Adelphi Terrace, Adam Street to the east, and John Street, which is parallel with the terrace and the Strand, and in between, still retain much of their old-world appearance. But at the western side of the Adelphi changes are afoot. There is a new building, facing the river, but stunted and barred from its proper height by that bugbear of the modern builder, "ancient lights." Then, again, the Caledonian Hotel, in Robert Street, has taken to itself a new storey, and has been transmogrified into modern flats with--oh, shade of Adam!--bath-rooms. The searcher after the picturesque in London architecture might do worse than descend from the Strand, past the Tivoli. He will then be on the site of one of the gateways of Old Durham House, and, turning to the right, he will see a bridge of beautiful design. It was built, in order to connect the Strand and Adelphi premises of the bank, by Thomas Coutts, who procured a special Act of Parliament for the purpose. The entire Adelphi estate occupies a little over three acres and a quarter, divided as follows:-- Superficial feet. Houses (only) 78,400 Roadways, terrace, and areas 45,400 Foreground 19,200 -------- 143,000 The names of two more noted inhabitants of the Adelphi have to be included in this "History." The learned Vicesimus Knox (1752-1821), who is best known to fame as the compiler of "Elegant Extracts" (1789), lived at No. 1, Adam Street. The first floor of the same house was the place of retirement, for a score of years, of George Blamire, barrister-at-law, "of very eccentric habits, but sound mind." John Timbs, in his "Curiosities of London," states that "no person was allowed to enter his chamber, his meals and all communications being left by his housekeeper at the door of his ante-room. He was found dead in an arm-chair, in which he had been accustomed to sleep for twenty years. He died of exhaustion, from low fever and neglect; at which time his rooms were filled with furniture, books, plate, paintings, and other valuable property." The eccentric habits are evident; but the "sound mind" is a little doubtful. Finally, I may state that I have followed the fortunes of my book, and, after a brief excursion into the noisy part of the world on the other side of Charing Cross, have returned to the quiet and comparative solitude of the Adelphi, where tubes do not trouble and motor buses do not annoy. "Sir," said Dr. Johnson, "when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life." And I think that there is no part of London of which a man can be in less apprehension of tiring than the Adelphi. It is of London, yet away from it; in the heart of the world, yet secluded. To know it is to love it. Austin Brereton. _September, 1908._ FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 1: See page 212.]