The whole difference between the British and the French outlook is summed up in Jules Abel Faivre's poster for the _Journée Nationale des Tuberculeux_, with the poignant appeal of the figure in its luminous envelopment of sea and sky. There is no need for any vandal to write his descriptive note across the face of this to drive its message home. The sad tale is told at a glance; and its brief legend--"Sauvons-les" (Let us save them)--is not necessary to make the meaning clear, but rather it delivers an additional message--a note of resolution and purpose--to the awakened sympathy when the picture has done its work. Here everything necessary is said: not a superfluous touch to mar its purpose, nor a touch too little. Yet an English advertiser would never have been content with those two comforting hands which pathetically suggest so much. The suggestion to him would have been totally inadequate, and he would have insisted on a full-length nurse in uniform, or a hospital ward, and medicine bottles, and all sorts of needless detail. In the earliest months of the War France was perhaps too heavily shocked by the onslaught, and too busily engaged in material organisation, to give much attention to the subject of posters. But for the _Journée du Poilu_ at Christmas-time, 1915 Steinlen, Faivre, Neumon, Poulbot, and Willette contributed designs which immediately set upon French war posters the stamp of genuine understanding of the purpose in view and appreciation of the material at disposal. So, through a long series of War Loan posters, "Flag-day" appeals, and posters relating to every phase of life where advertisement could be a valuable thing till the welcome end was reached, French artists produced an incomparable variety of brilliant designs, in which gaiety, pathos, humour, and tragedy were touched with a characteristic lightness of hand, and often touched with true greatness of conception.