A part of the essay which follows was printed in the United Irishman last spring. It is a summary, as far as I can remember, of a lecture I gave after the performance of The Hour-Glass.1 It repeats a good deal that has been said before in SAMHAIN or Beltaine, but only things that one must repeat over and over, not perhaps to convince those who do not believe us, but, as Blake said, to protect those who do.2
I think that there must be some who will be glad of Mr. W. Fay’s Portrait. We owe our National Theatre Society to him and his brother, and we have always owed to his playing our chief successes.3