There is nothing to explain the favour shown by the Marquise de Pompadour to the master of Riesener, and second rank alone would be accorded to him if the inventory of the workshops of Jean Francois Oeben did not happen to reveal his share in the completion of what was perhaps the most remarkable piece of furniture produced in the eighteenth century, the so-called Grand Bureau du Rot. Exactly what part was done by young Riesener, and what by Oeben himself, as well as by the excellent sculptors who collaborated with them, Duplessis, Winant, and Hervieux, can never now be determined. That Riesener's work was very important must, however, be admitted, for the widow of the master married the pupil in 1767, whilst the bureau begun in 1760 was not delivered until 1769, when it bore the signature of Riesener only.

The artist repeated this great work - which a few years ago passed into the Louvre Collection - no less than four times. A mere cursory glance at it is enough for recognition of its simple grace of outline and the beauty of its decorative bronzes, which culminate at the upper angles in two recumbent nymphs holding up girandoles, whilst in the centre is a fine clock framed in a wealth of flowers above which are two sportive Cupids. The marqueterie representing various emblems is worthy of the rest of the design, and inside the woodwork is a clever mechanical contrivance for making all the drawers come out at once. It may indeed be said that this masterpiece of the cabinet-maker is more perfect and more thoroughly French in taste, in spite of the German origin of its two chief creators, than anything of the kind ever produced. It is typical of the transitional moment when craftsmen were still enjoying the heritage bequeathed by the masters of the Louis XIV. period, and the enthusiasm of the exponents of the Rocaille craze was beginning to be tempered by the wisdom that came from the study of the antique.

SMALL DESK. By Weisweiler. Louis XVI Epoch.

Plate LV. SMALL DESK. By Weisweiler. Louis XVI Epoch.

EMPIRE ARMCHAIR. Palace of Fontainebleau.

Plate LVI. EMPIRE ARMCHAIR. Palace of Fontainebleau.

The Grand Bureau du Roi must not, however, be looked upon as an example of the new departure. The first work signed by Riesener unmistakably betrays his faithfulness to the traditions of Cressentand Jacques Caffieri, which he was, however, very soon to abandon, for the style patronised by Madame du Barry. In 1777, as proved by a cylindrical bureau in the Mobilier National, he aimedmerely at simple yet accurate grace of line - that is to say, with him the groping after a combination of the antique with the style of Oeben lasted only long enough for him to produce a beautiful table at Trianon, with the symbols of geography and astronomy in marqueterie, his indecision being revealed only in the over-ornate foliage finishing off the fluted and too slender supports. From that time until his death in 1806 he never faltered in his chosen path which Marie Antoinette and the people of France continued to prefer long after the fall of the favourite who had been his patron so long. He was able to lay aside the burin of the chaser that he could wield so skilfully, to devote himself entirely to the humbler work of the ebenist, in which he was equally able to excel, supplying the Court with quantities of costly furniture, and less wealthy purchasers with works of comparatively little cost, but highly valued on account of their unique grace of form.

This, of course, led to his having many imitators, so that it is often difficult to know whether to attribute to the master certain pieces not bearing his mark; the exact resemblance between the decorative metal-work of signed and anonymous furniture is not sufficient proof of authorship, for, as is well known, ebenists often bought metal ornaments already chased after the designs of such masters as Duplessis, to add to the furniture they had made. Riesener himself certainly sometimes did this even for costly pieces of work.

CHEST OF DRAWERS. First Empire. Garde Meuble National, Paris.

Plate LVII. CHEST OF DRAWERS. First Empire. Garde Meuble National, Paris.

We cannot undertake to enumerate, still less to describe, his uncontested work, but we may add that he often adopted the chess-board style of marqueterie, the squares being filled in with rose-tracery, and that he combined mahogany with Sevres porcelain. During the Revolution he produced such works as the Tricoteuse de la Reine, belonging to the Comte de Camondo, the slender grace of which was already prophetic of the Empire. He never foresaw the overthrow of society, nor did he understand it when it came - he wanted to keep in his workshop the costly pieces of furniture he still retained when the monarchy was overthrown, and even bought back some of his own work at the sales of the Royal effects, always hoping that the good old times would return. His fortune, which during the ten years of his prosperity had risen to a million, dwindled away, and he - whose first masterpiece had been welcomed with acclamation throughout France at the depraved and effeminate time when the youthful Countess du Barry, with her little negro Zamor and the canary Fifi, was beginning her reign - died in comparative poverty the year of the Battle of Jena.

What we have said about Riesener borrowing copper ornaments of which he was not the author, to decorate his furniture, ought not really to detract from his merit. Collaboration between artists was a constant practice in all the best periods of French furniture - indeed, we may even say that it was the cause of their grandeur. It is a great mistake on the part of modern artists, and one much to be regretted, to suppose that working together diminishes the glory of each individual. The result is most good designers restrict themselves to the production of paintings, statues, plans of houses, etc, and look upon it almost as a disgrace to work side by side with some clever ebenist or expert chaser, to whom they will accord no rank but that of a craftsman. As long as artists hold out for this senseless idea of an aristocracy of art, the public will have to be content with reproductions of old styles or characterless innovations, and if this vanity, like all other feelings of the kind, is the result of ignorance of history and of the principles that govern it, books such as this one may serve a further purpose than merely to guide those interested in their subjects.