To the Dutch must be conceded the earliest manifestation of a love for gardening, in Northern Europe--a feeling possessed by them even before the thirteenth century. The taste owed its origin, no doubt, partly to the general monotony of their country, partly to the wealth of their merchants, and partly to an extended commerce, which enabled the Dutch to import from the East those bulbous roots which have long been cultivated in Holland, and were once valued at fabulous prices. Dutch gardening soon acquired a peculiar character of its own. The gardens of Loo, laid out in the time of William III., were excellent examples of the symmetrical Dutch style; a canal divided the upper from the lower garden; the beds were cut in squares, and filled at various seasons of the year with tulips, hyacinths, poppies, sun-flowers, &c.; straight walks intersected the grounds, which were adorned with numerous statues, grotto-work, and fountains, some exceedingly whimsical and curious; the trees and shrubs were cut into devices, principally in pyramidal forms, whilst hedges separated the different parts of the garden, and were not allowed to grow above a certain height. Straight rows and double rows of trees constitute another characteristic of the Dutch style, and elaborate lace-like patterns for parterres were much in vogue during the latter part of the seventeenth century. The influence of this style upon English gardens may still be perceived in the clipped hedgerows and trees, green terraces, and now only prim, now magnificent avenues, so frequent in our country. It would appear that from William down to George II., gardening in England suffered sad deterioration as an art. Formality prevailed to the most deadening and oppressive extent. The shapes of men and animals were cut in trees, and the land was threatened with a vast and hideous collection of verdant sculpture. Pope and Addison came to the rescue of nature, and ridiculed the monstrous fashion. Pope, in one of his papers in “The Guardian,” details an imaginary set of plants for sale, including a “St. George, in box, his arm scarce long enough, but will be in condition to stick the dragon next April;” and a “quickset hog shot up into a porcupine by being forgot a week in rainy weather.” Addison, in “The Spectator,” says, “Our British gardeners, instead of humouring nature, love to deviate from it as much as possible. Our trees rise in cones, globes, and pyramids. We see the marks of the scissors upon every plant and bush.” Pope himself laid out his grounds in his villa at Twickenham; and his gardens there, which still bear the impress of his taste, attest to his practical skill as a gardener.