Just at the appointed hour for Kircher’s show, a few distinguished monsignori, in flowing purple were driven to the entrance in their carriages with mounted escort. Perhaps, too, a hush went through the small group, assembled in an upper hall, when a Prince of the Church, such as Cardinal Barberini who had summoned Kircher to Rome a decade before, came to see for himself. After all the monsignori and other visitors had been greeted with ceremony and salutation in keeping with their rank, the candles and lamps were extinguished; Kircher slipped behind a curtain or partition where his projector was concealed and the first light and shadow screen show was on. For a moment Kircher’s audience could see nothing. Then slowly their eyes became accustomed to the darkness and a faint light appeared on a white surface set up in front of the few rows of seats. As the flames in Kircher’s lantern began to burn more brightly and he adjusted the crude projection system, the picture of his first glass slide was thrown upon the screen. The young men with keen eyesight were the first to note that the light and shadow on the screen, like some ghostly figment, began to take form into a recognizable picture. Then the older ecclesiastics saw or thought they saw. The incredulous murmured prayerful ejaculations. The wonder increased as successive pictures were projected. Kircher was enough of a showman to use pictures which would entertain and amaze. He included animal drawings, artistic designs and, to taunt those who thought he was dabbling in necromancy, pictures of the devil. Prudence was not one of his “hundred arts.” We may be amused now at the disbelief of Kircher’s first audience. But by trying to place ourselves in that hall of the Roman College, three centuries ago, it is easy to realize the difficulties. Nothing like Kircher’s show had ever been presented before. He had chained light and shadow, but the suspicion was held by some of the spectators that there was dark magic about it all and that Kircher had dabbled in the “black arts.” The first audience congratulated Kircher at the end of the performance, but some went away wondering, dubious. Years later, Kircher wrote in his autobiography, “New accusations piled up and my critics said I should devote my whole life to developing mathematics.” * * * * * Two and a half centuries later, the screen art of magic shadow projection came to life in the motion picture. This was quite a different premiere. But Kircher would have recognized the device as an improvement on and development of his magic lantern. He, and hundreds who came after him, had tried to capture the animation of life in light and shadow pictures. Full success was not possible until a later date because the necessary materials were not available until near the end of the nineteenth century.