Tá na Coláistí Gaeilge ar oscailt anois. Chaith mé cúpla lá i gceann díobh le gairid, is é sin sa Choláiste breá atá i dTúar Mhic Éide ar bhruach Locha Measca. Ní bréag a rá gur álainn an áit í ag daoine atá ar lorg na Gaeilge nó ar lorg na sláinte. Tá an sliabh ann agus an machaire; an loch aoibhinn drithleach agus an abhainn ghlórach; iascaireacht agus sealgaireacht ag an té a chuireann suim ina leithéid agus sa ghleann sin tá an Ghaeilge go brímhar ag sean agus ag óg ar fud an cheantair. An cúigiú lá de Lúnasa tosófar ar an gcéad téarma eile creidim. Tá súil ag lucht riartha an Choláiste le os cionn ocht scór mac léinn. Beidh cúigear nó seisear oide acu. Beidh an Dónallánach ann ina cheann oide. Beidh Máire Ní Thuathail ann agus Pádraic Mac Considín agus Eoin Ó Máille agus Seán Ó Ruáin agus daoine nach iad ag cuidiú leis an Ardoide. Ní áibhéil a rá go mbíonn togha na múinteoireachta le fáil sa Choláiste i dTúar Mhic Éide. Is fada an lá anois ó chuir mé féin suim i múinteoireacht ár dteanga i dtosach. Tá suas le naoi mbliana imithe tharam ó mhúin mé mo chéad cheacht i gConradh na Gaeilge sa chathair seo. Ó shin i leith chonaic mé an-chuimse múinteoirí agus Béarla agus Fraincís agus Gaeilge á múineadh acu agus thig liom a rá nach bhfaca mé fós aon mhúinteoir díobh a sháraigh Pádraic Ó Dónalláin. Tá brí ann agus fuinneamh nach bhfuil ina lán agus an té a chaitheann téarma faoina chúram, beidh Gaeilge aige ag imeacht dó. Éireoidh leis go breá. Na múinteoirí eile atá sa Choláiste tá eolas beacht acu ar a gceird agus tá a gcroí san obair.
Ní dochar dom nochtadh do Ghaeil Londan cén saol atá i ndán don mhac léinn a chaitheann téarma nó dhó sa Choláiste. Gheobhaidh sé lóistín deas glan compóradach san áit ar bheagán airgid. Ón uair a éireoidh sé ar maidin go rachaidh sé a chodladh san oíche, ní bheidh air focal den Sacs-Bhéarla a labhairt agus ní chloisfidh sé móran de más mian leis féin. Má éiríonn sé go moch ar maidin thig leis bualadh amach faoin sliabh; nó más fearr leis é, thig leis bád a fháil agus breac a mharú sa loch i gcomhair a bhricfeasta. Ar a deich a chlog ní mór dó a bheith sa Choláiste. Múintear foghraíocht do na mic léinn uile i dtosach sa Halla agus ansin téann an uile ag sracadh le haimhréiteacht na Gaeilge go mbíonn sé a cúig, ach amháin go mbíonn saoire dhá uair acu i gcomhair dinnéir. Sa tráthnóna thig leis an mac léinn a rogha rud a dhéanamh: thig leis dul ag bádóireacht, ag snámh, ag iascaireacht, ag spaisteoireacht, ag seanchas, ag bailiú sean-amhrán nó ní ar bith eile a thograíonn sé. Faoi dhó nó thrí huaire sa tseachtain bíonn na mic léinn agus na hiníonacha léinn agus na hoidí le chéile sa Choláiste agus céilí acu ann. Castar daoine ar a chéile ag na céilithe seo agus bíonn siad mór le chéile ar feadh a saoil ina dhiaidh sin.
Is iomaí duine a mbíonn fonn siúlóide nó rothaíochta air. Thig leis an té sin cuairt a thabhairt ar Chunga agus ar an tseanmhainistir bhreá atá le feiceáil ann. Ach más duine faiteach é ná téadh sé go háras na gcloigne sa mhainistir agus an oíche ag titim!!
Thig leis cuairt a thabhairt ar an Líonán álainn le dul ag snámh san fharraige, nó thig leis dul ag strapadóireacht i measc na gcnoc duaibhseach atá thart timpeall ar Mhám Trasna. Más fear le stair é nach bhfuil Má Tuireadh i ngar dó freisin, agus níl dabht ach díobh seo dár luaigh mé go gcasfar daoine lácha flaighiúla leis. An té a thabharfaidh cuairt ar Thúar Mhic Éide ní bheidh aiféala air ag filleadh dó.
