We have now arrived at that period in the history of the art and craft of cabinet designing and making when the names of leading members of their profession and trade became household words - for very often one man was proud to cultivate both, not deeming it beneath his dignity to stand at the bench and acquire a mastery over the tools and materials by which his ideas were to be carried out. I am inclined to think, nay, I am perfectly certain, that in this intimate practical knowledge, gained by actual experience, of the technicalities of the craft, is to be found the great secret of most of the success attained by the more prominent cabinet designers of the eighteenth century. Were such a state of things more prevalent to-day it would be far better for all concerned, but it is, unfortunately, the exception rather than the rule. There are several reasons for this falling-off, if I may so describe it. Let us briefly consider one or two of them.

In the first place, the average cabinet maker of the present day is so fully occupied with the technical side of his craft that he has but little time to study either historic styles or the principles of design. If he should by chance possess the ambition to do so, it must be accomplished at the sacrifice of both leisure and recreation; a sacrifice for which he is, more likely than not, sneered at by his shopmates and snubbed by his employers. It is painful to have to say this, but an intimate acquaintance with the inner working of many cabinet factories enables me to insist emphatically upon the truth of this assertion. There are some exceptions, of course, to the rule: factories in which art is considered almost as much as commercialism; but they are comparatively rare exceptions. Furthermore, the sub-division of labour, and the ever-growing introduction of improved tools, and specially of machinery of the time-and-labour-saving type, advantageous as they have been, and are, in very many ways, have been antagonistic to the development of the craftsman; tending rather to make a mere machine of the man himself - a simple "minder" of wheels, cogs, and levers - instead of training him to be an intelligent, thinking, and creative worker, who finds genuine pleasure in the pursuance of " the daily round, the common task," quite apart from the anticipation of Saturday's pay.

It is very rare in these times, though not impossible, to find a "shop" where any one workman completely carries through the construction of any "job" from start to finish, as was the custom many years ago. Nowadays, in nine-hundred-and-ninety-nine cases out of a thousand, every part that can possibly be cut and shaped by machinery - even to the very carving itself - is so cut and shaped, and all that remains is for the various component parts, arriving beautifully glass-papered and "clean" from the machine shop, to be fitted together and passed on to the polisher for the finishing touches. Let it be understood that I am not saying a single word against all this, but simply picturing what actually exists. What is one result of these modern methods of manufacture? In one sense they are undoubtedly beneficial. Through them those of us who are blessed with but a small share of worldly goods are enabled to become possessed of tastefully-designed, solid, and perfectly-constructed furniture, which, a hundred years ago, would only have been within the reach of the wealthy; thus our homes are made vastly the richer. This is one view of the case, and a most important one withal, which, however, is intentionally ignored by a certain school of critics, who are prone to indulge in a wholesale condemnation of machinery in any shape or form, and raise the cry of Ichabod! Ichabod! at the slightest mention of it. To any one possessing the faintest spark of intelligence it is plain that labour-saving methods and devices such as those referred to are really productive of more good to the community at large than it is possible to estimate.

There is, however, another aspect of the question to be regarded; and it is that which inspires the doleful wailings, even the maledictions, of the critics to whom I have alluded. The man who can do his daily work in the modern steam factory and take a delight in the labour of his hands - what little labour of the hands there is - defying the enervating, and, artistically speaking, debasing influences of the conditions by which he is governed, must be of a very rare breed indeed; while for the youngster who is placed there to learn thoroughly the craft in all its branches, or even in one branch alone, the case is practically hopeless. Thus we are between the proverbial "two stools." Much might be said, again, on the decline of the apprenticeship system, a decline inevitable with the development of existing conditions, which are responsible for so much; but I must not be tempted to enter upon the discussion of that subject.

So much for the changes that have come about in respect of manufacture. Now let me say a brief word or two on the question of the training of the designer. It will, of course, be contended that the nation spends tens of thousands of pounds in founding and supporting museums, libraries, and technical and art schools and classes, where the young craftsman may learn all he needs and at a nominal expense, if he be so disposed. Are not gold, silver, and bronze medals, and book prizes, awarded annually for the best works submitted in competition? What then? Let anyone who would note the outcome of all this expenditure in the direction of school and class founding, instruction, and prize-giving, pay a visit to the annual exhibitions of these competitive works held at the Royal School of Art, South Kensington, and there form his own judgment as to the net result. So far, at all events, as the designs for furniture and woodwork are concerned, the reports of the highly paid judges - eminent men, it is true, but rarely if ever including any bond fide representative of the craft, or, indeed, anyone who has made any mark at all in this particular branch of art - are almost invariably condemnatory; while in the eyes of the practical expert the display is always lamentably poor. It must be obvious, therefore, that there is something radically wrong some where; where the fault lies an examination of the systems of instruction specified by the Science and Art Department for adoption throughout the land will make perfectly clear. I need not say more here on this question than that one thing is absolutely certain, namely, the students are in no way to blame.