A Narrative of the Life of Rev. Noah Davis, A Colored Man

the less hope there was for me. Still I could not stop praying; for I felt that God was angry with me. I had sinned against his holy laws; and now, if He should cut me off, and send me to hell, it was but right. These thoughts followed me day and night, for five weeks, before I felt relief. At length, one day, while sitting on my shoe bench, I felt that my time had come when I must die. What troubled me most, was that I should have to appear before God, in all my sins;--O, what horror filled my soul at the thought!

I began to wonder what I must do. I knew I was not prepared for death and the Judgment. It is true that two of my shopmates, at that time, were members of the church; but they did not seem to care for my soul. All the rest of the hands were as wicked as myself. "What shall I do?" was in my mind, all the time I sat at work.

The reflection occurred to me, "Your mother is a christian; it may be she can save you." But this suggestion appeared to be offensive to God. Then came another tho