It is like the old times again, this gathering of the youthful clans of Connacht on the hillside. 'Tis no longer the warfare of brute force, nor that of murderous engines for which they muster; but the modern combat of reason and of peace. Their leader is a second Emmet, with Emmet's fiery zeal, and none of Emmet's rashness. They are young Gaels, an Connacht-men, and so, full of enthusiasm: backed up, like our ancestors of the epic, by the eternal feminine. But whither are they striving? Is patriotism about to become old-fashioned? Will the forces of universal fraternity and of modern progress kill it, or merely broaden and elevate it? Taking the latter result for granted, we still have the hostility of the minority , and the indifference of the majority to contend with. The former is an enemy to be reckoned with. The importance of the latter is sometimes exaggerated. Mobs have always been indifferent; they are too busily engaged in the struggle for existence to mind much else. The people of America were indifferent; yet America obtained its independence. Mankind has always consisted of sheep and shepherds: it is the qualities of the shepherds which decide the day.
The Connacht Irish College, then, proposes to mould an important body of the shepherds; that they may enable the sheep to follow up and develop their ancestral individuality. At last the idea of penalising subject nations has been discredited; so that once more we may hold up our heads and be ourselves. It is the function of teachers to see that the rising generation do this, without feeling ashamed or afraid. For this they require hearts of oak, to retain confidence in their work from day to day, when all seems lost. In the war of centuries we have been overcome by the English, partly owing to our rashness and credulity. In the peaceful struggle for mastery, will the English or the Irish element prevail ? They have the same characteristics still. The question is, have we the same qualities: or has our mercurial temperament been steadied by the force of circumstances ? It has been terribly easy to throw dust in our eyes in the past. Napoleon and the Spanish could use us as catspaws under our very noses; and our native poets extolled them as the hope of the nation. Irish rebels, with few exceptions, acted so disjointedly as practically to defy all hope of success. To this day we are easily aroused by vague promises. In short, we need as much cold reason as we can beg, borrow, or steal.
An Irish College is in the intellectual order what Lough Derg is in the spiritual. In both, mere outward show and creature comforts are relegated to the background; and we become beings of the spirit. An atmosphere of peace and good-will permeates the whole. The "up-to-date" person who has been used to consider culture as identical with modern appliances will experience a rude shock on reaching Tourmakeady. For here, not only have we no carpets on the kitchen floors, but we have none on the parlour either. Yet numbers of young men and women contrive to live here most happily. Freed from the stilts of modern town life, they may even regain, to some extent, the natural taste for the simple and the beautiful, which is being gradually crushed out by the stress and strain of civilization. They are happy in having the charm of the country combined with the social intercourse of town life.
It is five years ago since I reached Ballinrobe for the first time, and joined a waggonette full of pilgrims, or rather exiles, mostly primary teachers, bound for Tourmakeady. For exiles the majority felt themselves, starting off to spend their holidays, studying, in the "back of God speed". We were all green-horns; so we discussed the awful prospect before us with all the energy we could summon in such a desperate situation. The jolting of the vehicle, the perpetual clammy drizzle, and the seemingly interminable distance of the promised land were taken as a foretaste of future joys. At last we sighted land, and extricated ourselves with great difficulty from the various small bags and boxes among which our nether limbs had been carefully stowed away. Cold and stiff, we commenced to crawl up the steep path which leads to the College: while the passing natives gaped at us with a sly twinkle of suppressed mirth. For they have got over the first outbursts of surprise, and now regard the students as a species of harmless fools. Perhaps they have by this time come to take them seriously. The College is a large unadorned slated house, built on the top of a bare hillside looking down upon the wide and gloomy expanse of Lough Mask. Having met the staff of the College, we proceed to the dining room, without taking in any more of our surroundings than a general feeling of coldness and gloom. As the new-comers of Lough Derg are shocked at the first sight of the bare-fotted pilgrims, so we are yet out of our element; we must take off our own boots before we become fully reconciled to the idea.
