Thus it is that not all good talk can be cited as a good or typical example of dialogue. I have taken philosophical examples――let me turn hastily to something which, I hope at least, I know rather more about. We all know, and doubtless all love, Sam Weller’s talk, but Sam’s creator is, naturally enough, too much enamoured of him to give his interlocutors much of a chance. The whole is designed for the better exhibition of Sam――the other party is, in the slang of the stage, ‘feeding him’――giving him openings. It’s one-sided. A quite modern instance of the same kind, and one which, at its best, is not unworthy of being mentioned in the same breath, is to be found in _The Conversations of Mr. Dooley_. ‘Hinnissey’ gets no chance, he is merely a ‘feeder’; the whole aim is the exhibition of the mind of Mr. Dooley. Contrast with these the conversations in _Tristram Shandy_――to my mind some of the finest and, scientifically regarded, most perfect dialogue in English literature. Every character who speaks contributes――really contributes, and is not merely a feeder or a foil. Each has his own mind, his own point of view, and manfully and independently maintains it. Uncle Toby is the author’s pet perhaps, but I think he is hardly less fond of Mr. Shandy――while Mrs. Shandy, Dr. Slop, Corporal Trim, and the rest, are all sharply defined and characterized out of their own mouths, and have their independent value as well as their independent views. If you would seek good modern examples of these dialogic virtues, you might turn to Mr. Anstey’s _Voces Populi_ or to Mr. Jacobs’s stories. In the latter the things that make you laugh most are often not in themselves remarkable――certainly not witty and indeed not aiming at wit; but they suddenly exhibit and light up conflicting points of view――and irresistible humour springs full-born from the clash of outlook and of temperament.