Intemperance in Washington.
THE Commissioners of the District of Columbia have presented to Congress a new revenue bill, removing most of the restrictions upon the liquor traffic, and which, if passed, will give the rum-sellers complete possession of the field. The existing law provides that the consent of a majority of the property owners on the square must be obtained before a groggery can be opened. This amounts in some places to practical prohibition. But the present bill relieves the liquor-seller of this burden, permits him to settle down wherever he can find an opening, and then before the nuisance can be abated, the sober Christian people have to go to work and get the signatures of a majority of the property owners and residents, asking for his removal. As might be expected, this measure has called forth the vigorous and determined opposition of the whole temperance forces of the District, and several largely attended meetings have been held to give expression to the Christian sentiment of the community on the matter. It is hardly possible that Congress will disregard the remonstrances and protests that have been made against the bill. Still, the past shows us that we have little to hope for from Congress. Under Congressional rule Washington has more facilities for making drunkards than any other city of the Union. There are now 1,198 drinking-places, which is one to every 150 men, women, and children. For the accommodation of members who found it rather irksome to go a block for their gin, the basement of the Capitol has been turned into a liquor saloon. Here is what Senator Frye said on the matter, when the question of adopting a rule prohibiting the sale of intoxicating liquors in the basement of the Senate chamber was up for discussion:— “Why, Mr. President, I have seen a restaurant of one of these Houses become an open, notorious, low, miserable groggery. I have seen a man with his pantaloons inside his boots, with his coarse blouse on, standing up at the bar of a restaurant of one of the Houses of Congress, and drinking miserable whisky out of a cup. MR. FRYE—“Out of a crockery cup; and I have seen whisky ordered again and again. They called it ‘tea.’ It was brought on and placed on the table in a cup put into a saucer, and called ‘tea,’ and anybody, outside or inside, member of Congress or clerk, or a man from the town, could step in and step up to that bar and order his ‘tea,’ and drink it out of a cup.” And this “groggery” is still open, and the members may be seen at any time taking their ‘tea.’ The hope, therefore, of securing temperance legislation from such a body, is certainly a dim and distant one.—Corr. Christian Statesman.