Fionnula Quinlan looks at nine Irish men and women who made their mark in historyPOETRY, peacemaking and physics have earned Irish men and women their place in the pantheon of Nobel Laureates.

John Hume and David Trimble, who shared the award in the heady days following the signing of the Good Friday Agreement, may be the best-known today.

But they were following in the footsteps of Sean MacBride and Betty Williams and Mairead Corrigan whose efforts to secure peace, both on Northern Ireland's bloodstained streets and across the globe, were recognised with the Nobel Peace Prize in the 1970s.

While many would stop short of calling these peacemakers saints, Ireland's scholars have garnered certain glory on the international stage.

WB Yeats, George Bernard Shaw, Samuel Beckett and Seamus Heaney were paid the ultimate tribute for their literary works, while Ernest Thomas Sinton Walton shared the Nobel Prize for physics in 1951.

Yeats was the first to be honoured in 1923: "For his always-inspired poetry, which in a highly artistic form gives expression to the spirit of a whole nation."

At the award ceremony, chairman of the Nobel Committee, Per Hallstrom, spoke of Yeats' genius.

"He has been able to follow the spirit that early appointed him the interpreter of his country, a country that had long waited for someone to bestow on it a voice. It is not too much to call such a life's work great."

Just two years later, it was George Bernard Shaw's turn to step up to the podium and accept the ultimate accolade: "For his work, which is marked by both idealism and humanity, its stimulating satire often being infused with a singular poetic beauty."

Mr Hallstrom praised him thus: "His ideas were those of a somewhat abstract logical radicalism; hence they were far from new, but they received from him a new definiteness and brilliance.

"In him these ideas combined with a ready wit, a complete absence of respect for any kind of convention, and the merriest humour - all gathered together in an extravagance which has scarcely ever before appeared in literature."

Ireland did not again feature on the Nobel Prize list until 1951, when Ernest Thomas Sinton Walton shared the prize for physics with British physicist, Sir John Douglas Cockcroft. Walton, who was born at Dungarvan, Co Waterford, was credited with unearthing a new and fertile domain of research into nuclear transmutations.

In presenting the prize to Walton and Cockroft, chairman of the Nobel Physics Committee, Prof Waller, said: "Their discoveries initiated a period of rapid development in nuclear physics. Indeed, this work may be said to have introduced a totally new epoch in nuclear research."

Irish literature again reigned supreme in 1969, when Samuel Beckett joined Yeats and Shaw on the list of Ireland's literary laureates.

Beckett's award was: "For his writing, which - in new forms for the novel and drama - in the destitution of modern man acquires its elevation."

Beckett, who lived much of his life in Paris and took part in the Resistance, made his name in French and did not return to his native tongue for 15 years.

His unorthodox life prompted Karl Ragnar Gierow of the Nobel Foundation to open his presentation speech with the words: "Mix a powerful imagination with a logic in absurdum, and the result will be either a paradox or an Irishman. If it is an Irishman, you will get the paradox into the bargain.

"Even the Nobel Prize in Literature is sometimes divided. Paradoxically, this has happened in 1969, a single award being addressed to one man, two languages and a third nation, itself divided."

Sean MacBride shared the 1974 peace prize with Japanese Prime Minister, Eisaku Sato. Ireland's struggle for independence and its inherent horrors are said to have marked the young MacBride deeply and driven his struggle for peace and respect for human rights.

But his efforts were not confined to his home country and he made the world his canvas. As Ireland's foreign minister between 1948 and 1951, he played pivotal role in the drafting of the European Convention on Human Rights, before becoming president of the International Board of Amnesty International.

In 1971 he became Secretary General of the International commission of Jurists, which was set up to record acts of injustice in Eastern Europe and was also active in the Peace Bureau.

Presenting the prize in 1974, chairwoman of the Nobel Committee Aase Lionaes said: "For over 20 years MacBride has occupied a central position in the work of promoting the cause of human rights. That respect for human rights is growing, despite all that we know still remains to be done, is due not least to the endeavours of MacBride."

The Nobel Peace Prize of 1976 went to two very ordinary women who salvaged something extraordinary from the terrifying treadmill of brutality and murder in Northern Ireland.

On August 10, 1976, three young children were cut down when the driver of a getaway car was shot and the car careered out of control.

Betty Williams, a housewife living nearby, heard the thud of the car, their mother's screams and took in the devastation. In that second, the cup of horrors overflowed in Mrs Williams' mind and she began to knock on neighbours' doors in an effort to rally support for a peace movement.

She was joined by the children's aunt, Mairead Corrigan and the Peace Movement of Northern Ireland was born.

Paying tribute to two brave women, Nobel Committee vice-chairman Egil Aarvik said: "They never heeded the difficulty of their task: they merely tackled it because they were so convinced that this precisely was what was needed.

"There was no talk here of ingenious theories, of shrewd diplomacy or pompous declarations. No, their contribution was a far better one: a courageous, unselfish act that proved an inspiration to thousands, that lit a light in the darkness, and that gave fresh hope to people who believed that all hope was gone."

In 1998, Northern Ireland was again centre stage, but when John Hume and David Trimble took to the stage on December 10 of that year, the climate was one of hope and healing.

In his speech, John Hume acknowledged the 30 years of unremitting horror had left 3,500 people dead, but signalled the way forward.

"In the past 30 years of our conflict there have been many moments of deep depression and outright horror. Many people wondered whether the words of W.B Yeats might come true: 'Too long a sacrifice can make a stone of the heart.'

"And so, the challenge now is to grasp and shape history: to show that past grievances and injustices can give way to a new generosity of spirit and action. I want to see Ireland as an example to men and women everywhere of what can be achieved by living for ideals, rather than fighting for them, and by viewing each and every person as worthy of respect and honour."

In a speech which resonated with a hope, often lacking today, Trimble said: "There are hills in Northern Ireland and there are mountains. The hills are decommissioning and policing. But the mountain, if we could but see it clearly, is not in front of us but behind us, in history.

"The dark shadow we seem to see in the distance is not really a mountain ahead, but the shadow of the mountain behind - a shadow from the past thrown forward into our future. It is a dark sludge of historical sectarianism. We can leave it behind us if we wish.

"Sometimes we will stumble, maybe even go back a bit. But this need not matter if in the spirit of an old Irish proverb we say to ourselves, 'Tomorrow is another day'."