Every firm engaged in the fascinating business of making and reproducing cinematographic plays gives the most careful and painstaking attention to the first "performance" of a film. Of course it is held in private before only the officials and a few critics invited for the exercise of their judgment. The event amounts to the same thing as the dress rehearsal of a play to be reproduced upon the stage, and any changes that are necessary in the judgment of the critics cause just about as much trouble. Any one of a hundred things may be wrong. Some little incongruous detail in the scenery may be noticed, some jarring gesture by an actor or a scene in which the action does not proceed fast enough.

If the officials of the firm decide that a film is below their standard, parts must be cut out, and new parts photographed over again until the whole thing suits requirements. Sometimes one scene must be done over many times before it suits exactly, and several hundred feet of film wasted. At a cost of about three cents a foot, it is plain that the waste in film alone is great, but when a big scene with a hundred or so actors in it has to be done over again, the cost of assembling the company, paying their salaries and other expenses is enormous.

Finally, when the officials themselves are satisfied with a film it is thrown on the screen for the board of censors in the various cities, and if it measures up to standard, and contains no objectionable features, it is ready for public reproduction.

When all this is done, the printing machine again comes into play, and as many prints of the negative as are needed are struck off, for in cinematography, as in still photography, it is a simple matter to run off as many prints as are desired, once a good negative is made. These prints then are sent out to as many theatres, in as many different cities, as desire them, and released for public view on the same day in every theatre in the country.

Having looked at the motion-picture camera, and at the complicated process for developing and printing the films, we are now ready to climb into the little fireproof box from which comes the beam of light that throws the pictures on the screen. This is the projector and it is probably the most complicated of all the machines used in cinematography. As it was a development through the application of well-known mechanical principles we will not go into this subject more deeply than merely to understand its central principle, which is intermittent motion.

The result toward which the inventors worked was a magic lantern such as was familiar to every boy ten years ago, that would throw upon the screen the tiny consecutive pictures on the film, with such speed, and at the same time so clearly and steadily, that the effect would be that of figures in motion. Most boys will remember the flickering, flashing and jumping that used to be noticeable in motion pictures, and many are probably aware that it was the improvement of the projecting machine that did away with these objectionable features.

The essential parts of the projecting machine are the lantern with its light and lens, and the device for running the positive film before the light with the proper intermittent motion. It might be said generally that the projecting machine looks like a magic lantern, but on close examination it will be seen to be an extremely complicated affair.

The powerful electric light, usually an arc light, which is placed in a metal box a few inches behind the rest of the projector, directs its rays through the glass condensers, thence through the film, and thence through the lens, which throws the image upon the white screen or curtain. The condensers are made of two carefully ground glass parts. The first is dish shaped, with the concave side turned in toward the light and the convex side turned outward. Immediately against it is another condenser the same diameter and convex on both sides so that the collected rays from the dished part are shot forward to a point where they will all converge. This point is the centre of the lens. From the lens the rays of light are projected in a widening beam to the white screen on which the pictures appear.

The film is passed before the beam of light at a point between the condensers and the lens, so that the image is projected through the lens. The film is run before the light with the figures upside down, like in the ordinary stereopticon, and the lens turns the image right side up again.

The most interesting part of the solution of the problem is the advantage taken of the persistence of vision. Photographed at the rapid rate of sixteen a second, and thrown upon the screen at the same rate of sixteen a second, it is plain that the stage of motion shown in the pictures every sixteenth of a second is reproduced. With the inability of the eye to tell that the screen is merely exhibiting separate photographs, the appearance is of motion. In most persons this visual persistence is only about one twenty-fourth of a second, but that is long enough to allow animated photography to be a pleasing illusion to them, for it gives the shutter of the projector time to hide one picture while the mechanism moves the film down to the next picture, bring the film to a dead stop, and let the shutter open again to reveal the next stage of animation.