THE CENTURY MAGAZINE
all go” is given, the air-ship will scarcely more than hold its equilibrium in the air at the four or five foot of altitude to which it will have been lifted by M. Santos-Dumont’s aids. At most it will rise very slowly and to no great height. To the lifting-power of the balloon, however, must be added the sixty-six pounds ascensional effort developed by the air-ship’s two-bladed propeller. This propeller, which describes a circle of thirteen feet in diameter, is driven by a new twenty horse-power, four-cylinder petroleum motor with water-refrigerator. Now more than ever dependent on propeller-force for mounting into the air that will be barely heavier than itself, the “Santos-Dumont No. 6” can no longer be described, with any propriety, as being “lighter than the air,” although it, is not “heavier than the air.” In truth, it has important aëroplane featares, plus always the precious ability to shoot up into the air, should need be, when lightened of a proper quantity of ballast. This must be what Mr. Alexander Graham Bell means when he says, “Just so far as M, Santos-Dumont has abandoned the ‘lighter than the air’ theory, just so far has he approached success. . . . Never before has there been an aërial ship with a balloon so small and a motor so powerful.”
Note on Zurbaran's "Saint Ellzabeth
of Hungary.”
(SEE FRONTISPIECE.)
FRANCISCO DE ZURBARAN, born at Fuente de Cantos, Estremadura, Spain, in 1598, was contemporary with Velasquez by whom he was summoned to the court at Madrid in 1650, where he there-after labored, and died in 1662. He painted mostly religious subjects, among which were many female saints, the originals supposed to be the reigning beauties of the time. We are indebted to Claude Phillips, Esq., keeper of the Wallace collection at London, for having pointed out the present beautiful example of the painter's work, and to its owner, the Right Honorable A, EL Smith-Barry of London, for the privilege of engraving it.
The saint is here shown in her character of patron of the poor and distressed. In her out-stretched hand she holds a coin, while beneath is a group of poor folk supplicating relief. The figure is life-size; the canvas measures thirty-eight inches wide by forty-five inches high. It is a fine, soft, warm glow of color. The background curtain, which drops over a dark landscape heavy with clouds, is a rich, soft, deep shade of maroon, hose high lights are yellow of salmon flush, harmonious and beautiful. Against this tone the figure is relieved with softness and charm. It is clad in a sumptuous dress, the waist of which is a lovely soft, warm shade of blue, keyed almost to the verge of green, exquisite in its tender melting quality, and harmonizing delightfully with the rich gold embroideries, and the creamy lace about the bosom, that floats into the warm, rich tones of the luminous and even flesh. Were it not for the blue, the picture might be too warm, but it is this delightful note of color that gives to the whole such a charm. The flounces of the sleeves, which form so important a feature in the costume, are white, but grayed to a tone lower than the mass of the light on the flesh, with touches of black velvet between the flounces. Though this is stylish and very effective, it is not turbulent, and owing to its discreet management in its subordination to the head, it does not clash in the least with the relief and expression of that part; for the head receives the highest light, and framed as it is between its wealth of dark tresses,—which, next to the touches of dark velvet, are the strongest notes of color in the picture,—the eye naturally goes to the face. The rich dark hair is of a frizzy texture, which, on close inspection, reveals an extraordinary number of little ringlets that were impossible to engrave. I could only show its soft character and volume, as one would see it without too closely scrutinizing.
There is great breadth of treatment as well as delicacy of finish to this work, and the drawing is charming. Zurbaran has been styled “the Spanish Caravaggio” from his resemblance to the Italian in his broad handling, strong contrasts of light and shade, and tho easy, natural grace of the attitudes of his figures.
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Wiseacreage.
TO one must have an intense sense of the humorous, and a humorous sense of the intense.
It is the tiny flaw that makes perfection flawless.
SOME smiles look as if they had been done up in curl-papers overnight.
AT times there is nothing so unnatural as nature.
HAPPINESS is the ability to recognize it.
