The Sunday Herald And Weekly National Intelligencer

FORGET-ME-NOTS.

Something ought to be done with the police.
The newspaper reports of the outrageous arrests made during the past few weeks go far to prove that if the police force of Washington are not as a whole a gang of ruffians there are some unmitigated ruffians among them. The arrest of Mr. John H. Smith, ex-United States Minister to Hayti, by Officer Trammell was a brutally proceeding, and the action of Officer Loftus in collaring Mr. Charles E. Leonard in front of the Census Office, where he was attending to legitimate public business, and then driving him through the streets in the police wagon to the police station, was even worse. There was no justification for the arrest in either case. Mr. Smith's offense consisted in cautioning a number of negro boys against gathering around the officer, who had an old negro in custody, and Mr. Leonard was subjected to the outrageous treatment of Officer Loftus because he didn't take to his heels and run the moment the officer ordered him to depart from the place where he was standing on the public street. The real secret of the arrest in each case, I fancy, was that the officer did not like the color of the man's hair or the shape of his nose.

It has apparently come to this, that if a policeman doesn't like you he will run you in, and to gratify his dislike for you he will subject you to more indignity and ignominy than was intended for burglars or pickpockets. An eminently peaceful and law-abiding citizen, whose name it is not necessary to mention, was arrested the other day on Pennsylvania avenue, and charged at the police station, and afterward at the Police Court, with fast driving. The charge was very ridiculous, for the horse couldn't have traveled above six miles an hour to save his life, and at the time the arrest was made the team was actually standing still. The real secret of the arrest was that the policeman didn't like the man. The style of his hat or something about him impressed the officer unfavorably, and he conceived a dislike for him, a dislike which, of course, could only be gratified by running him in. The office of a policeman is the office of a tyrant. The best laws are useless in the presence of a ruffianly police. A police officer has no more right to lay hands upon a citizen who has violated no law than a highwayman has to rob or shoot you. A citizen ought to have as much right to protect himself from the violence of the one as the other, and if these outrageous assaults by the police upon private citizens should continue it is not to be expected but that force will be met by force, and the ruffians will be brought to their senses some fine morning by some of them receiving their deserts.