292 
THE LADIES* MAGAZINE OF GARDENING. 
being so arranged as to form alternate bays and promontories on the 
lawns, this having been done by the direction of Lord Stair, who superin¬ 
tended its execution himself. The park is being enlarged and improved, 
so that in a few years the place will be a most magnificent one; the only 
blot is a new approach that is being formed, by which a corner of the 
castle will be first seen by the visitor, who will thus be led to form a very 
erroneous idea of this noble mansion. 
Preston Hall is a very fine place; andthe park is covered with magnificent 
trees, particularly larches, sycamores, ashes, elms, and beeches, all of 
enormous size. I think I never saw anything finer than the view of the 
park from under the branches of these fine trees. The kitchen garden was 
very good; and we saw there what we had not before met with in Scot¬ 
land, viz., good ripe figs. The gardener told us that he had had ripe figs 
ever since May 14th, and that he has about forty different sorts. The 
Brunswick fig has ripened fruit in the open air; and I may here mention 
that the Brunswick fig is the best of all kinds for a small garden, as it is 
very hardy, and an excellent bearer. Newbattle Abbey, the seat of the 
Marquis of Lothian, was the next place we visited, and I was quite de¬ 
lighted with the appearance of the house, and the flower-garden with its 
fine old dials, both being beautifully situated on the banks of the South Esk. 
There is here a remarkable beech, of enormous size, the branches of which 
form a beautiful canopy, so dense that a person may sit under it during 
heavy rain without being wet. In the park are some fine sycamores, and 
Scotch elms. The kitchen garden, I understood, was very curious, but I 
had not time to walk through it, as we had appointed to return to 
Dalkeith by one o’clock. 
Dalkeith House .—I think I never was more disappointed with any 
place than with this; though probably it was in part owing to the cir¬ 
cumstance of our having to walk to it a long way through a burning sun. 
When we arrived at the inn, we found the person Mr. MTntosh had sent 
to meet us, gone; but as we were told the park gate opened into the 
principal street of the town, we did not trouble ourselves about this, and 
ordering the horses to be put up, we walked to the duke’s gate. Here 
we were most unexpectedly refused admittance. Even the magic name 
of Loudon, before which park gates and garden doors generally fly open, 
had no effect. The man said the duke was at home, and he could let no 
one in without express orders. In vain we told him we had permission; 
unfortunately we had not the letter with us, and he would not believe 
what we said, and we had no resource but to retrace our steps to the inn 
to hunt out the permission, or to proceed to Mr. M‘Intosh’s dwelling, which 
the man said was half a mile off. We chose the latter course, and under 
