The Democrats of Massachusetts are perplexed in regard to the choice of a candidate for gubernatorial honors. In their dilemma they seem indisposed to heed the counsel of the venerable Dutchman who, on a certain critical occasion, asserted that it was not wise to "swap horses while crossing a stream."

It so happens that in this present year the Democratic party throughout the country is crossing a stream, a deep and muddy one which divides its former prestige from its future hopes and prospects. The wise and foolish members of the party are at loggerheads. Both have taken into their confidence an anomalous contingent which is neither in sympathy, nor even in alliance with them as regards principles. The Mugwumps, so called, whose only recommendation in politics is, that they have a well-filled purse and know how to use it to bolster up what they are pleased to designate as their "independence," after having bitterly opposed the Democratic party, in season and out of season, now join hands with their deluded brethren for a grand all hands round. By their help a President of the United States has been elected, by their dictation his policy has been mapped out, and by their threatening attitude the entire administration is controlled. A similar condition of affairs was never before known in the history of American politics.

Now, the Independent Republican will always be a Republican in principles. The same honest motives which impelled him to oppose the chosen candidates of a majority of the Republican party, at the last national canvass, will again and always prompt him to oppose a Simon-pure Democrat of the Democrats. So long as he can have his own way, he will deny an equal right to his political neighbor. One thing is very evident, and that is, in Massachusetts the Independents are bound to rule so long as the Democratic party will continue to let them; and that the administration encourages this state of affairs is alike evident to all careful observers. It would be easy to make some very interesting disclosures on this theme, and it is not improbable that they will be made very shortly.

But we began by asserting that the party in the old Bay State is in a quandary. It has reached a point when one of two alternatives must be chosen,—either to force an issue with its allies, as well as with its Republican opponents, by nominating a downright, old-fashioned Democrat for the governorship; or, acquiescing with the wishes of its allies, to attempt a quasi victory over its opponents. In the former case defeat would be honorable, though defeat is by no means a foregone conclusion; in the latter case a victory is probable which would be worse than a defeat for the Democrats. We may not presume to give any advice in this matter; and yet it would seem that some well-intentioned and honest advice is needed. If there is to-day a true-blue, a frank and out-spoken Democratic newspaper in the city of Boston, we do not know its name. Our esteemed contemporaries of so-called Democratic persuasion, in this cultured city, are either bridled by the administration or are timid in expressing their convictions. Why has it never occurred to any one of them to urge the selection of a candidate that has not allied himself with the new gods in Israel,—a stanch, dyed-in-the-wool, old-fashioned Jackson Democrat, such for example as the Honorable Charles Levi Woodbury? He has always been an ornament to his party, wise and prudent in his counsels, broad in his scholarship and still broader in his views, untrammelled in his profession of honest principles, and true to the faith. He was never known to wander after strange gods: he has never paraded before the eyes of the public, clad in a Joseph's coat of many colors; he has never sought the emolument or the honor of public office, and yet, if we are not greatly mistaken, his scrupulous fidelity to party principles, his unswerving integrity, and the confidence which men of all parties repose in him, have merited for him as high an honor as lies within the gift of the people. There are but few such men in Massachusetts, and their worth is only comprehended when they are compared with that of the aristocratic dudes whom President Cleveland has thus far smiled upon in this state.

The Massachusetts Democrats have this year a grand opportunity to assert their independence, and to set a wholesome example to the party in other states. They can do no safer, wiser, or more honorable thing than to nominate Judge Woodbury, a Democrat of Democrats, as their standard bearer.

The Boston Evening Record is a sample of daily journalism that is getting to be rather common nowadays. Like many other of its contemporaries, it seems to be impressed with the idea that the province of a newspaper is to coin facts rather than to chronicle them; and that editorial ability consists in getting away from the truth as far as possible.

In a recent issue, it comments on General Butler's article in the North American Review, and more particularly upon the reason why the General did not desire the Republican nomination for the Vice Presidency in 1864, expressed by him as follows:—

Being made to sit as presiding officer over the senate, to listen for four years to debates more or less stupid, in which I can take no part or say a word, nor even be allowed a vote upon any subject which concerns the welfare of the country, except when my enemies might think my vote would injure me in the estimation of the people, and therefore, by some parliamentary trick, make a tie on such question, so I should be compelled to vote; and then, at the end of four years (as nowadays no Vice President is ever elected President), and because of the dignity of the position I had held, not to be permitted to go on with my profession, and therefore with nothing left for me to do save to ornament my lot in the cemetery tastefully, and get into it gracefully and respectably, as a Vice President should do.

The Record asserts that, "this is about as near the truth as Butler ever gets," and then goes on to make some additional statements which, to say the least, are exceedingly interesting, and proofs of which the Editor's Table respectfully requests.

