An African on the coast of Africa, who fell much concerned about his soul, applied in various directions for help, all which did no good. He was so distressed in his mind, that he went wandering about from place to place, without meeting anything to comfort him. One day, as he was sitting solitary on the beach, some English sailors came ashore to get water. As they were rolling the cask along, one of them heard the moaning’s of the poor African, and going up to him said, “Hallo, shipmate! what’s the matter with you?” The African began to tell his tale of woe, in broken language, but was hastily interrupted by the sailor exclaiming, “Oh, I see what’s the matter with you; you must go to England, and there you’ll hear of the Christian’s Ged who paid the debt.” These words were spoken in a careless manner; but they made a deep impression on the mind of the African, who determined to proceed to England.
He traveled a great many miles, until he came to an English settlement, where he got leave to work his passage over in a ship that was lying there. During the voyage he would frequently approach one sailor and another, and say, with great simplicity, in a plaintive tone, “Please massa, you tell me where Christian’s God, dal pay de debt?” The seamen, who, it appears were all irreligious, only laughed at him, and concluded he was mad. The ship arrived at London, and the African was put ashore at Waping. Having no money to receive, he wandered from street to street, and whenever he could catch a single passenger, he would stop and say in the most melancholy manner, “Please, massa you please tell poor African man where Christian’s God, dat pay de debt?” Some told him to go about his business, some gave him money, and others, supposing him to be deranged, passed on: but he met no one to answer his question.
In this manner he continued to stroll about, as devoid of comfort in England as in his own land and frequently would he steal down some by place, and give vent to his soul in accents like these: “Ah! me no hear of Christian’s God, dat pay de debt; me walk, walk, day, day, but me no hear. White man tell me in Africa, go to England, but me no find; me go back, me die here.” He saw some people on Sunday going into a large house, which he concluded was the temple of the Christian’s God; he followed them; he heard a sermon, but he heard nothing of Christ. It was all unintelligible to him, and he still remained the subject of despondency, and still went about mourning. A gentleman accidentally overheard him one day, while he was complaining to himself of his unsuccessful inquiry after the Christian’s God. He spoke to him, and directed him to go to such a place that evening, and there he would hear of the Christian’s God. He went, and heard a sermon by that gentleman on the suretyship of Christ, in which he described sin as a debt, and Christ as paying it, and the price He paid, even His own life’s blood; and that He was ascended up to heaven, and had sent him (the preacher) to say to all, “Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Long before he came to the close of his sermon, the Spirit of God had been pleased to touch the heart of the poor African, and to enlighten his mind. He started up in the pew, but without making a noise, and in a whispering tone was heard to say, while he clasped his hands together, and tears ran down his cheeks, “Me have found Him! me have found Him! the Christian’s God, dat pay de debt!” After the meeting, the minister had some further conversation with him, and was rejoiced at the state of his mind. An opportunity was afterward taken to send him to Africa.
Dear friends, do any of you know that you are sinners? Do you know that you have displeased God—disobeyed His commands, and forfeited His love and favor? Do you feel sin, like a heavy burden, resting upon your heart and conscience? Oh! go to Jesus; He made a full atonement for sin; and if you will only believe in Him, He will forgive all your sins, remove the burden, and cancel the debt, and you can then say:
“My sins on Christ were laid,
He bore the mighty load;
The ransom price He fully paid
In groans, and tears, and blood.”