Enda divided Aran Mor into two parts; one-half he assigned to his own monastery of Killeany; the other or western half he assigned to such of his disciples as chose to erect permanent religious houses in the island. This, however, seems to have been a later arrangement, for at first it is said that he had 150 disciples under his own care; but when the establishment grew to be thus large in numbers, he divided the whole island into ten parts--each having its own religious house, and its own superior, while he himself retained a general superintendence over them all. The existing remains prove conclusively that there must have been several distinct establishments on the island, for we find separate groups of ruins at Killeany, at Killronan, at Kilmurvey, and further west at "The Seven Churches." The islanders still retain many vivid and interesting traditions of the saints and their churches. Fortunately, too, we have other aids also to confirm these traditions, and identify the founders or patrons of the existing ruins. The life of Enda and his monks was simple and austere. The day was divided into periods for prayer, labour, and sacred study. Each community had its own church and its village of stone cells in which they slept either on the bare ground or on a bundle of straw covered with a rug, but always in the clothes worn by day. They assembled for their devotions in the church or oratory of the saint, under whose immediate care they were placed; they took their frugal meals in a common refectory, and cooked their food in a common kitchen--for they had no fires in the stone cells however cold--if cold could be felt by these hearts so glowing with the love of God. They invariably carried out the monastic rule of procuring their own food by labour. Some fished around the islands; others cultivated patches of oats or barley in sheltered spots between the rocks. Others ground it with the quern, like Ciaran, or kneaded the meal into bread, and baked it for the use of the brethren. They could have no fruit on these islands, nor wine or mead, nor flesh meat, except perhaps a little for the sick. Sometimes on the great festivals, or when guests of distinction came to the island, one of their tiny sheep was killed, and then the brethren were allowed to share, if they chose, in the good cheer provided for the visitors. Enda himself never tasted flesh meat, and we have reason to believe that many of his monks followed the saint's example. Yet their lives were full of sunny hope and true happiness. That desert island was a paradise for those children of God; its arid rocks were to them as a garden of delights; the sunlight on its summer seas was a bright picture of heavenly joys; and the roar of its wintry billows reminded them of the power and of the wrath of God. So they passed their blameless lives living only for God, and waiting not in fear, but in hope, for the happy hour when their Heavenly Father would call them home.