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Updated: May 3, 2025
After rest he has energy, after energy he needs repose; so, when we have given instruction for a time, we need instruction, and must receive it or the spirit faints and wisdom herself grows bitter. Therefore Finnian said: "Tell me now about yourself, dear heart." But Tuan was avid of information about the True God.
"I have heard that the first-born were mindless," said Finnian. "Continue your story, my beloved." "Then, sudden as a rising wind, between one night and a morning, there came a sickness that bloated the stomach and purpled the skin, and on the seventh day all of the race of Partholon were dead, save one man only." "There always escapes one man," said Finnian thoughtfully.
"A powerful person!" said Finnian. "All that," was the reply. "We shall try this person's power," said Finnian. "He is reputed to be a wise and hardy man," said his informant. "We shall test his wisdom and his hardihood." "He is," that gossip whispered "he is a magician." "I will magician him," cried Finnian angrily. "Where does that man live?"
Others came to share his poverty and vigils; a grant of land was then obtained from the ruling chief, the holy man became abbot and his followers his monks; and a religious community was formed destined soon to acquire fame. It was thus that St. Finnian established Clonard on the banks of the Boyne, and St. Kieran, Clonmacnois by the waters of the Shannon; and thus did St.
"And now," said Finnian, "you will be born again, for I shall baptize you into the family of the Living God." So far the story of Tuan, the son of Cairill. No man knows if he died in those distant ages when Finnian was Abbot of Moville, or if he still keeps his fort in Ulster, watching all things, and remembering them for the glory of God and the honour of Ireland.
But the Ulster gentleman refused Finnian admittance. He barricaded his house, he shuttered his windows, and in a gloom of indignation and protest he continued the practices of ten thousand years, and would not hearken to Finnian calling at the window or to Time knocking at his door. But of those adversaries it was the first he redoubted.
Now Finnian could not abide that any person should resist both the Gospel and himself, and he proceeded to force the stronghold by peaceful but powerful methods. He fasted on the gentleman, and he did so to such purpose that he was admitted to the house; for to an hospitable heart the idea that a stranger may expire on your doorstep from sheer famine cannot be tolerated.
In the Finnian legend, the great Finn McCool, when much puzzled in the choice of a wife, seated himself on its summit. At last he decided to make himself a prize in a competition of all the fair women in Ireland. They should start at the foot of the mountain, and the one who first reached the summit should be the great Finn's bride.
But Finnian was not one who remained long in bewilderment. He thought on the might of God and he became that might, and was tranquil. He was one who loved God and Ireland, and to the person who could instruct him in these great themes he gave all the interest of his mind and the sympathy of his heart. "It is a wonder you tell me, my beloved," he said. "And now you must tell me more."
Finnian loomed on him as a portent and a terror; but he had no fear of Time. Indeed he was the foster-brother of Time, and so disdainful of the bitter god that he did not even disdain him; he leaped over the scythe, he dodged under it, and the sole occasions on which Time laughs is when he chances on Tuan, the son of Cairill, the son of Muredac Red-neck.
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