though to the inferior clergy there was unquestionably something overawing in his presence, arising from their consciousness of his superior attainments, his comprehensive intellect, and, above all, his singular intuition and penetrating glance, yet it was impossible not to admire the courtliness of his manners, and the benevolence of his sentiments. He was never in the habit of speaking in the House of Lords; but no one can read his Lordship's masterly "Life of Pitt," without being convinced that his principles were firm, manly, undeviating, and constitutional. His vote was always given in defence of the Protestant church; and one of his Charges (that of 1803) is particularly devoted to examining the claims of the Roman Catholics, and exposing the dangers to be apprehended from them. In literary composition, his Lordship's style is plain and perspicuous: his writings evince a clear judgment, strong sense, and close reasoning, conveyed in the best chosen, and most judiciously-arranged expressions. In controversy he is never dogmatical: what he asserts he proves; and he admirably succeeds in that highly-difficult point, the abstinence from all asperity. A small portrait of the deceased Prelate was engraved in 1791, in a publication called the "Senator," from a drawing taken from the life, by W. H. Brown, Esq.; and one of a more handsome size was published in "Cadell's British Gallery of Portraits." A beautiful picture, in the robes of the Garter, has more recently been painted by J. Jackson, R.A., and an engraving from it, by H. Meyer, forms the frontispiece to the "Lives of the Bishops of Winchester," by the Rev. Stephen Hyde Cassan. The foregoing Memoir has been derived almost entirely from "The Gentleman's Magazine.” 219 No. XVI. RICHARD PARKES BONINGTON, ESQ. It is painful to record the death of a man of genius, even when he has filled the full measure of years usually allotted to humanity: how much more so when he has only just commenced the career of promise, has only just entered that seldom-trodden path which leads to immortal renown! Young, but already eminent, the lamented artist whose brief story we are about to relate would no doubt, if he had lived, have been one of the most distinguished painters whom this country ever produced. He had vanquished all the difficulties which attend the commencing studies of his profession; he had rendered his hand perfectly obedient to his eye and his mind; and his eye and his mind had become acute and vigorous by the intense contemplation of nature and art. At that moment, as if still farther to illustrate the fallacy of all human hopes and expectations, he died—a victim to the very sensibility of character which, but for his premature fate, must have insured for him excellence and fame. Richard Parkes Bonington was born on the 25th of October, 1801, at the village of Arnold, near Nottingham. His father, who had pursued the arts in early life as an amusement, afterwards took to them as a profession, and painted portraits and landscapes, and also taught drawing at most of the respectable schools in the neighbourhood of Nottingham. At the early age of three years, young Bonington discovered a very extraordinary attachment to the fine arts, which was principally evinced by his sketching almost every object that presented itself to his observation. But he went even farther, and not unfrequently ventured upon designs; some specimens of which precocious efforts are still in the possession of his parents. They were chiefly drawn in pen-and-ink, with surprising accuracy, and illustrative of history, which, from the moment our infant artist was capable of thought, became his favourite study and research. We ought also to notice, that his sketches of marine subjects (in which he afterwards shone so conspicuously) were, beyond description, wonderful both for correctness and neatness. These productions completely confirmed his father's desire to take every opportunity of leading him to the arts as a profession; and he accordingly continued to direct his attention to the works of the best masters, but, above all, to Nature, the mother, nurse, and guide of true genius. Thus cherished, when Richard was not more than seven or eight years of age, he made some drawings from old buildings situated at Nottingham, which surpassed every thing he had before done; and, about the same time, he took a more decided turn for marine subjects, which bent of mind appears never afterwards to have forsaken him. At the age of fifteen his parents journeyed to Paris, feeling assured that the facilities for study afforded by that capital were much more important than any which could elsewhere be attained. Upon his arrival there, application was made for permission to draw in the Louvre; and the gentlemen who conducted that department, astonished beyond measure at the examples of the young English painter's skill, instantly, and in the most flattering manner, granted the boon required. Here, again, we cannot render too much praise to his anxious father for the assiduity and judgment with which he cultivated his son's talents. He took infinite pains to point his attention to the best specimens