6 



year l641 it already was in rather a decrepit condition. There 

 was a roof missing : — 



' And thus agreed we went to see the hall, 

 Which had no tiles to cover it at all.' 



That shows that the Stuarts — perhaps the Stuarts can hardly be 

 blamed at that time of crisis — were not so careful of that interest- 

 ing Palace as they ought to have been, even at the time when 

 they held their dominion in this country. Of course, that makes 

 me shed a silent tear over the project which I have so constantly 

 tried to hold forward of the restoration of Linlithgow Palace on 

 the occasion of every national commemoration, which seems as 

 remote as ever at the time at which we are speaking. Then 

 there is also in this volume another chapter which is to me of 

 singular interest. I mean the Will of the ill-fated daughter of 

 Charles Edward, the Duchess of Albany. I say ill-fated from the 

 shortness of her life and its somewhat gloomy character. But 

 this will, and the documents relating to the will, have never yet 

 been published, and I think they make a valuable addition to the 

 Stuart literature which is so greatly in request at this time. 

 There are at least six or seven other items of conspicuous interest 

 in the book. There is one which appeals to me perhaps more 

 than any other, and it is the collection of homely letters of 

 Cockburn of Ormistoun to his gardener. I think they are so 

 interesting that they ought to be kept out of the Misceilmiy. 

 Not that I mean by that to disparage the character of the other 

 contents, but I think in this age of gardening literature, when the 

 rage for that species of reading has increased so as to produce 

 many trashy and worthless works — at least works which seem to 

 the uninitiated as somewhat shallow — it might be well to publish 

 what is an authentic series of documents of a Scottish gentle- 

 man and his gardener in the beginning of the first half of the 

 eighteenth century. Besides, to those who don't appreciate 

 .gardening literature, because they are not sufficiently gardeners, 

 there is a charm about this little book which it is extremely 

 difficult to over-estimate. If I might classify it, I should put it 

 among that rare collection of books which people can enjoy by 

 their bedside. I don't mean by that, that books of that descrip- 

 tion should be opiates. That is not my view, though, indeed, we 

 should be very glad to have literary opiates by our bedside. But 

 what I mean is that the book does not sufficiently excite the 

 attention to keep you awake, which is pleasant and healthy to 



