Since the days of Dürer and Holbein, Germany has been barren in pictorial art. In all her applied arts, as well as in her graphic arts, she has followed a policy of skilful adaptation, borrowing and remoulding on more economic lines the best products of other countries.[2] On the one hand--in the years before the war--the sanest British methods of typography and book production were deliberately imported into Germany; on the other hand, the most freakish of cubist and vorticist paintings found in Germany their principal buyers. If any note was added to what she adapted, it was that of an additional violence--the open assertion of Germany's idea that "force is beauty." The war posters of Germany act as a mirror to German mentality. They dwell chiefly on one thing--force. Subjects and treatment are often crude and brutal, marked by a scorn and avoidance of human sympathy. Here and there we find a certain sensuous beauty, but, as a rule, they look on life with a coldness that is almost cynicism, an impassiveness that is nearer cruelty than pity. The remotest student could deduce a clear idea of the enormous gulf that lies between the national temperament of Germany and of France by a comparison of the posters of Engelhard, Leonard, and Erler with those of Steinlen, Faivre, Roll, Poulbot, and Willette. But when all that is said, one has to admit that the German, above all others, does grasp the essential value of the poster as a means to an end. He realises that in the best poster there must be something of what was aimed at in the Post-Impressionist movement in painting, a desire for summarised form, strong and simplified line, and the reduction of tones to an arbitrary convention. And though we have used the word "Post-Impressionism," we are only suggesting that the poster should accomplish what the stained-glass window at its best--with a religious instead of propagandist or commercial purpose--accomplished five hundred years ago. While the British poster must see everything in the round, must try to reproduce all that is intensely obvious in the varied texture and material pageantry and inexhaustible colouring of life, Germany is rightly content to be deliberately abstract, to seek the common factors from what is large and general, and to endeavour to find symbols to express ideas. She is not concerned with the pursuit of spiritual or physical beauty, but with a striking novelty or decorative composition. The colour schemes of the German posters are more curious and insistent than attractive, but they do possess that knock-down force which, after all, is the object of a poster. Its pictorial quality is a secondary matter; if it is a fine piece of wall decoration that one would like to live with, so much the better; but its function is to arrest and to make itself remembered. Indeed, the poster must be like a beacon set on a hill to which all eyes must go, all roads must seem inevitably to lead. The beacon is a flare in