Temple Bar was an interesting archway which now adorns Theobald’s Park and is commemorated on its old site in Fleet Street by a melancholy monument. There seems a good case for the return of Temple Bar to some site in London. The neighbouring entrance to the Middle Temple is one of Wren’s most charming achievements. His use of brickwork here in conjunction with a stone base and pilasters is of an ideal modesty and simplicity, matched within the Temple by the cloister of Hare Court and rubbed brick doorways in King’s Bench Walk. Of these works as of Kensington Palace Coventry Patmore’s words were abundantly true: “Sir Christopher Wren could not build a common brick house without impressing his own character upon it.” He might have added that it needs a considerable artist to give character to a common brick house, for the palette is limited. Wren’s work at Kensington has been a good deal modified by later hands, but the Queen’s staircase and the Gallery remain very typical. The exterior suffers greatly from the clumsy additions of William Kent, which are too often accepted as part of the original house. The lay-out should be restored, and the great alcove be brought back from its present stupid position near the fountain. The Orangery is a masterpiece of simplicity and reserve, and shows Wren exercising the consummate taste which cannot in honesty be regarded as a continuous characteristic. The attribution of various houses to Wren rests either upon vague tradition or upon imaginary internal evidence. The belief that he designed Belton is persistent but unsupported by documents. The notable contributions made to its decoration by Grinling Gibbons may have strengthened the tradition. Certainly Belton is worthy of Wren. The same may be said of two houses in Chichester, Pallant House and another which has long been called Wren’s House. Miss Milman in her _Life_ printed a chronological list of works, and starred those for which there was no documentary authority. But her stars must be increased. The Chichester houses are cases in point. It is unfortunate that Marlborough House has been so mishandled since Wren’s day: the attic storey is a clumsy addition. As he planned it, the disposition of the rooms showed no advance on the planning of Inigo Jones and Webb. The main rooms were _en suite_ without any corridor behind them, a march of convenience which Vanbrugh developed at Blenheim, not otherwise a mirror of perfection. Sarah, Duchess, must have been a client calling for all Wren’s skill in handling people. When she quarrelled with Vanbrugh about his fees for Blenheim, she quoted Wren as a pattern of moderation “content to be dragged up in a basket, three or four times a week, to the top of St. Paul’s, and at great hazard, for £200 a year.”