2 AUGUST 1873, Page 6

THEGOVERNORSHIP OF MASSACHUSETTS.

T-FIRRE is not so much that is noble and pure in the party politics of the United States, that we can afford to view their further degradation with equanimity. Ever since the foundation of the Union, a process of degeneracy in the political character of the country has been noted by all impartial observers, and is frankly deplored by the most patriotic of Americans. The men of the Revolutionary era left behind them a tradition of politics fit to be compared with the purest and loftiest statesmanship known to history, and though, as the canker of slavery began to eat into the social life of the Republic and to its polity, the standard of political character was sensibly lowered, yet for a time men were found who. sustained the reputation of the country. Andrew Jackson, Calhoun, Benton, Henry Clay, and Daniel Webster were- men of the first mark in politics, though we cannot com- pare them for singleness of purpose, for largeness of view, or for personal worth with the "Fathers of the Republic." But as the power of the South became predominant, and the pre- tensions of the Pro-slavery party more extravagant, the states- manship of the Union rapidly declined. The Northern States- appeared to be delivered up to the single passion of dollar- getting. The policy of the victorious South dropped out of the hands of the cultivated and high-bred Virginian Conser- vatives, and was monopolised by the fanatic fire-eaters of the Gulf States. Then came a healthy reaction. The Republican party was founded in the darkest days for freedom, but it leavened the country with its spirit, organised a re- sistance to the Slave power, vanquished the enemy at the polls, fought and won the Civil War. This ordeal,. painful and perilous as it was, not only re-awakened a true national spirit in America, but developed new powers of statesmanship amongst American public men. For the time, power seemed to fall naturally to those who, if not the fittest, were eminently fit to rule the country. But within the past eight years another great change has taken place. The Union is supposed to be secured against every possible danger at home and abroad, wealth is produced more abundantly- than ever, the inexhaustible riches of the vast West are brought for the first time into employment. Thus full even to fatness with the good things of the world, the better heart of the American people is tormented with uneasy sus- picions that all is not so well with the political life of the nation. The corruption that has been discovered to penetrate so much of the commercial enterprise and of the municipal life of the country is supposed to have infected even those higher political circles which had hitherto, as Americans believed, escaped the contagion. The jargon of " rings " and "lobbies " is no longer confined to the State Legislatures and the town councils of the great cities. It has spread to and is- commonly employed concerning the Houses of Congress at Washington. And the names of conspicuous public men, of men as well known in the States as the chiefs of the Ministry or the Opposition here, are bruited about in relation with a succession of scandals in commercial and administrative life that have no European parallel. We do not say that all or even one-half of these slanderous imputations are founded upon fact. But that charges of the kind should be levelled at public men is in itself a proof of the rottenness of the- political system, and of the unfitness of the ruling classes for their functions. Unfortunately, too, evidence is not wanting that the public action of Congress is tarred with the same- brush, as some of the most discreditable episodes in the United States. What is known in the current dialect of

American politics as the " Salary grab," or the "Back-pay steal," is a scandalous proof of the degeneracy to which we have spoken.

