eyes chase madly around with this motion and have no chance to rest upon the word for which the advertiser is wasting his money.
But, to return to the question of how motions running away from each other can throw the spectator's attention to the point where they originate, we can think of no more perfect example in nature than the effect which is produced by throwing a pebble into a pool. Ripples form themselves immediately into expanding rings which seem to pursue each other steadily away from a common center. Yet, despite the outward motion of these rings our eyes constantly seek the point from which they so mysteriously arise. That this is true every reader has experienced for himself. Here then we have discovered a fascinating paradox of motion, namely, that a thing may sometimes be caught by running away from it. This ought to be good news to many a movie director.
But let us see what other means there are of emphasizing a theme or some other feature of significant beauty in a photoplay. One method is repetition. But what is the effect of repetition? Is it monotony or emphasis? Does it dull our senses or sharpen them? There can be no doubt that the steady repetition of the sea waves breaking on the beach, or of rain drops dripping on our roofs, or of leaves rustling in the forest, or of flames leaping in our fire-places can send us into the forgetfulness of sleep. But, on the other hand, the periodic repetition of a movement in a dance, or of a motif in music, or of a refrain in poetry can drive that movement, that motif, or that refrain so deeply into our souls that we never forget it. We refer, of course, to the higher forms of danc-