The first night, many of us ladies slept in the College dormitory. From my bed I could see Lough Mask, cold and gloomy as the grave, beating on the pebbly shore, to the spirit-laden whispering of the wind. I awake with a start in the grey dawn, to find one of my neighbours discussing with a friend of hers the pangs she felt at having left her poor husband and little ones to the tender mercies of a "slavey". But soon she got over the dull misgivings of the first moments of waking, and toddled out. Together we sauntered out on the hill; in time to see the dark clouds reel back at the touch of light unutterable. Our pulses throbbed with the pure joy of life, as we moved softly across the grass. We came back in time for breakfast, to find our friends quite bright, already discussing the routine of the day. We are to work from ten till six, with convenient intervals. We are soon apportioned to our several classes. During the first interval we scurry right, left and centre to interview our prospective landladies, and have our vaious little baggages hauled off. Work again, and then home to delve into our kits, and beging to feel at home. Thus we work for five days a week. On Saturday and Sunday we are free to wander at our own sweet wills, and lose ourselves in the wild mountain of old Muigheo.
All the farmers in the neighourhood open their hospitable doors to the students. The whole district becomes a kind of residential university with a grand sweep of mountain and lake district for its private grounds. I wonder what would Newman have thoughts of this: for here, we have his idea of a university carried out on a broader and more natural basis than he ever dreamed of. Here we realise that books are merely an artificial and second-hand object of study, and that the proper study of mankind is man. Not only are the students more educated by each other than they are by their professors, but they are educated by the whole atmosphere of the place, by the study of mankind in its natural setting. The farmer, with his consummate equi-poise, and his all round outlook on life, is far more typical of humanity than for instance, the city clerk or the leisured peer. Here, to a great extend, we see human nature unmasked, and freed from the hampering influences of extreme conventionality.
Education is said to be the harmonious development of body mind and heart; and this we have at Tourmakeady, naturally interfused. The people fo Tourmakeady have great sympathies because they and their ancestors have known what suffering is and pain softens the heart, whether it is not naturally callous. Intercourse with these people, and with nature will widen our sympathy, will open our hearts to "the still sad music of humanity". The whole regime tends to open the mind to new ideas. As for physical exercise, one simply never stops. It is in the spirit of the place, that one can walk all day and in the evening become a "dancing dervish".
The College proper consisted of two large falls simply furnished. There is a general assembly of the students for phonetices in the morning after which the various classes separate. Later they rejoin for lessons on Method and then split up again for special class work. The evening and part of the afternoon are free. It is like a happy family with Michael Breathnach for its guiding-star. Micheal, with his old boyish enthusiasm and bright personality; but with a strangely attenuated from, hollow cheeks and eyes unnaturally brilliant. Sometimes, in repose, a look as of a hunted deer passes over his face, and is gone; the anguish of youth and enthusiasm at the thought of early death. It is a composite thing, this close bond of union which unites the students; founded on racial consciousness, springing into being simultaneously. If the feeling could be sustained, the teachers of Connacht would make their province as self-reliant as it is at present West-British. But they go back very often single-handed, each one to his own village to have their fine courage gradually broken for want of stimulation. An annual reunion of Tourmakeady would do much towards keeping the fire of enthusiasm alight. For we must have enthusiastic teachers, or all is lost, so that they may be able to stimulate themselves from within, when all without is hopeless.
The students very often gave each other céilidhes in the evenings at their respective lodgings. There we danced of a summer evening in the clear space in front of the house. It was delighted to sit in the quaint old garden and listen to the soft wailing rise and fall of the old Irish songs, harmonising with the soft rippling of the lake. Soon we gathered round the kitchen fire, and listened to the man of the house telling his weird stories of war and love. They are a heroic race, these men, with their deep reverence for religion, for learning, and for women. Physically strong they are but their children are often pale and thin. There is too much of the strong tea element in their diet. The grand affair of the week was the College céilidhe. We had a grand variety of talent, both grave and gay, and went home stimulated and happy, having sung the Gaelic anthem in chorus. Towards the end of the term, Doctor Douglas Hyde came to visit the College, and spent part of the day with us. On his return in the evening, we accompanied him part of the way, headed by our ard-ollamh and our piper, joined on the way by some of the natives, in their white flannel coats. At the end of the bohreen, in the midst of majestic hills, we halted for a final review. The sunshine was dancing brightly over the lake, and our hearts were gay and hopeful. The pipes played up, and we had a rince fada on the roadside. Then we had some songs. Finally a few words of encouragement and of farewell from our chief, to one of his little scattered bands of faithful workers. It was a time of deep joy and intellectual striving; one of those moments when the soul is stirred to its very depths, and ready to dare all to achieve its end; when man, striving, according to his nature, to accomplish a noble object, is supremely happy:
"While with an eye made quiet by the power
Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,
We see into the life of things".