in the construction of “Durdans,” the prototype of the existing Surrey residence of Lord Rosebery. The fate of the Holbein Gateway, which once adorned Whitehall, was to be dismembered by order of the hero of Culloden, the idea being that it should be re-erected in the Great Park at Windsor. This was never done, though Thomas Sandby drew up a scheme at the time; and with the exception of a few fragments, this most interesting relic of Tudor architecture only survives in illustrations and models. A better destiny was in store for a later structure which outlived the esteem of the authorities, namely Temple Bar. That this work by Sir Christopher Wren should have been removed from Fleet Street was essential, no doubt, through the press of traffic which had arisen; but it is astonishing that the stones should have been permitted to lie about in the Farringdon Road for some years until rescued and re-erected at Theobald’s Park by Sir Henry Meux. The City Corporation struck a medal to commemorate the demolition in 1878, but it may be hoped that some day another one may be issued simultaneously with the restoration to London of this unique relic. Such examples of vandalism could be multiplied indefinitely; and when buildings destroyed by other means, such as fire, are added to the list, it is a matter for congratulation that so many remains of architectural design and craftsmanship are available for study in something approaching their original state. Two main features contribute to the chequered existence of historic buildings. The first is restoration, which includes alterations and additions, and the second is decay, the variety which renders a house uninhabitable as well as obsolete. In the former case the old work has often been utterly spoiled by drastic measures of reconstruction or by good-intentioned but fatal efforts to repair and beautify: in the latter case the building gradually goes to pieces until it becomes a ruin, splendid still perhaps in its suggestion of other days, but becoming year by year a monument needing continual attention if it is to survive. We are then immersed in the depths of antiquarian lore, and the problems of archaeology which arise are only equalled by the diversity of methods brought forward for keeping the object intact. Conservation is a science as well as an art, but even so it is difficult to obtain unanimity of opinion from experts when work is contemplated. The case of Stonehenge may be mentioned, although it is beyond our field. Century by century this imposing group of stones has suffered, and different generations of engineers as well as architects, individually or as societies, have made suggestions for its maintenance and partial reconstruction. Yet in spite of great care it is always in jeopardy, partly because it is private property. At the time of writing this relic of Druid architecture is for sale, and if it could be made the national monument it deserves to be,