Kulp George Nuggets of Gold is a 15 chapter work with various quotes, sayings, and anecdotes about religious topics and illustrations.
Contents of Kulp George Nuggets of Gold
Chapter 1. God’s Care. THE FATHER’S HOUSEKEEPER
Chapter 2. Prayer
Chapter 3. Witnesses for God. BEING TRUE TO GOD WON.
Chapter 4. Victory. THE SECRET OF SUCCESS.
Chapter 5. Consecration.
Chapter 6. Salvation. IS GOD HERE?
Chapter 7. Missions
Chapter 8. Jesus
Chapter 9. Promises of God. THE CLASS-LEADER’S METHOD
Chapter 10. The Gospel. DON’T BE A DUCK
Chapter 11. Church Amusements
Chapter 12. Folly of Infidelity. HE PROVED IT.
Chapter 13. Sou Saving
Chapter 14. Experience. TO SAVE HIS MOTHER.
Chapter 15. Conscience
Excerpt from chapter 15
“Good-bye,” I said to Conscience,
‘Good-bye, for aye and aye;”
And I put her hands off harshly
And turned my face away;
And Conscience, smitten sorely,
Returned not from that day.
But a time came when my spirit
Grew weary of its pace,
And I cried, “Come back, my Conscience,
For I long to see thy face;”
But Conscience cried, “I cannot,
Remorse sits in my place”
— Paul Lawrence Dunbar
INFIDELITY NOT FOR STORMS
That famous son of thunder, Benjamin Abbott, tells of a young man on one of his circuits who, while wasting his health and substance in riotous living, boldly avowed his disbelief in future punishment. Going to sea in a vessel commanded by a pious captain, he found himself one day in imminent danger of sinking with the sloop in a fearful gale. Then he was greatly terrified; and when the captain asked him what he feared, since he did not believe in Hell, he replied, weeping, and wringing his hands, “Oh! that will do well enough to talk about on land, but it will not do for a storm at sea.” This was the confession of an awakened conscience. A sleeping conscience can make light of the doctrine of retribution; but when God quickens it into life, it bears unmistakable testimony by its terrors to the truth of the doctrine.
JESUS CAN SAVE TO THE UTTERMOST
The story of the conversion of Valentine Burke, the burglar, is one of the most remarkable instances of God’s power to save to the uttermost. Twenty-five years ago Mr. Moody was preaching a series of evangelistic sermons in St. Louis and The Globe-Democrat was reporting every word he said. Burke had served twenty or more years in prison. He was a daring, profane and ugly man to deal with. Prof. H. M. Hamill, D. D., in The Epworth Herald repeats the story Mr. Moody told him, in these words:
One day somebody threw a Globe-Democrat into his cell, and the first thing that caught his eye was a big headline like this: “How the jailer at Philippi got caught.” It was just what Burke wanted, and he sat down with a chuckle to read the story of the jailer’s discomfiture.
“Philippi!” he said, “that’s up in Illinois. I’ve been in that town.”
Somehow the reading had a strange look out of the usual newspaper way. It was Moody’s sermon of the night before.
“What rot is this?” asked Burke. “Paul and Silas — a great earthquake — what must I do to be saved? Has The Globe-Democrat got to printing such stuff?” He looked at the date. Yes, it was Friday morning’s paper, fresh from the press. Burke threw it down with an oath, and walked about his cell like a caged lion. By and by he took up the paper, and read the sermon through. The restless fit grew on him. Again and again he picked up the paper and read its strange story. It was then that a something, from whence he did not know, came into the burglar’s heart, and cut its way to the quick. “What does it mean?” he began asking. “Twenty years and more I’ve been burglar and jail-bird, but I never felt like this. What is it to be saved, anyhow? I’ve lived a dog’s life, and I’m getting tired of it. If there is such a God as that preacher is telling about, I believe I’ll find it out if it kills me to do it.” He found it out. Away toward midnight, after hours of bitter remorse over his wasted life, and lonely and broken prayers, the first time since he was a child at his mother’s knee, Burke learned that there is a God who is able and willing to blot out the darkest and bloodiest record at a single stroke. Then he waited for day, a new creature, crying and laughing by turns. Next morning when the guard came around Burke had a pleasant word for him, and the guard eyed him in wonder. When the sheriff came, Burke greeted him as a friend, and told him how he had found God after reading Moody’s sermon.
“Jim,” said the sheriff to the guard, “you better keep an eye on Burke. He’s playing the pious dodge, and first chance he gets he will be out of here.” In a few weeks Burke came to trial; but the case, through some legal entanglement, failed, and he was released. Friendless, an ex-burglar in a big city, known only as a daring criminal, he had a hard time for months of shame and sorrow. Men looked at his face when he asked for work, and upon its evidence turned him away.
But poor Burke was as brave as a Christian as he had been as a burglar, and struggled on. Moody told how the poor fellow, seeing that his sin-blurred features were making against him, asked the Lord in prayer; “if He wouldn’t make him a better looking man, so that he could get an honest job.” You will smile at this, I know, But something or somebody really answered that prayer, for Moody said a year from that time when he met Burke in Chicago he was as fine a looking man as he knew. The St. Louis sheriff made him his deputy, and several years afterward when Moody was passing through the city, he stopped off an hour to meet Burke, who loved nobody as he did the man who had converted him. Moody told how he found him in a close room upstairs in the court-house serving as trusted guard over a bag of diamonds. Burke sat with a pack of the gems in his lap and a gun on the table. There were $60,000 worth of diamonds in the sack.
“Moody,” he cried, “see what the grace of God can do for a burglar. Look at this! The sheriff picked me out of his force to guard it.”
Then he cried like a child as he held up the glittering stones for Moody to see.
Many were converted through him, and when he died, the rich and poor, the saints and the sinners, attended his funeral in great numbers. The big men of the city could not say enough over the coffin of Valentine Burke. And to this day there are not a few in that city whose hearts soften with a strange tenderness when the name of the burglar is recalled.
THE GREAT PRAYER-MEETING
During a series of gracious revival meetings I was assisted by a lay brother whose great gifts were prayer and house-to-house visitation. One day he visited a home where all were busy as bees. They were too much engaged with the things of the world to allow him even a few minutes for prayer with them. Leaving the home with a sad and heavy heart, he handed them a tract of which the following is a copy:
“A great prayermeeting, to be largely attended by the royalty and nobility of all nations, will be held on the eve of the Day of the Lord. The kings of the earth and great men, and the rich men, and the chief captains and others of the ungodly, who seldom attend prayermeetings now, will be there to lead in prayer. ‘And they shall say to the mountains and rocks, fall on us, and hide us from the face of Him that sitteth on throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb.’ (Rev. vi, 17.) ‘Flee
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