here out of France.

After the fall of the Empire, all pretence of style was in abeyance,
and it was then gradually replaced by a general craving for the
"antique," the "rococo," and finally the "baroc," as the outcome of
that part of a gentleman's education called the "grand tour." Every
one bought up old furniture; Italy and Spain were ransacked; and
foreign works of all ages were added to the hereditary house
furnishings. Every wealthy home became a museum. Now the numerous
exhibitions of the last few years, bringing together the works of all
Europe and other continents, have enabled us to continue to collect
and compare and furnish, without any reference to a particular style.

Meantime "Young England" had become aesthetic. Bohemianism was the
fashion, and the studio had to be furnished as a picturesque
lounge:--ragged tapestries for backgrounds; antique chairs and bits of
colour as cushions and draperies; shiny earthenware pots to hold a
flower and to catch a high light. All these bridged the space between
the new aestheticism and the old family museums; and from their
combination arose the style called by courtesy the "Queen Anne"--a
style which can be brought within the reach of the most moderate
fortunes. In humble mansions you will be aware of the grouping of the
old pieces of furniture, culminating perhaps in "my grandmother's
cabinet," and her portrait by Hogarth; or "my great-grandfather's
sword and pistols, which he carried at Culloden;" and his father's
clock, a relic perhaps of the Scotch Dutch.

The English style of to-day is really a conglomerate of the preceding
two hundred years, and it is formed from the debris of our family
life. It belongs mostly to the period of the pigtail; but it
stretches back, and includes all that followed the Protectorate, and
is therefore coeval with the wig. The name of "Queen Anne" would
really do as well as any other, only that the style of her reign,
which was heavy Louis Quatorze, is looked upon with suspicion, and
never admitted for imitation. The "Nineteenth Century" would be a
better name, for it has formed itself only within the last thirty
years, in the very heart of the century, and is, in fact, a fortunate
result of preceding conditions. It owes its existence, as I have said,
partly to the archaeological tendencies of the day.

The maimed tables and chairs, which had painfully ascended from saloon
to bedroom, nursery, and attic, till they reposed in the garr