Not long ago the public was invited to take farewell of a great merchant’s mansion, declared positively to be the last-surviving specimen of the kind. Vast crowds came accordingly, and visited every portion of this interesting old place, which however was not so imposing or effective as the old destroyed house in Leadenhall Street. I went with the rest. It was situated in the interesting Austin Friars, where you enter from the street under an arch and find yourself in the grounds and inclosure of the old Augustine monastery, now covered with houses, but still laid out in curious winding passages, and not unpicturesque. On the right is the old Dutch Church. “With difficulty,” says an explorer, “we find the old house, which is like a manor house--No. 21--having its steps and garden--waste enough. It could be traced on maps, and had a regular pedigree, from its first possessor, Olmius, a Dutch merchant, in King William’s time, from whom it passed to the French family of Tierrenoult, from them to the Minets--eminent bankers in the days of the First French Empire--and from them to Thomas Le Marchant, whose descendant held it as representative of the firm of Thomas, Son, and Lefevre. From these last holders the present owner, Mr. John Fleming, acquired the property.” It is described as “a large red-brick structure, lined throughout with quaintly carved panels and wainscoting, and its many rooms are capacious, lofty, and comfortable. Entering the old hall through a fine doorway, the merchant’s counting-house is seen to the right, and his morning room and many remains of ware rooms to the left. Below this are capacious cellars, containing mysterious hiding places, and a remarkable vaulted strong room with an iron door. Here, too, was an old stone well, the water of which was used by the present owner until he discovered that there were some human bones at the bottom of it. In the vaulted kitchen there is a veritable old Dutch oven, faced with fantastic blue tiles, representing courtiers caracoling on fat Flanders mares, and the figures alternate with illustrations of tulips and tiger-lilies. Outside are the old red-tiled stables, and brew-house with gabled roof; and these look on part of the Garden of the Mendicants, still containing a gnarled old fig-tree that has at spasmodic intervals borne fruit, but ends its life next week. Returning to the hall we mount a broad staircase with large twisted balustrades and rails, every step of which is ornamented with intricate floral decoration. The panelling was of a rather meagre kind, with small mouldings up a narrow stair, and getting on to the red-tiled roof, with a stone parapet surrounding it, we can see what may be called the scheme of this extraordinary old property. The house is surrounded by other old buildings--all alike sentenced to destruction next Monday morning--and scraps of gardens, and over the way we see the huge modern buildings that now stand on the site of the Drapers’ Gardens, which