The Record says; "It is true that his (Butler's) name was proposed for the nomination for Vice President in 1864."

Upon whose authority does this assertion rest, and by whom was General Butler's name thus proposed?

The Record says:—"It is also true that he (Butler) heard of it, and objected to the plan not for the reasons he now gives, but because he 'didn't want to run on the ticket with Abe Lincoln.'"

Intensely interesting this, an important fact it would seem for the future historian. But,—will the Record please quote its authority?

The Record says:—"That this was the ground for his (Butler's) refusal to take the nomination, in case it should be offered to him, was well known to those who were informed of the exact state of affairs at the time."

The historian is still incredulous. All this "was well known to those who were informed," etc.,—undoubtedly, but who were these persons? Will the Record cite the name of one living man thus informed? Did General George A. Gordon know anything about it: and if not, why not?

The Record says:—"Butler, in the last days of the war, uttered an insult to the President who was shortly to be made a martyr."

Well, this is really a serious charge, and the public certainly will be interested in knowing what the "insult" was. Will the Record kindly explain? For the present, the subject may rest here. In the name of truth and justice, however, the Editor's Table humbly requests that the Evening Record will enlighten its contemporaries.

The Republican newspapers have all been pleased to remark that President Cleveland has done a very decent thing by refusing to appoint as post-master at Mr. Blaine's home, in Augusta, the Democratic editor, who "was virulently active in publishing particularly unclean falsehoods concerning the Republican candidate last fall." Mr. Blaine had a perfect right to object, and he exercised the right, to the appointment of Morton; and likewise, the President had a perfect right not to heed the objection,—a right, however, which he did not exercise. The action of the President therefore commends itself to the right-thinking men of all parties.

So far as the Editor's Table can remember, this is the first opportunity that the Republican newspapers have improved to say anything good of President Cleveland, who, it is not forgotten, was a target for as virulent and uncalled for abuse as was ever heaped upon any known American citizen. Magnanimity is always in order even in politics.

Civil Service Reform seems to-day to be the mare of the Mugwumps and the nightmare of everybody else. The eloquence or, if you please, the waste of words which the minority employ in advocating its deceptive principles, is only to be contrasted with the almost ludicrous indifference with which both Republican and Democratic majorities regard it. Thoughtful people are, at this time, more concerned with the prospective treatment of the tariff problem.

Now, it is neither our purpose nor desire to add to the literature of discussion, on this important theme; but one thought which occurs to us may here be submitted in the form of a question. People who talk much on tariff topics are supposed to be interested in the same, and to have some reason, good, bad, or indifferent, for advancing their diverse arguments.

To all such, the inquiry may be addressed:—Are you sure that you believe in a "protective" tariff because you think it is a public benefit, or because you think it is a private benefit?

And again:—Does "protective" tariff protect? If it does,—whom?

Last autumn, the cry arose throughout the land that free trade meant the destruction of home labor, and the "introduction of the pauper labor of Europe," or at least a competition at home with the pauper labor of Europe. Well, some very dismal pictures have been drawn of the condition of the pauper labor of Europe, and when thinking of them, it must be confessed that one does not like to run any risks.

But suppose that we widen the thought a little. At this very moment, the iron monopoly of this country is raising a fund to head off a tariff revision, or to bring about an increased duty. What can be said of the Iron Monopoly? This, as one fact; that in Pennsylvania, it employs miners at fourteen dollars a month, charges them five dollars a month each for a tenement in which to live, and charges them exorbitant prices for the food and provisions which, in spite of a law prohibiting the system, must be purchased at the Monopoly's stores. At the end of the month, many of these miners have not only consumed every dollar of their wages but are actually in debt. It is stated, further, as an incontestable fact that, "a miner who objects to the amount of work or wages given to him gets no more of either, for he is at once dropped from the rolls, and his name is sent to the neighboring mines as that of a man unlit for employment." These people subsist—miraculously—on scanty and unwholesome food, and frequently are subjected to the greatest hardships.

We assert that this is no fanciful picture. It is the absolute truth, with the worst untold. Monopoly is fond of calling these pitiable men "Molly Maguires,"—"a dangerous class that must be carefully watched!" These men are protected, and their industry and their entire living afford a charming picture of the results of the "protective" system, so far as the Iron Monopoly is concerned. With such facts as these to ponder over, and with the additional knowledge that there is not a single person today employed in a cotton or woolen mill in the United States who is not taxed in the name of protection, to enrich the corporation for whom he labors, it seems almost inexplicable that honest men should neglect one of the greatest and, as God knows, one of the most threatening problems of this age and country, and waste words and precious moments over that most arrant humbug—Civil Service Reform. The People are more important than the Government: for to-day the Government is the politicians.