¶ But to single out stamps here and there does not do full justice to this theme—the myriad perfection of air mail stamps as a pictorial record of a great triumph must be viewed in a more methodical manner, and more broadly, as a grand mural of many events. ¶ Beginning with the fabulous flight of Daedalus and his son Icarus, on wings made of wax and feathers, we can follow the story of aviation on air mail stamps. We see the Roman philosopher, Virgil, on an Italian adhesive, gazing at a gliding eagle and remarking prophetically, “I assign limits neither to the extent nor the duration of the empire.” ¶ Even Leonardo Da Vinci, while creating paintings of undying fame, must have spent many an hour musing on the possibilities of flight by artificial means. His ideas were so detailed that he drew a plan of a glider which, although never constructed in wood and fabric, embodies several fundamental features of aero-dynamics. ¶ The progress of aviation was rutted in this theoretical stage, however, for hundreds of years. Many problems, some of them still unthought of, had to be overcome before controlled flight was a reality. ¶ Ballooning, of course, had developed steadily after the epochal success of the Montgolfier brothers in 1783. In the latter part of the nineteenth century, Alberto Santos-Dumont began experimenting with dirigibles. His early attempts were made with non-rigid balloons, and we can see one of this Brazilian’s ships circling the Eiffel Tower of Paris, on a stamp issued by his native land. ¶ The event pictured took place on October 19, 1901, before a group of officials of the French Aero Club who were there to award a prize of 100,000 francs if Santos-Dumont could successfully fly from the Aero Club Park to the Eiffel Tower and return. Several previous attempts had resulted in failure, but this day the craft made the first lap of the journey without mishap. ¶ At a fairly high altitude the balloon rounded the tower at its very tip, but as soon as the nose pointed homeward, a strong wind struck it, slowing the motor to such an extent that it almost stopped. For the moment Santos-Dumont was between the devil and the deep blue sea. If he loosened his control from the steering lever to adjust the carburetor, the balloon might swing wild. But the fates were kind that day—his ship sailed on as he tinkered with the spark and brought his sputtering motor back to a healthy roar. ¶ On he sailed, over the Bois, then over the throngs at the Auteuil race-track while precious minutes were ticking on. He had to complete the voyage in a half hour and only a few moments remained of this allotted time.