From The Spectator, 21 November 1914:
If nations obtain the Governments that they deserve, it may be hoped that they do not always deserve their postage-stamps. If that were so, we should be a less deserving nation than we were in the twenty or thirty years which followed the introduction of “adhesive labels” in 1840, when we had some of the finest stamps that have ever been issued. The black penny, the red penny, and, above all, the blue twopenny stamps of 1840 to 1880 have never been surpassed for strength of colour and simplicity of design. When 1880 brought the brick-red penny, and 1881 began a pale procession of lilacs and greens, surely England fell far. When in 1911 the first issue to bear the head of King George saw the light in English post-offices, and was eagerly bought by collectors, who wanted to see what the chosen artist and printers could do for a nation whose King is a philatelist, we possessed what is probably the worst series of stamps ever printed. We are rather better off now, but if the current of our national being is to be judged by the shades of our inks, British blood runs discouragingly thin.
It might be possible, though it would lead to no conclusive argument, to trace some kind of connexion between the designs of postage-stamps and the national aspirations of the countries which made use of them. British ideals, judged by this standard, would seem to be simple enough, at all events in years gone by, when we were content with a head and a plain statement of value. Can we trace any conflict of ideals between the designs adopted by other nations— between those of France, say, and Germany & France since the establishment of the Republic in 1870 has been uniformly and consistently pacific. Her issues of 1870-6 show Peace and Commerce joining bands across the inhabited globe. When she changes the design in 1900 it is to a figure of Liberty bolding a tablet inscribed “Droite de l’homme.” Three years later she takes as her ideal figure a girl sowing—sera ineesaupatet dea; her goddess is agriculture. Her neighbour’s ideals are different. In 1900, which is the year of the great naval programme, Germany sets for the first time on her stamps a goddess in full armour, mailed and crowned, her hand on the hilt of the sword. Bellona still franks the envelopes that leave the Prussian frontier. German colonies receive a new stamp in the same great year. For the first time the Cameroons and Togoland behold the future of the Empire—a white liner riding up to the horizon. “The future of Germany is on the water.”
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