said: “We have never seen her. We do not know that the king has left an heir. How do we know that you are not tricking us?” The Chancellor went out and returned with the child, Christina. They pressed near to gaze, and Larsen turned and said: “I see in this child the features of the king. Look at her eyes, her nose, her chin. She is indeed the child of our king.” The world presses up to us, and if they do not discern in us the lineaments of Christ, they will pronounce us pretenders.
Knowing Him.
John Bunyan had a blind daughter, who was his constant companion, and of whom he was very fond. She never saw his face; she was incapable of reading his pages, and she could only dimly recognize his genius; she did not know him visibly, intellectually, technically, logically, or critically, but if anyone in the world knew John Bunyan it was his little blind daughter. She knew him deeply and truly, as no biographer, historian or critic knew him.