the whole picture, ranging over all of its parts, and returning again to the center of attraction. In certain compositions this whole tour of inspection may be accomplished in one trip, and may be repeated at will, while in other compositions the inspection may require various side trips away from the center of interest to the outlying districts and back again. Of course, we are not aware that our eyes are doing all these things when we are at the movies, but that is what happens, just the same.
These visual processes take place in an exceedingly short time, usually only a fraction of a second, but they are real physical processes, nevertheless, subject to the laws of physical comfort and fatigue, and capable of being tested by the ordinary laws of physical efficiency.
Perhaps the first test, in this hectic age of ours, is speed. The quicker we can see and interpret a thing after we begin looking at it, the more satisfied we are. Another test is ease, or freedom from fatigue. The less energy we expend in looking, the more pleased we are. Hence, if the several parts of a picture can be quickly and easily seen and related to each other, the picture as a whole may be considered beautiful, providing it satisfies certain other demands, which will be analyzed later on.
Now suppose that we are at the movies and that some pictorial moment from the flowing action is arrested in our minds. If we are critical and feel like analyzing the effect of that arrested moment we may well ask such questions as the following:
What portion of that picture did we look at first, and why? Was that the spot which the cinema com-
