The words of our inventory, “a form to sit upon, and a chair,” describe well the scanty furnishing of the rooms of a house at this period. The cause of this poverty in movables, which arose more from the general insecurity of property than the inability to procure it, is curiously illustrated by a passage from a letter of Margaret Paston to her husband, written early in the reign of Edward IV. “Also,” says the lady to her spouse, “if ye be at home this Christmas, it were well done ye should do purvey a garnish or twain of pewter vessel, two basins and two ewers, and twelve candlesticks, for ye have too few of any of these to serve this place; I am afraid to purvey much stuff in this place, till we be surer thereof.” As yet, a form or bench continued to be the usual seat, which could be occupied by several persons at once. One chair, as in the inventory just mentioned, was considered enough for a room, and was no doubt preserved for the person of most dignity, perhaps for the lady of the household. Towards the latter end of this period, however, chairs, made in a simpler form, and stools, the latter very commonly three-legged, became more abundant. Yet in a will dated so late as 1522 (printed in the “Bury Wills” of the Camden Society), an inhabitant of Bury in Suffolk, who seems to have possessed a large house and a considerable quantity of household furniture for the time, had, of tables and chairs, only “a tabyll of waynskott with to (_two_) joynyd trestelles, ij. joynyd stolys of the best, a gret joynyd cheyre at the deyse in the halle--the grettest close cheyre, ij. fote stoles--a rounde tabyll of waynskott with lok and key, the secunde joynyd cheyer, ij. joynyd stolys.” The ordinary forms of chairs and stools at the latter end of the fifteenth century are shown in our cut No. 244, taken from a very curious sculpture in alto-relievo on one of the columns of the Hôtel-de-Ville at Brussels. At this time we begin to find examples of chairs ingeniously constructed, for folding up or taking to pieces, so as to be easily laid aside or carried away. Some of these resemble exactly our modern camp-stools. A curious bedroom chair of this construction is represented in our cut No. 245, taken from a fine illuminated manuscript of the romance of the “Comte d’Artois,” of the fifteenth century, in the collection of M. Barrois of Paris, but now, I believe, in the library of lord Ashburnham. The construction of this chair is too evident to need explanation. It explains the phrase, used in some of our old writers, of unfolding a chair. [Illustration: _No. 244. Sculpture from the Hôtel-de-Ville, Brussels._] [Illustration: _No. 245. A Bedroom Chair._] [Illustration: _No. 246. A Chandelier._]