the matter.  The men of Ipswich say warmly, “It must have been our town; for Dickens says it was corrupt, and a more corrupt town than our town you couldn’t have met in a month.”  The men of Sudbury reply with rising passion, “Permit us to tell you, gentlemen, that our town was quite as corrupt as your town any day of the week.  Our town was a common nuisance; and we defy our enemies to question it.”  “Perhaps you will tell us,” sneer the citizens of Ipswich, “that your politics were ever as thoroughly filthy as——­” “As filthy as anything,” answer the Sudbury men, undauntedly.  “Nothing in politics could be filthier.  Dickens must have noticed how disgusting we were.”  “And could he have failed to notice,” the others reason indignantly, “how disgusting we were?  You could smell us a mile off.  You Sudbury fellows may think yourselves very fine, but let me tell you that, compared to our city, Sudbury was an honest place.”  And so the controversy goes on.  It seems to me to be a new and odd kind of controversy.

Naturally, an outsider feels inclined to ask why Eatanswill should be either one or the other.  As a matter of fact, I fear Eatanswill was every town in the country.  It is surely clear that when Dickens described the Eatanswill election he did not mean it as a satire on Sudbury or a satire on Ipswich; he meant it as a satire on England.  The Eatanswill election is not a joke against Eatanswill; it is a joke against elections.  If the satire is merely local, it practically loses its point; just as the “Circumlocution Office” would lose its point if it were not supposed to be a true sketch of all Government offices; just as the Lord Chancellor in “Bleak House” would lose his point if he were not supposed to be symbolic and representative of all Lord Chancellors.  The whole moral meaning would vanish if we supposed that Oliver Twist had got by accident into an exceptionally bad workhouse, or that Mr. Dorrit was in the only debtors’ prison that was not well managed.  Dickens was making game, not of places, but of methods.  He poured all his powerful genius into trying to make the people ashamed of the methods.  But he seems only to have succeeded in making people proud of the places.  In any case, the controversy is conducted in a truly extraordinary way.  No one seems to allow for the fact that, after all, Dickens was writing a novel, and a highly fantastic novel at that.  Facts in support of Sudbury or Ipswich are quoted not only from the story itself, which is wild and wandering enough, but even from the yet wilder narratives which incidentally occur in the story, such as Sam Weller’s description of how his father, on the way to Eatanswill, tipped all the voters into the canal.  This may quite easily be (to begin with) an entertaining tarradiddle of Sam’s own invention, told, like many other even more improbable stories, solely to amuse Mr. Pickwick.  Yet the champions of these two towns positively ask each other to produce a canal, or to fail for ever in their attempt to prove