and longitudinal equilibrium, familiarizing himself with winds, and
adapting his motions to every sort of rocking. When he came down, and
the earth seemed to leap up at him, he noted the angle and swiftness of
the descent and found the right height at which to slow down. Although
his first efforts had been so clever that his monitors were convinced
for a long time that he had already been a pilot, yet it is not so much
his talent that we should admire as his determination. He was more
successful than others because he wore himself out during the whole of
his short life in trying to do better--to do better in order to serve
better. He worked more than any one else; when he was not satisfied with
himself he began all over again, and sought the cause of his errors.
There are many other pilots as gifted as Guynemer, but he possessed an
energy which was extraordinary, and in this respect excelled all the
rest.

And there were no limits to the exercise of this energy. He gave his own
body to complete so to speak, the airplane,--a centaur of the air. The
wind that whistled through his tension wires and canvas made his own
body vibrate like the piano wires. His body was so sensitive that it,
too, seemed to obey the rudder. Nothing that concerned his voyages was
either unknown or negligible to him. He verified all his
instruments--the map-holder, the compass, the altimeter, the tachometer,
the speedometer--with searching care. Before every flight he himself
made sure that his machine was in perfect condition. When it was brought
out of the hangar he looked it over as they look over race-horses, and
never forgot this task. How would it be when he should have his own
airplane?

At Pau he increased the number of his flights, and changed airplanes,
leaving the Blériot Gnome for the Morane. His altitudes at this time