were decked to welcome the conquering army, and William, wearing his rival's crown, had offered up thanksgiving at St. Patrick's. M. de Bostaquet during the next few weeks was engaged on detachment duty in Leinster, and visited several parts of the province. His sketches of the appearance of the country confirm Lord Macaulay's well-known descriptions. With the exception of a few fortified towns the province was almost everywhere a waste, scathed with the ruinous marks of war, and abandoned to desolation and barrenness. The Huguenot horsemen toiled over plains for the most part unbroken by the plough, without a tree to enliven the landscape, and at rare intervals dotted with hovels inhabited by half-naked savages. The rich, peopled, and cultured expanse between the waters of the Suir and Barrow was a tract of wild and halfflooded morass, overlooked by shaggy and rain-swept mountains which the weary traveller crossed with difficulty. The beautiful region, whose wooded hills, luxuriant glades, and garden-like fields, thick studded with noble seats and villages, delights the eye of the tourist in Wicklow, was a dreary labyrinth of unexplored highlands, the haunts of rude mountaineers and banditti.

M. de Bostaquet was soon recalled from this duty to the headquarters of William at Limerick. Here, abandoned by their French auxiliaries, by their worthless king, and their foreign generals, the remains of the beaten Celtic army made a last stand for their hearths and altars. Their fortress was a halfruined town, surrounded by dismantled ramparts, which had been thrown up three centuries before to resist the attacks of the Kerne of Clare, and might well provoke the scorn or ridicule of engineers of the school of Vauban. But, as Lord Macaulay has well pointed out, the walls of Limerick, like those of Londonderry, were defended by powers invisible yet strong, which the regular soldier may under-estimate the love of country and the love of religion. More than once the best troops of England and France recoiled discomfited from the assault; and, after Sarsfield's successful diversion, the siege was raised, and for many months the heroic city remained untaken. M. de Bostaquet, who shared in the general belief that 'the mere Irish would never stand,' and does all he can to depreciate their valour, thus describes one of the episodes of the siege:

Two days afterwards a council of war was held at head-quarters, and it was resolved to attack the counterscarp by daylight. The hour named was three in the afternoon. Several officers did not approve this plan; nevertheless, detachments from the grenadier

regiments were told off for the storming parties. They were led by officers of the French contingent; the brave and experienced La Barbe commanded. The cavalry was held in readiness for an assault; and the King appeared at the appointed time, though, having approached too near the town, he had been nearly cut off by the enemy. At a given signal our men rushed forward and made good their entry into the ditch, the enemy abandoning it, and throwing away their arms. The ramparts having been crossed at the breach, the English grenadiers got into the town and drove the besieged from their first entrenchments; however, not receiving supports, for the King did not wish them to pass the counterscarp, they were attacked on a sudden and all cut to pieces. The enemies charged as our troops fell back, and killed and wounded fifteen hundred of them.'

M. de Bostaquet ascribes the failure at Limerick to the rashness of Bentinck and perhaps of William, but the true cause was the skill of Sarsfield, and the heroism of the Celtic garrison. As he did not serve in 1691, he did not witness the second siege, in which the unconquerable valour of the defenders extorted a capitulation from Ginkel, unhappily set at nought afterwards; nor did he behold the last scene of the war when the red eye of battle closed in despair' amidst the ruins and carnage of Aghrim. In the following year he went in the train of the younger Ruvigny on a tour of inspection, and visited the principal fortresses of Ireland. What he saw and heard, we might suppose, would perhaps have touched the heart of an exile expatriated for the sake of religion. The defenders of Catholic Ireland had disappeared, like him, proscribed for their faith at home; like him, too, to serve with distinction, and display the energy of vengeance and hatred under the strange flag of a new sovereign. The land was occupied by a rude soldiery who held down its terrified inhabitants, and levelled their altars with the dust; the priesthood of a persecuted race were placed under the ban of the law; the possessions of an ancient aristocracy were changing hands by violent confiscation. But the sympathy which in these happier times we give alike to the Huguenot of France and the Irish Catholic of the Boyne was not then felt for each other by men in whom passion had quenched the sense of pity; and M. de Bostaquet, when traversing Ireland, thinks only of the crowning mercy which had given his enemies into the hands of the spoiler, and had broken the idols of a false religion. Thirty years earlier, before persecution had made him a zealot and a refugee, he would have been animated by different sentiments.

The war in Ireland having now terminated, M. de Bostaquet sought and obtained leave to retire on a pension from Wil

