those which are actually shown to our eyes. Let the motion picture become as romantic as music, and yet remain equally consistent with reality and truth.
Thus we have considered two mysterious art-emotions, namely, that which is aroused by a peculiar artistic poignancy in the cinema design itself, and that which is aroused when the suggestions and associations of the design make our own imaginations creative. A third art-emotion comes from the conscious or sub-conscious appreciation of something exquisite in the finished product.
Exquisite values and exquisite combinations are present in the masterpieces of every art. The sweet blending of musical tones which leads into a delicacy of overtones that no ear can distinguish; the subtle shadings of color in a painting, soft touches of pictorial harmony which can be felt more surely than they can be seen; tender curves in the most vigorous statue, and marble surfaces surging so slightly that their shadows scarcely linger; crisp edges of acanthus leaves in a Greek capital and the almost imperceptible swelling of the column beneath; the sparkle, the caper and the organ-music of a poem you love—these are the exquisite things in art. And there are many others less tangible. They thrill you again and again with feelings too refined for description in words.
Can the motion picture achieve a similar refinement? Or must it always deserve the epithet "crude"? When half of the typical movie's brute strength and snorting speed can be exchanged for tenderness and spirituality we shall have a new era in cinema history. That era may dawn while the doubters are still slumbering. Even now we occasionally see motion pictures
