IN WASHINGTON, D. C., 1885.

On being introduced by Hon. B. K. BRUCE, on the occasion of the

twenty-third anniversary of the abolition of slavery in the

District of Columbia, FREDERICK DOUGLASS spoke as follows:

FRIENDS AND FELLOW-CITIZENS: Your committee of arrangements were pleased

to select me as your orator of the day, on an occasion similar to this,

two years ago. At that time, while appreciating the honor conferred upon

me, I ventured to express the wish that some one of the many competent

colored young men of this city and District had been chosen to discharge

this honorable duty in my stead. There were excellent reasons for that

wish then, and there are even much better reasons for the same wish now.

Time and cultivation have largely added to the number of those from whom

a suitable selection might have been made, and one of these silent, yet

powerful, agents whose mission it is to create and destroy all things

mortal has left me much less desire for such distinguished service now

than two years ago. Happily, however, the burden is not heavy or

grievous, and the proper story of this occasion is simple, familiar, and

easily told. In observing the anniversary of the abolition of slavery in

the District of Columbia, we attract the attention of the American

people to one of the most important and significant events in their

national history, and at the same time evince a grateful and proper

sense of the wonderful changes for the better that have taken place in

our condition, and in that of the country generally. Though in its

immediate and legal operation this act of emancipation was local in its

range as to territory, and limited in its application as to the number

of persons liberated by it, morally it looms upon us as a grand,

comprehensive, and far-reaching measure.

To appreciate its importance we must not consider it as a single

independent act standing alone, nor as one pertaining to this District

only, nor to the colored people only. We must regard it as a part of a

series of splendid public measures, as one of so many steps in the

national progress looking to one beneficent and glorious result, a large

contribution to the honor and welfare of the whole country. It was the

auspicious beginning of a great movement in the councils of the nation,

made necessary by the war, and one which finally culminated in the

complete and permanent abolition of slavery, not only in the District of

Columbia, but in every part of the Republic. Thus viewed it was the one

act which broke the gloomy spell that bound the nation in the bonds of

servile, unnatural reverence and awe for slavery. It withdrew the

sympathy of European nations from the rebellion; it brought the moral

support of the civilized world to the loyal cause; it erased the foulest

blot that ever stained our national escutcheon; it gave to the war for

the Union a logical, humane, and consistent purpose; it solved a problem

which was the standing grief of good men, and the perplexity of

statesmen for ages; it gave courage and hope to our armies in the field;

it weakened the rebellion; it raised the whole nation to a higher and

happier plane of civilization, and placed the American people where they

never were before, in a position where they could consistently and

effectively preach liberty to all the nations of the world.

The 16th of April, the anniversary of this great act of the nation,

strangely and erroneously enough has been considered simply as the

colored man’s day only. The business of consecrating and preserving its

memory has been, by common consent, relegated to him exclusively. But,

in this, our fellow-citizens have been more generous to us than just to

themselves. Colored men have very little more reason to hallow this day

than have white men. If it brought freedom to us, it brought peace and

safety to them, and hence they may well enough unite in this and similar

celebrations, and regard the day as theirs as well as ours. No truth

taught by our national history is more evident than this, that while

slavery dominated the southern half of the Republic, and free

institutions prevailed in the northern half, peace and harmony between

the two sections were utterly and forever impossible. No man can serve

two masters, and the attempt of our Government to do this was a

stupendous failure. The union between liberty and slavery was a marriage

without love, a house divided against itself; a couple unequally yoked

together, held together by external force, not by moral cohesion; it

brought happiness to neither, and misery to both.

Like any other embodiment of social and material interest peculiar to a

given community, slavery generated its own sentiments, its own morals,

manners, and religion; and begot a character in all around it in favor

of its own existence.

In nearly everything indigenous and peculiar to society in the two

sections, they were as separate and distinct as are any two nations on

the globe. The longer they were thus linked together in the bonds of

outward union, the more palpable became their points of difference, and

the more passionate became their hostility to each other. Liberty became

more and more the glory of the North, and slavery more and more the idol

of the South. Not even the bonds of Christian fellowship were strong

enough to hold together the churches of the two sections.

In view of this settled and growing antagonism, only one of three

courses was opened to the nation: The first was to make the country all

slaves, the second was to make it all free, and the third was to divide

the Union, and let each section set up a government of its own--the one

based upon the system of slavery, and the other based upon the

principles of the Declaration of American Independence.

Thanks to the wisdom, loyalty, patriotism, courage, and statesmanship

developed by the crisis, the nation rejected equally the idea of making

the country all slaves, and permitting two separate nations, with

hostile civilizations, side by side, with a chafing, bloody border

between them, but chose to give us one country, one citizenship, and one

liberty for all the people, and hence we are here this evening. There

was never any physical reason for the dissolution of the Union. The

geographical and topographical conditions of the country all served to

unite rather than to divide the two sections. It was moral not physical

dynamite that blew the two sections asunder.

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