May 17, 1803.
_Respected Friend_,
I am perhaps presumptuous in troubling you to read this. But cannot let
slip an opportunity of addressing you with what I wish you to know even
when you have arrived at your native country, and may contemplate on a
subject which I hope will not displease you, and I will thank Heaven I have
it in my power to let one amongst the people called Quakers[2] see, written
by the hand of an African, the sentiments of his soul. I mean only to
trouble you with the obligations that race of people, myself amongst that
great multitude, are to you indebted; and may the unremitting pains which
have been taken not fall to the ground. We have been oppressed with cruelty
and the heavy task-masters in the West Indies and the southern States of
America for many centuries back, with not only the horrible weight of
bondage, but have been subject to heavy iron chains, too heavy to bear, had
not the Creator of all things framed our constitutions to bear them, and
all the deep cuts and lashes the inhuman-hearted drivers please to mangle
us with. Had not the all-directing hand of Providence made us come under
the notice of the Friends, who formed an abolition society for our relief,
many thousands of us would be dragging out our lives in wretchedness, like
those of our brethren who have never yet tasted the sweet cup of liberty.
Yet while the nations of Europe are contending to catch the draught, the
African is forbidden to lift up his head towards it. Every man has a right
to his liberty, and we must by the ties of nature come under the title of
men: but are dragged from our native land, in our old age or in our
infancy, and sold as the brute, to the planters; the infant dragged from
its parents, and the husband from wife and children, and hurried into the
cane field, to give independence to their owners, and annex abundance to
their riches. And how is this, that God created us amongst the rest of
human beings, and yet man would level us with the brute? We were not all
born Christians, but many have become so; and I pray Heaven many thousands
of us may be received at the bar of God amongst the righteous at his right
hand, and with you glorify him in Heaven for ever. I pray that the Africans
may enjoy his holy privileges, and let their light shine before men.
The cross[3] you met with in your sermon at Bethel African church grieved
me much, but it originated with white men. Had it been one of my
complexion, it would prey on my feelings to the very heart. But I hope you
will forget it. If I was a converted soul in the Lord, I could address you
on a more spiritual subject. But alas! I am an unfortunate being not born a
second time. Yet weak as I am, the prayers of an unconverted African shall
be offered to Heaven for your happiness on earth, and in the world to come
life everlasting. And may the vessel in which you may embark for England be
attended with a fair and pleasant passage, and land you safe on its shores.
And when you shall lay your head on a dying pillow, to leave this
troublesome world, may you be surrounded with a blessed convoy of angels to
attend you to the Throne of God.
I am, Yours,
Of The African Race
--"_The Extraordinary Conversion and Religious Experience of Dorothy Ripley
with her First Voyage in America_," 132-144.