that could not bear the rude blasts which it met in that quarter: it was too much of the modish mimosa class to suit the blunt taste of a public audience. After two representations, it shrunk back into the shade, and has been heard of no more. In fact, the author of the play, whoever he was, in his exhibition of fashionable manners, lifted the curtain too high.-All should not be shewn that exists. Mr. Sheridan describes with a delicate touch the gallantries of high life. The author of "Fashionable Friends" has imitated its amours; and if the gods in the gallery had not, by a lucky prescience, foreseen what was coming, and by a fortunate exertion of their prerogative, commanded the dis-appearance of the masquerade scene, it is difficult to guess what might not have appeared, to heighten the blushes of the ladies in the boxes. However, "Fashionable Friends" withdrew; and, as those of that rank generally deserve, let them be forgotten, while we once more turn our steps from the riotous verdict of a public theatre to the Arcadian groves of Strawberry Hill.

The history of this place may not be uninteresting. It was formerly a very lowly habitation, being originally (in the year 1698) the dwelling-house of the Earl of Bradford's coachman. This man furnished it respectably, and let it into lodgings. Colley Cibber was the first that hired it: and there he wrote his comedy of "The Refusal." It was afterwards engaged by different people of fashion, as a summer residence.

residence.

Mr. Walpole purchased it in the year

1747, and metamorphosed it into what it now is. The approach to the house through a vista of pine trees; the grey walls overgrown with ivy; the Gothic spires, and antique form of the structure ;give it the appearance of a monastery, and fill the beholder with a sensation of awe, which reminds him of the "white walls and silver springs" of Pamaclete, "its deep solitude, and sacred cells!".

The great parlour of the house is adorned with the portraits of Sir Edward Walpole and his daughters, one of which is the present Duchess of Gloucester. The windows are enriched with painted glass, and the furniture of the room is in conformity with the religious air of the building. In other apartments are exhibited the various works of Lady Diana Beauclerk, Miss Agnes Berry, and of Mrs. Damer herself. There are also curiosities nighly gratifying to the taste of the antiquary; besides many excellent paintings by old and approved artists, there is a very interesting one of an ancient date, representing the marriage of Henry the Sixth. There is also a fine bust of Henry the Seventh, by Tomegiono; and a picture of the Duchess of Suffolk and her husbandAdrian Stokes, by Lucas de Heere. The gallery contains portraits of many famous British characters; among the rest are Sir Francis Walsingham, George Villiers Duke of Buckingham, Anne Duchess of York, Lord Falkland, Charles Duke of Brandon, and a mighty host of foreign nobility; Margaret of

Valois,

Valois, Duchess of Savoy, Madame de Sevigné, Catharine de Medicis, the Countess de Grammont, Duchess de Mazarine, Duchess de Valiere, Madame de Maintenon, Ninon l'Enclos, and a hundred others. The library is magnificent, and the garden is scarcely excelled even by the boasted beauties of Stowe. It is perfumed with every sort of flower; and encircled by a wood which embosoms a small Gothic temple, adorned with every exertion of art.

scene.

It is in this delightful retreat, led by the spirit of meditation, and accompanied by the presiding genii of the adjacent fanes of Hampton, Twickenham, and Richmond, that the lovely Damer courts the united inspiration of the Muses. Sometimes a few mortal footsteps disturb the solemn repose of the The charming sisters, the Misses Berry, quit their rose-embowered cottage to seek the fair mistress of Strawberry Hill. Mrs. Siddons, the British Melpomene, loves to commune with the soul of Shakspeare in those shades; and Eve Maria Garrick, the interesting relict of departed greatness, delights to repeat the history of former years of triumph and felicity, when her renowned husband shewed to the world that He and NATURE Were ONE. It is then that the fair recluse looks round upon her illustrious friends; that she mingles the delicious tear of sentiment with theirs ;-it is then that she enjoys the full luxury of her situation:

She seems through consecrated walks to rove;
She hears soft murmurs die along the grove

Led

Led by the sound she roams from shade to shade,
By godlike genius venerable made.

Here his first lays the Twickenham Poet sung;
There the last numbers flowed from Garrick's tongue.
O early lost! what tears the river shed,
When the sad pomp along his banks was led!
His drooping swans on ev'ry note expire,
And on his willows hang each Muse's lyre!

LIEUT. GEN. SIR JOHN DOYLE, BART.

THE gentleman who is the subject of this sketch is a native of Ireland, was born in Dublin in the year 1756, and is descended from an ancient and respectable family of that country. His father was eminent in the profession of the law, by which he considerably improved his original patrimony; and retired from business for the purpose of superintending the education of his children, which appears to have been of the utmost advantage to his family, who have in consequence risen to high rank and respectability in their various professions. The eldest, William, was a king's counsel, and master in Chancery; and universally admired for his brilliant wit, which obtained him the friendship of the late celebrated Edmund Burke, Lord Charlemont, and all lovers of true taste and talent. He contributed largely with his pen to that admired political publication called Baratariana; and was the popular candidate for the university of Dublin, in opposition to

the

the Honourable Mr. Hutchinson, the son of the late Provost. The heat of party produced a misunderstanding, which terminated in an affair of honour, first with the Provost, and afterwards with his son. But these differences having arisen merely from the political warmth of the moment, so far from producing animosity, created a friendship between the parties which lasted during their lives.

Two perished in the service of their country abroad. A fourth became a dignitary in the church; and the fifth brother, Welbore Ellis Doyle, died in 1797, a Major-General, Colonel of the fifty-third regiment, and Commander in Chief of the island of Ceylon; an officer who has shared in the dangers of the American war, and of that of Flanders, under his Royal Highness the Duke of York, whose confidence and friendship he had the honour to preserve to the last. This gentleman was particulary distinguished by his spirited attack at the head of the fourteenth regiment upon the French lines at Famar; after which he was selected by his Royal Highness for the honourable command of the grenadiers of the line in the storming of Valenciennes. But of this distinguished officer we shall not say any more at present, as his brilliant services well entitle him to a separate niche in the temple of fame.

The present subject, Lieut.-General John Doyle, - having been originally intended for the profession of the law, received his education at Trinity College, Dublin, and was entered at one of our inns of court in London. About this period, having lost his father,