liam's service. He was in his sixtieth year and in delicate health; and Ruvigny had secured him a retreat where, although far from his native Normandy, he might hope to bring up his family in his faith and to end his chequered career in comfort. At the settlement of Ireland upon the Restoration a tract near the edge of Queen's County had received the modern name of Portarlington, from the well-known courtier to whom it was allotted. A few colonists collected on this spot during the interval between 1660 and the civil war which had just ended; and, in the confiscations which ensued, Portarlington was granted by William to Ruvigny. A Huguenot church and a Huguenot college soon arose upon a site then desolate and composed of wet and uncultivated moorland; and by degrees a number of the exiles, under the protection of their powerful patron, became settlers in this wild district. The little colony throve rapidly; and here, after a few years, M. de Bostaquet established himself with his family, and spent a calm and happy old age, in the company of brothers-in-arms and friends united strangely in a foreign land, and in educating his surviving daughters. He lived long enough to hear the echoes of that mighty struggle which tamed the pride and broke the strength of his ancient persecutor, and in which France had to mourn bitterly the loss of her banished Huguenot citizens. He died in 1709, and his name, recorded by his descendants, was until lately legible on a stone among the graves of Portarlington churchyard. Four generations have passed away since, and yet the little colony of Ruvigny retains numberless traces of its origin. Among the owners of the cultivated farms which now cover the adjacent district will be found Sabatiers, Le Blancs, and Legros, whose trim gardens and quaint dwellings still bear the mark of foreign husbandry. In the aspect of the inhabitants of the village-the active and springy step of the men and the lithe and graceful bearing of the women-a French descent is often evident; and the parish church, in which till late years the Calvinist service was read in French to the great-grandchildren of the first settlers, is a museum of Huguenot records and monuments. Under more than one roof for a century and a half possessed by Des Vaux's, Vignoles's, and Le Grands, will be found relics of the ancient exiles-notched swords that may have done service at the Boyne -old pistols and holsters of Limerick or Aghrim- quaint arras and faded yet valuable tapestry secreted hastily in the flight, and, here and there, on some treasured picture, the dark eyes and luxuriant form of some fair girl of Provence or

Languedoc, whose beauty has been transmitted to her descendants.

M. de Bostaquet's sons, as we have seen already, were not allowed to leave France on the occasion of their father's exile, but the family was continued in Ireland through the daughters of the author of this volume, and survives in the present Dean of Ossory. The male line was only extinguished in its native country a few years ago, and its history has been traced by the editors with the care and diligence that mark their performance. The paternal estate, after it had been confiscated, reverted ultimately to a grandson of M. de Bostaquet, who, although a Huguenot, and, as such, very nearly an outlaw in his own country, appears to have acquired considerable possessions, and probably under the Orleans Regency enjoyed practically complete toleration. His son must have in part regained the former position of his name, for he was an officer of the Mousquetaires du Roi-a rank confined entirely to the noblesseyet we see his degradation as a Huguenot in the circumstance that he was compelled to inter his family in the court at Bostaquet, even a heretic noble not being allowed a place of burial in consecrated ground. From him descended two sons, who were true to the cause of the Bourbon monarchy, although of the faith it had proscribed, and in the agony of the great Revolution were to be found among the warriors of La Vendée. One of them, after the Restoration of 1815, became the Marquis de Lamberville, and having filled several offices in the State, and, in a day of comparative toleration, having remained true to the creed of his fathers, died in 1847, just before revolution was to overwhelm a second dynasty of the House of Bourbon. With him ended the family in France; their lands have passed into other hands, and little remains to show what they were except the feudal dovecote at Bostaquet, the ancient blazon upon its walls, and the mouldering heaps in the narrow court, a monument of their faith and its treatment. Their descendant in Ireland has given us this record of perhaps their most remarkable ancestor, which, amongst numerous graphic details more or less valuable to the historian of the time, contains a moral not inaptly summed up in the verse of the Roman poet:—

"Tantum religio potuit suadere malorum.'

ART. VIII.—1. Tuscan Sculptors, their Lives, Works, and Times. By CHARLES C. PERKINS. 2 vols. London: 1864. 2. Life of Michael Angelo by HERMAN GRIMM. Translated, with the Author's Sanction, by FANNY ELIZABETH BUNNETT. 2 vols. London: 1865.

3. Italian Sculpture of the Middle Ages and Period of the Revival of Art. A descriptive Catalogue of the Works forming the above Section of the South Kensington Museum, with additional illustrative Notices. By J. C. ROBINSON, F.S.A. 1 vol. London: 1862.

TH

HE period of Art in which we live is above all a literary one. The number of books produced both in this country and upon the Continent, during the last thirty years, upon nearly every branch of Art is extraordinary, while all the modern resources of engraving, lithography, photography, and electrotype, have been employed to instruct us by illustration in the various styles of past times. One very interesting subject, that of Christian sculpture, has, however, been strangely neglected. Notices of various works of Christian sculpture are to be found scattered about in descriptions of the churches or galleries which contain them, and lives of the Christian sculptors may be picked out of divers books where they are placed in company with those of other celebrities; but we know of no book which has hitherto treated the subject separately and fully. The study of sculpture has long been almost exclusively that of the antique; and although no one can for a moment deny the immense superiority of Greek sculpture to all that has been since produced, the position assigned to it as the only model for imitation has produced some unfortunate results. It has led sculptors to look upon anatomical display and beauty of form as the objects to be attained, and to consider meaning and sentiment as secondary or unimportant points in their art. Jupiters, Apollos, and Venuses were originally monuments of the religion of the ancients, and appealed to their feelings and understandings: they excite our admiration now only by their beauty of execution. It is not enough for Christian sculpture that it should attain merely this latter form of excellence. The Christian sculptor should speak to us through his art as the pagan spoke to his contemporaries. He has a nobler and purer faith to illustrate and teach, and if it affords less opportunity for displaying the beauty of nude forms, it makes ample amends for this deficiency by the oc