of the Italian and Flemish schools; and it must be added, that his docile and enthusiastic pupil profited nobly by his invaluable advice. And, while thus engaged, he met with many encouraging circumstances to cheer him in his labours: strangers, for instance, who, on visiting the Louvre, and being struck with his performances, purchased them at the prices demanded. He very soon after became a student of the Institute, and also drew at M. Le Baron Gros's atelier. It was about this period, when not occupied at the Institute or at the Baron's gallery, that he made many extraordinary drawings of coastscenery, particularly some representing fish-markets, with groups of figures, and for which he at all times found a ready sale. We should not omit to mention, that his study from the figure was exceedingly good; though, were it requisite to define his forte, we should certainly say, that, amid all the diversity of his unbounded talents, marine pieces were at once his favourites and chefs-d'œuvre. Yet we are almost unwilling to adhere to this opinion, when we recollect one picture, of quite another class, which he exhibited last year at Somerset House; we allude to his Henry the Third of France *, in which he admirably displayed his knowledge of colour and composition, and his great attention to costume. This picture, whether owing to its being unseen, for it was upon the floor, or to want of taste in the patrons and lovers of painting, is yet, we learn, in the possession of the artist's parents. We trust that his Majesty will be its purchaser: it would be ill bestowed in any other hands. As a contrast to the foregoing, we may remark, that the first time he exhibited in Paris, his drawing was sold the moment the exhibition opened; and for the next (a marine subject) he received the gold medal, at the same time that Sir Thomas Lawrence was decorated with the order of the Legion of Honour, and Mr. Constable and Mr. Fielding were also liberally awarded medals of gold. Subsequently to the period alluded to, Mr. Bonington undertook a tour to Italy, from which country he brought back * With reference to this picture, in the Literary Gazette of the 17th of May, 1828, after a complaint of the scandalously bad light in which it was hung, is the following passage: "Why is the pain of stooping till one's back is nearly broken to be inflicted as the price of the pleasure of looking at this able performance? — a performance which it would have done credit to the judgment of the Academy had they placed it in the best situation the rooms afford. [In a note The mantel of the great room would have been the proper place for this picture.'] Besides possessing a harmony of colouring which would be honourable to any school of art, the subject is treated in a most masterly manner. As a graphic illustration of the character and habits of the French monarch, it may be ranked with some of the well-described scenes by Sir Walter Scott in Quentin Durward, or any other of his historical novels." some splendid specimens of his abilities; his studies from nature literally breathing the atmosphere of the scenes so faithfully and beautifully represented. It was his intention, had his life been spared, to have painted a series of pictures similar to the Ducal Palace exhibited last year at the British Gallery, Pall-Mall. Mr. Bonington was truly a child of nature; and his acute and sensitive temperament too soon wore out the mortal mansion in which its exhausting operations were performed as in the alembic of the chemist, which throws off the inestimable produce, but perishes itself in the devouring flame. His mode of preparing for a picture was, after making an elaborate sketch for the outline and detail, to make most accurate studies of the local colour; and here he never forgot to catch the peculiarities of the various groups of figures that frequented the spot selected for his pencil. It is unnecessary to particularise his works, which have been from time to time seen in London exhibitions, and which are now in the possession of the Duke of Bedford, the Marquess of Lansdowne, Countess de Grey, Mr. Vernon, and Mr. Carpenter, the latter of whom has two of his greatest works of the Canaletti school. His disposition (we are assured by every one who knew him) was noble, generous, and benevolent in the extreme; and his filial affection was a remarkable trait in his character. parents have, indeed, lost in him a son of sons: he was their only child, their pride in life, and their irreparable bereavement in death. His friends, too, have to lament one whom they warmly loved; and never were more sincere and heartfelt regrets expressed for any individual, than are heard from all who claimed his intimacy or regard. The public and the lovers of the fine arts concur in this common grief; for except, perhaps, in Harlowe, there has been of late years no such ornament of our native school cut off in early prime, and in the full effulgence of spreading fame. Overwhelmed with the number of commissions which poured in upon him in consequence of his rising reputation, he seems to have viewed the accumulation of employment with dismay: success was the His |