But where does liberty end and license begin? At what point does free speech change into unlawful utterances? How many, and how drastic, should be our sumptuary laws? Where lies the golden mean between ultra-socialistic paternalism and that extreme of individualism for which the anarchists strive? These queries, all of which exercise a disquieting influence upon our national life, are of the same class to which the problem now confronting the producers of photoplays belongs. That the screen must repent and reform, must see to it that its maturity is less censurable than its youth, is a proposition accepted by both the producers and the public. But where shall the scenario-writer draw the line in his effort to make the second quarter-century of the movie less reprehensible than its first? It is a question hard to answer, but there is one illuminating fact that is gradually having its influence upon the output of the studios, namely, that a clean and decent photoplay is more likely to become a financial success than one which appeals to the baser passions of the public. In this regard, history is but repeating itself. The most successful American plays, from the box-office standpoint, have been, for several generations past, those which eschewed the licentious and the immoral. And, by the same token, it is safe to predict that the movie fans of this country will continue to prefer Douglas Fairbanks in “Robin Hood” to Nazimova in Oscar Wilde’s “Salome.” Leaving ethics wholly out of the discussion, and placing the problem strictly upon a business and financial basis, there seems to be overwhelming evidence to the effect that an investment in clean pictures is safer than in soiled.