eaning of the hieroglyphic,
one that has a fairly close relation to his way of thinking about the
primary form. From a proper balance of primary and secondary meanings
photoplays with souls could come. Not that he must needs become an expert
Egyptologist. Yet it would profit any photoplay man to study to think
like the Egyptians, the great picture-writing people. There is as much
reason for this course as for the Bible student's apprenticeship in
Hebrew.

Hieroglyphics can prove their worth, even without the help of an Egyptian
history. Humorous and startling analogies can be pointed out by opening
the Standard Dictionary, page fifty-nine. Look under the word _alphabet_.
There is the diagram of the evolution of inscriptions from the Egyptian
and Phoenician idea of what letters should be, on through the Greek and
Roman systems.

In the Egyptian row is the picture of a throne, [Illustration] that has
its equivalent in the Roman letter C. And a throne has as much place in
what might be called the moving-picture alphabet as the letter C has in
ours. There are sometimes three thrones in this small town of Springfield
in an evening. When you see one flashed on the screen, you know instantly
you are dealing with royalty or its implications. The last one I saw that
made any particular impression was when Mary Pickford acted in Such a
Little Queen. I only wished then that she had a more convincing throne.
Let us cut one out of black cardboard. Turning the cardboard over to
write on it the spirit-meaning, we inscribe some such phrase as The
Throne of Wisdom or The Throne of Liberty.

Here is the hieroglyphic of a hand: [Illustration] Roman equivalent, the
letter D. The human hand, magnified till it is as big as the whole
screen, is as useful in the moving picture alphabet as the letter D in
the printed alphabet. This hand may open a lock. It may pour poison in a
bottle. It may work a telegraph key. Then turning the white side of the
cardboard uppermost we inscribe something to the effect that this hand
may write on the wall, as at the feast of Belshazzar. Or it may represent
some such conception as Rodin's Hand of God, discussed in the
Sculpture-in-motion chapter.

Here is a duck: [Illustration] Roman equivalent, the letter Z. In the
motion pictures this bird, a somewhat z-shaped animal, suggests the
finality of Arcadian peace. It is the last and fittest ornament of the
mill-pond. Nothing very terrible can happen with a duck