Insignificant as the form may seem to one who has never studied it, it is a mirror of human life, and as such can be made a means of criticizing public wrong or folly. It can express a universal feeling, and is one of the finest agents of humor. By its aid Mr. Dooley reflects the weaknesses and foibles of people and parties in such a way as to make a whole nation smile, and even to mould public sentiment. Thus, the amusing and humorous monologues must not be despised. Think of the services humor has rendered in the advance of human civilization! Alas for him who cannot smile at folly, and alas for human art which appeals only to the morbid! The highest function of human art is to awaken pleasure at the sight of the beautiful, and the true. If a man finds pleasure in what is below his ordinary plane of life, he injures himself. If enjoyment leads him in the direction of his ideal, although indirectly, by a portrayal of the comic, the abnormal, or even of low characters, he is benefited, no matter how this benefit is received. Men delight to teach and to preach, but it is astonishing how little direct teaching and preaching accomplish. On account of the hardness of the heart, the parable, or some other less direct method of teaching, some artistic method, that is, is absolutely necessary. We desire to see a living scene portrayed before us; we must know and judge for ourselves. We must perceive both cause and effect, and then make the application to our own lives. Art, especially dramatic art, is a necessity of human nature. "Without art," says William Winter, "each of us would be alone." Only by art are we brought near together, and chiefly in our art will be found our true advance in civilization. The monologue is a new method, a new avenue of approach from heart to heart. Dramatic art must have many forms. When no longer truthfully presented by the play, as is often the case; when it has become corrupted into a spectacular show, into something for the eye rather than for the mind; when no longer concerned with the interpretation of character and truth, or when debased to mere money making, then the irrepressible dramatic spirit must evolve a new form. Hence, the origin and the significance of the monologue. Whether the play can be restored to dramatic dignity or not, the monologue has come to stay. As a parallel, or even as a subordinate phase of dramatic art, it has become a part of literature. It is distinct from the play, and from every other literary form or phase of histrionic expression. Of all forms of art, the monologue has most direct relation to one character only, a character not posing for his portrait. It portrays and interprets an individual unconsciously revealing himself. It presents some crucial situation of life, and brings one character face to face with another character, the one best calculated to reveal the hidden springs of conduct.