As I have already indicated, early in the eighteenth century the names of certain cabinet makers became prominent among their fellows, and they have been handed down to posterity. There is one which, by common consent - whether rightly or wrongly we shall presently see - is singled out pre-eminently from the rest, and that is the name of Thomas Chippendale. It is constantly on the lips of all who pose - I say "pose " advisedly - as authorities on old furniture; to them, indeed, it is a veritable "shibboleth"; and from the awesome respect paid to it by that section of the community who acquire their knowledge of such matters from the "Phyllises," "Angelines," and other fair mentors on household art who add such a charm to the pages of some of the ladies' papers, anyone ignorant of the subject would conclude that Chippendale was by far the most highly-endowed designer and cabinet maker of his age. He was nothing of the kind; and no one can claim with any measure of justification that he was. Why is it, then, that his name is so revered, and so frequently dinned into our ears? It is difficult to say exactly, but there are one or two reasons that may be put forward in answer to that query.

Chippendale, for one thing, was chief among the first to break away determinedly from traditions which had been held in veneration for very many years; furthermore, he practically originated a new style, or perhaps it would be more correct to say a series of styles, new to this country, for his work was many sided.

Of the early life of Chippendale few, if any, particulars are available, and we know little or nothing of the opening years of his business career. But that he was not long in "making a name," and, moreover, in winning commercial success, we do know; for we find him, at a comparatively early age, occupying extensive premises in a quarter of London which was then most fashionable, viz.: - Saint Martin's Lane. (The only remaining portion of these premises, by the way, has only recently come into the hands of the " housebreaker.") He enjoyed the distinguished patronage of the royalty and nobility of his time; in fact, it would seem that the belles and beaux of the courts of the early Georges came to regard the establishment of this famous old " upholder " as a convenient rendezvous where, whether they were in search of furniture or not, they might congregate together and discuss matters of moment, or the tittle-tattle of the day - the fall of Walpole; the "chances" at Culloden; the resignation of Pitt; the king's madness; the outbursts of Lord George Gordon; or, more probably still, the latest escapade of the Duchess of X------, Y------, or Z------. We can picture the dandies of the period, bewigged and bepowdered, vying with one another to win a smile, or the tap of a fan, from the reigning beauties in their paint and patches, by the relation of the latest choice bit of scandal from the coffee-house. How the brilliant colouring of their silks, satins, and velvets must have "set off" the rich mahogany environment of "Louis-Quinze," "Chinese," "Gothick," and "Ribbon-Back" creations placed there to tempt their patronage. And, to complete the picture, there was the crowd of chair-men, patiently waiting with their gaily-bedizened chairs at the doors, to solicit favours or receive orders. There can be little doubt that many a time a visit to Chippendale was made to serve as an excuse for a morning gossip; and it can well be surmised that the prototypes of not a few of the characters in "The School for Scandal " were personally well known to this fashionable old tradesman. But I must not be tempted to draw upon imagination, enticing as it is to do so when dealing with a period so filled with romantic memories. Plain facts await our attention, and it is with facts that it is our first duty to deal here.

Before proceeding further, let me insist that the fact that Chippendale may be regarded as the pioneer, or, at any rate, as the chief among the pioneers of the movement which eventually resulted in the evolution of our late eighteenth-century furniture - which commanded the unrestrained admiration of the whole of the civilised world - furnishes no justification whatever for the all too common practice of lauding him, and his work " to the skies."

It is very common to meet people - I personally have met them - supposed to have a knowledge of the history of furniture instructing art classes (they are or have been on boards of examiners appointed by our National Science and Art Department, and "on the press" their name is "Legion!") who regard as "Chippendale" everything designed or manufactured in this country during the period that elapsed between the years 1750 and 1800. And, the worst of it is, they make a point of posing as guides and counsellers in this branch of study, when all the time they ought, themselves, to be reading up the subject.

Not only has the name "Chippendale" fallen into common use as applied to styles with which it has nothing whatever to do, but, through being frequently employed in the trade to indicate a certain depth of colour in mahogany - a depth of colour for which age is solely responsible, and which was never looked for by the old maker whose name is so constantly taken in vain - it has been taken up by writers who do not understand the why and wherefore of its application, and is vaguely used in such a manner as to convey the impression that it really refers to a special species of wood. Whether that wood was planted, grown, or discovered by our long-suffering cabinet maker is not divulged. In order to show that I am not attempting to indulge in cheap humour, I may mention an actual case of such misunderstanding which recently came within my experience. A lady of no ordinary culture was puzzled, on reading in one of the penny weekly magazines that a certain article of furniture, of which a sketch was given, should be "made in 'Chippendale.'" She came to me to ask if I could tell her what wood "Chippendale" was!