It seems almost to be the destiny of London monuments to be pulled down with indignity, and perhaps sold to some one in the country to ornament their mansions. The stones of Temple Bar, after lying in a yard for some ten years, were bought by Sir H. Meux, and transported to his place, “Theobalds,” near to Waltham Cross, where it has been re-erected as a gateway to the avenue. The stones were numbered, but the rains washed off all the paint, so the architect had a difficult puzzle to fit them together. It is said to have a very imposing and satisfactory effect. But a place might have been found for it in town. The old railings in front of St. Paul’s were sold to some one in America. Mr. Sala, who has much curious lore of this kind, discovered that the stones of old London Bridge were carried off to build a house in Kent, and that the fittings of the Star Chamber now decorate a dining-room in Sir Edward Cust’s house; while the grand staircase of Northumberland House does duty in a mansion at South Kensington. Mr. Sala knows of a house not far from Leighton Buzzard, where the chimney-piece of the Rubens-House at Antwerp is fixed; and Mr. Barnum informed him that he “was in treaty” for the old timber of the Traitor’s Gate at the Tower. Perhaps some disposition of this kind might, after all, be the best fate for the old stones of the Burlington colonnade, now lying derelict at Battersea. * * * * * Returning to the Law Courts, it may not be remembered what a story of embarrassment and trouble and heated controversy is associated with the building. It began with the competition of designs, which went on for years. A plan was accepted, then set aside. When we find fault with the general failure of the interior arrangements, it should, in fairness, be borne in mind that the architect was cruelly hampered, checked and interfered with. At the time the hard, unsympathetic Ayrton was in office, who seems to have pursued the same course that he did in the case of the unhappy Alfred Steevens, the sculptor. To insure some miserable savings in the outlay, he appears to have insisted systematically on paring away everything that could not be justified by the strictest utility. Towers were shortened, ornament of all kind was suppressed--and above all, he insisted with Procrustean severity, on almost impossible accommodation being provided, which had to be furnished to the sacrifice of light, air and room. Hence the darkened, stifling chambers, narrow passages, and tortuous communications. This was indeed being “penny wise and pound foolish.” It is perhaps forgotten that nearly the whole structure was erected by foreign workmen--Germans principally--who were imported at the time of a great building strike, and lived in the inclosure. At the termination of the strike they continued in their employment.