It would be quite possible, though it might be in- vidious, to name half-a-dozen States, the representatives from which divide between them four-fifths of the in- telligence, and at least one-half of the high reputation for personal honour that is to be found in both Houses of Congress put together. It is these elements that maintain a standard of political capacity and of upright dealing, which for very shame keeps Congress from the crudest political blunders and the most shameful of jobs. And of the salt that thus keeps American politics tolerably sweet, by far the largest part is furnished by the New England States. New England has always stood in the van of American intel- ligence, and of New England Massachusetts is the head. The literary fame of Boston is a possession which the citizens of the " Bay State " would not part with in exchange for the commercial pre-eminence of New York, or for the limitless possibilities of the future to which the vigorous young com- munities of the West are the heirs. Nor has Massachusetts been wanting in that practical capacity for politics which is characteristic of the pure Anglo-Saxon race. In spite, too, of the proverbial " smartness " of the thorough-bred Yankee, a Puritan rigour of temperament and conduct has, upon the whole, rescued the politics of New England from the taint of corruption which has been so widely diffused elsewhere throughout the Union. And the men whom Massachusetts has sent into political life have not been unworthy of their birth or their mission. The great intellect of Daniel Webster was perhaps too often tempted to compass political ends by compromises and subtleties, but it was governed, on the whole, by truly patriotic impulses, and was united with a stainless character. Mr. Sumner, again, though we may deplore the passion and the vanity that obscure his judg- ment, is not only an orator and a political personage of the first rank, but a man against whose personal honour and good faith no suspicion has ever been breathed. If other of the political representatives of Massachusetts in modern days have been less conspicuous than Mr. Webster and Mr. Sumner, they have still been men of the same type,—with hardly an ex- ception, of undoubted capacity and unblemished integrity. A contest has, however, been pending for some time, the result of which may very possibly work remarkable changes in the political character of Massachusetts, and indirectly in the whole fabric of American politics. The Governorship of the State of Massachusetts, to which Mr. Washburn was elected two years ago, becomes vacant in the present autumn. It may be remembered that Mr. Washburn's opponent in 1871 was General Butler. The candidature of the latter was met almost with a howl of execration by the organs of public opinion in the State, and with amazed dis- gust by the better class of the people. Although General Butler did his best to justify the animosity with which he was assailed by promulgating wild and shameless theories of re- pudiation, and declaiming ridiculous anti-English bunkum, he at the same time so dexterously ingratiated himself with the mass of the people, he so skilfully played off one competitor against another, he fought for his own hand with so much vigour and shrewdness of fence, that, to the dismay of the party leaders and managers who had professed to despise him, he was very near obtaining the Republican nomination for Governor of the State Convention. It was only at the last moment, by a sudden and desperate resolution, that all the other candidates and their supporters were induced to abandon their differences, and to unite in opposing Mr. Butler's elec- tion. The Government of General Grant exerted itself strenuously in opposition to Mr. Butler. The coalition was accomplished, and Mr. Washburn obtained the Republican nomination by a majority of 180, in a Convention of more than 1,100 delegates. Mr. Butler, however, was not disheartened ; re-elected to the House of Representatives at Washington, he proceeded, with cynical resolution, to conciliate the forces which had procured his former defeat. The regular organi- sation of the Republican party, which is nearly identical in its interests and working with the Republican majority in Congress, had led the opposition against him. The adminis- tration of General Grant had also been hostile. Both were to be conciliated. No conspicuous politician in the State had assailed the character of General Grant and the honesty of his administration more vigorously than General Butler, and it was with some astonishment that even the American public, accustomed to political gyrations, saw Butler come forward as the thick-and-thin defender of the Presidential policy, and as the advocate of a measure regarded— we believe very unjustly and unwisely—with suspicion in America for the increase of the President's salary. Next came the measure known as the " Salary Grab," to which we have already alluded, which was carried through Congress mainly by Butler's energy, if it was not originally his device. We quite admit that it was fair for Congress to make a law increasing prospectively the amount of remuneration given to the representatives of the people. But to extend the law backwards two years, and to possess themselves for this period of the difference between the increased salary and the rate for which they had contracted to serve, and had actually served, was an act of dishonesty too shameless to be tolerated even by American opinion. A clamour was raised so loud and angry that only a few of the most callous of the Congressional intriguers have ventured to draw the two years' back pay. Only a few, on the other hand, have taken the simple and straightforward course of drawing the money and paying it back into the Treasury. A great number of the Congressmen have left the sums accruing as back pay standing in their names, to be drawn, as it is suggested, when public indignation has blown over.

The result of these judicious operations at Washington has been that the influence of General Grant's Adminis- tration, and that of the Republican majority in Congress, who were opposed to General Butler's pretensions two years ago, are now quietly working in his favour. The Republican journals of the State of Massachusetts no longer denounce him as a disgrace to the Republican party, and his influence with the powers at Washington is demon- strated by the fact that when recently the office of United States' District Attorney for Massachusetts fell vacant, General Butler supported the claims of Judge Sanger, against whose appointment the Bar of the State emphatically protested. Butler's man, however, won, and now every office-holder, who fears dismissal, every place-seeker and every lobbyer, looks upon Butler as the recognised ally of the President, and the future dispenser of official patronage in Massachusetts. It is unnecessary to point out what a powerful force this places at the disposal of the favoured candidate. If with the Administration against him, and the Republican party managers repudiating him, Butler two years ago could poll three-sevenths of the delegates in the State Convention, what may he not do now, with the party managers favourable, with the President actively working for him, with the lever of patronage at his disposal, and with Congress benignly grateful ?

We regret to believe that General Butler's election to the Go- vernorship of Massachusetts is not only a possibility, but a pro- bability, and from this Governorship the ascent is easy to the Senate at Washington and to the highest rounds of the political ladder. From the State, then, which heretofore has been looked to as that which has kept up a high standard of character in American politics, will come the cruelest blow that has yet been dealt at the repute of American politicians. It is bad enough that General Butler, the advocate of repudi- ation, the author of the "Back-pay " scandal, and the preacher of the most reckless and shameless interference with Railway property, should be a leader in the House of Representatives. But to promote him to higher dignities, would be to proclaim to the world that his political career has been endorsed by the people of the leading State of New England. General Butler is a man of undoubted ability, a clever political tac- tician, a skilful master of rhetoric, of untiring activity and vigour of purpose. We have no reason to believe that he is personally tainted with corruption, but he uses corruption as a political weapon without the shadow of a scruple, perhaps without a suspicion that there is anything to be ashamed of in its use. A demagogue so accomplished in his craft may be a fitting representative for some American communities. But we had hoped that Massachusetts was not one of these, and if she has become so, we must feel that there are lower depths in the future of American politics than any the world has yet fathomed.