THE Christian Brothers, founded by Edmund Ignatius Rice, was a remarkable religious order which attracted many great and devout men to its ranks. And many not so great or devout.

Rice's dream of helping the poor, through Christian education was carried forward by other truly good men, men like T.A. Hoope, the founder, and first manager of Artane Industrial School, which he started in 1876: to house and educate homeless boys, most of them from the Dublin streets.

Hoope carried his founder's vision forward with zest and zeal. Artane was to become the jewel in the Christian Brother's crown, the largest and most self sufficient boys industrial school in the world.

By the early years of this century, there were scores of schools throughout Ireland and the world proudly bearing the letters CBS and revered for their dedication to the education of the less privileged.

Discipline was their hallmark. The Christian Brothers became expert in organising huge numbers of boys. In places like Artane they catered for up to 900 from the ages of seven to 16 as live in pupils.

However, the Brothers' success story was slowly but surely to become tarnished by some of the not so devoted young men who joined it from, the 1920s onwards.

This was because hundreds of parents, particularly in rural Ireland, promised their sons at an early age to the religious orders like the Christian Brothers, often against the sons own will. Many parents, even landowners used the Christian Brothers to get a cheap education for their sons, pledging that they would enter the order.

Many of these men who were forced into the order became frustrated. Their frustration, born out of boredom and celibacy, was released in anger against the boys. To these men celibacy was like drip feeding a caged tiger.

My own experience in Artane was that from the age of eight I suffered because of the Brothers' frustrations. I often lay wake in, those dormitories of fear longing for love and affection from someone, anyone.

Bed wetters were flogged naked, and I found inexcusable the beatings and floggings for mere trivialities like whispering in the dormitories, being caught out of bed, swapping a comic - or being seen kneeling on your pillow at prayer time.

I cried myself to sleep for my stolen childhood and longed to return to my home in Barnacullin in the Dublin hills. I was never alone as I endured the pain of the hard leather layawake listening to the strap swish across boys' naked flesh.

Many of us walked in our sleep, though we were escaping from our nightmares. We were known only by our serial number, which was engraved on our boots and in our minds.

However, it was the classrooms I feared the most, as I was awful at maths, writing and spelling. My hands, feet and buttocks endured excruciating pain, and as a result I did not pass one exam in my eight years at Artane. The leathers used were 18 inches long and I 1/2 inches wide and had lead and iron slats inserted for added pain. I will never forget that.

In many ways the Christian Brothers had too much power. They often acted as though they were untouchable as God's chosen men. But with nicknames such as Hellfire, the Apenian and the Sheriff, they acted more like tormented, frustrated young men who quite simply needed a good night out on the town.

I blame the State and the courts for using the Christian Brothers to educate and to discipline the worst young delinquents from the streets of Dublin. To mix the boys with orphans and homeless kids was a grave error of judgment.

The biggest mistake was that no guidelines were laid down by the State or the order for the use of corporal punishment; hence the Brothers used it at random. Not being able to differentiate the orphans from the offenders, the rod was never spared.

The Christian Brothers' greatest achievements have never been fully acknowledged by State or the courts.

They built schools throughout the world; they were masters of organisation, disciplining thousands of often uncontrollable boys, and instilling integrity, pride and self respect in every pupil.

The abuse to so many boys in their care invariably made better headlines. Bad news travels fast and sells well. But who can blame the media for highlighting abuse by people in religious run institutions and in other walks of life? In fact, I am beholden to the media for their work, for pointing out ways in which society can learn.

Many of the ex pupils were marked for life, as I was. The shadow of Artane has never left me, although I bear no anger against the Brothers, as so many were indeed good men who fostered national pride, respect and obedience into us.

I loved the beat of the Artane Boys Band. I cried in my dreams when I heard The Foggy Dew and A Nation Once Again. I dearly wanted to join the IRA, and on leaving to fight for my Ireland, their Ireland, united and cherished by the Brothers.

I learned from them that discipline was essential and perhaps it is a necessary evil. But it gives me great pleasure now to know that my children enjoyed their schooldays in St Theresa's Primary School and in the Community College, Balbriggan, free from fear. It is a great credit to our education authorities that our children can attend school without fear of corporal punishment.

The Brothers' greatest achievement was giving a secondary education to so many, from the poorest to those who could afford a nominal fee. In places like Artane, they gave every boy in their care a trade so he could enter the outside world as everything from a baker to a farmer. They also turned out some of the finest musicians in the country.