an
educationalist, being especially keen on the study of continental
methods of education, such as those of Belgium and Germany.

He conducted a secondary boarding school for boys, where all the walls
were decorated with the works of modern Irish artists, such as Jack
Yeats and George W. Russell. He later, in order to give vent to his
views, developed a gift for oratory, his oration at the grave of
O'Donovan Rossa having stirred all Ireland. He was also the author of a
charming little volume of short stories entitled "Josagan," or "Little
Jesus," while his translations of Irish folk-lore and cradle songs were
equally delicate.

Crowds of the victims, in fact, were men of character, talent, and
eminence--numerous writers, journalists, poets, authors, professors; but
all were classed in the same category of felons.

Indeed, it has been said that the blow was aimed as much at the freedom
of the Press and the liberty of thought as the actual rising in arms;
but as the majority of the sentiments maintained were but repetitions of
the muzzled grievances of labour and thought in England, the effect will
undoubtedly react through British democracy upon the heads of those who
took advantage of the racial prejudice to crush out of opposition.

Thus John MacDermot, one of the signatories of the rebel proclamation,
was editor of a paper called _Freedom_, and had already served a term of
imprisonment for speeches which had been interpreted as prejudicial to
recruiting. Edward de Valera, who commanded at Boland's mill, and who
was sentenced to penal servitude for life, had been a professor in
Blackrock College. W. O'Clery Curtis, who was deported, was a
journalist, and Arthur Griffiths the able editor of the _Irish
Year-book_.

Then came the disciples of the muses. Thomas MacDonagh seems to have
been always more or less haunted with the vision of revolution, and as
early as eight years ago produced a play entitled "When the Dawn is
Come," though the insurrection it foretold was placed fifty years hence.

He, too, wrote poetry, like Pearse, under whom he was at school, but he
was better known and his verse of a higher standard. He seems almost to
have had an inkling of his future fate, and might also be said to have
deliberately chosen the lost cause of his heart, for, in one of his
earlier poems, entitled "The War Legacy," we find the following:

Far better War's battering breeze than the Peace that barters the