David Paterson tried.

He addressed critical issues in the state. He assumed the mantle of governor of the state

of New York when it fell on him, in Harry Truman's words, like a ton of bricks, after Gov.

Eliot Spitzer resigned in a prostitution scandal.

He set out to remove the accidental part of being the accidental governor when he

announced, less than a week ago, that he would campaign to be elected governor in his own

right.

But after not quite two years of leadership that inspired few followers, and after weeks of

bubbling scandal that exploded Thursday with serious accusations of a real misuse of official

power, Paterson succeeded in making, and making correctly, what must have been the most

difficult decision a person in his position could face.

Paterson announced Friday afternoon that he would not, after all, be a candidate for

governor this year.

It was the right thing to do.

Paterson was already facing the monumental task of trying to govern New York ... which, these

days, means trying to craft a budget that starts out in a multibillion-dollar ditch and stands

little chance of being improved by a feckless Legislature ... even as he ran a statewide

campaign. He was already weakened in that task by failing to surround himself with a capable

staff.

The task was rendered impossible when word came this week that Paterson may have involved

himself in a case where one of his top aides, David Johnson, had been charged with a brutal

assault on a former girlfriend. Not only has the chief of Paterson's State Police detail been

accused of the outrageous step of contacting the woman as the legal process was moving along,

a move that could hardly be seen as anything but threatening, but the woman's attorney said

Paterson himself contacted the alleged victim, right before the woman failed to appear for a

court hearing, effectively ending the proceedings against Johnson.

Those are acts that, even if no overt threats were made, seriously undermine the unbiased

course of justice the woman was seeking. The damage to the administration's ability to mete

out impartial justice was serious enough that Denise O'Donnell, the governor's chief criminal

justice officer, resigned Thursday in protest. Again, it was the right decision.

Paterson had an out. When polls showed he had little support, and President Obama indicated

he should not run, he could have ... and probably should have ... secured an ideal position with

the state or federal government. But Paterson was committed to serving as governor, and that

opportunity passed him by.

What remains is the question of whether Paterson should himself resign, or serve out the 10

months left in his inherited term.

If he stays, Paterson would be attempting to govern a financially bankrupt and political

riven state as a lame duck, with not even the possibility that he will be governor next year

to give him some influence over the public discourse or the legislative process. And he would

be doing so as the investigation into just how far over the line he stepped in meddling in the

judicial process on behalf of a longtime aide accused of domestic abuse.

If he goes, Paterson will leave the Executive Chamber to Lt. Gov. Richard Ravitch, who was

appointed to office, not elected. While widely regarded as a highly capable bureaucrat,

Ravitch has never held elective office and is largely unknown. He has no personal pot of

loyalty among lawmakers and the legality of his own appointment as lieutenant governor was

upheld by only a 4-3 vote of the state's highest court.

Anyone opposed to a Gov. Ravitch's political agenda, whatever that turns out to be, will

question the new governor's legal and constitutional legitimacy in ways that draw attention

away from the crucial issues of spending and taxing.

That would be bad. But it might be better than Paterson trying to govern as the lamest of

lame ducks.