Nothing more beautiful than the scene viewed from Muckross (“the place of wild swine”) can be imagined. Its woods and lawns form a large promontory, shooting far into the lake, which the wooded isles beyond seem almost to join, the water breaking and glancing between like tiny bays. Muckross Abbey Mansion stands in lovely grounds, which, fringing the slope to the water’s edge, form a beautiful shore to the lake.

The scene which this point commands is unrivalled—indeed, Torc lake (Torc, a wild boar) need fear no comparison. Toomies and Glena are opposite, so softly outlined by the beautiful waving forests which cling to their sides that their magnificent height is half forgotten. In contrast the hills which rise above the Eagle’s Nest are bare, broken, almost savage.

But if it is hard to convey by words an idea of scenery in general, more difficult is it with that of Killarney, so varied are the effects produced under its changeful skies,

Mr. Young, our English visitor of long ago, notices this much. In one place he observes: “Torc was obscured by the sun shining immediately above him, and, casting a stream of burning light on the water, displayed an effect to describe which the pencil of a Claude alone would be equal.”

The ruined Abbey of Muckross stands in the grounds of Muckross demesne, and was founded by a MacCarthy Mor in 1340, according to the Annals of the Four Masters, upon the site of a much older church, which was destroyed by fire. It was built for Conventual Franciscans, and was dedicated to the Holy Trinity. The original name was Irrelagh.

The two principal parts of the ruin are the convent and the church, the latter about 100 feet in length and 24 feet in breadth, the steeple standing between the nave and chancel, resting on four high and slender pointed arches.

The cloisters are in a very perfect state, consisting of a beautiful quadrangle of marble arches, some pointed, some with semicircular heads, enclosing a square, in the centre of which stands the great yew-tree, said to be as old as the Abbey itself. It rises to the height of 60 feet, its spreading branches overshadowing the cloisters and forming a canopy, impervious to the sun. The circumference of its trunk is 13 feet, and it is regarded with much awe because of a belief that anyone attempting to pluck a leaf or branch, or in any way injure this yew, will not be alive on that day twelve months.

The principal entrance is by a handsome Pointed doorway, from which is seen the great eastern window, with its simple, beautiful tracery. The space within is filled with tombs, many of them nameless. A large modern one in the centre of the choir covers a vault, where in ancient times were interred the MacCarthys, and, more lately, the O’Donoghues.

Close to this tomb is the slab which formerly covered the vault, without inscription, but bearing the arms of the Earl of Clancarty of the old creation, this title and that of Viscount Valentia being bestowed by Queen Elizabeth in 1565 on Donald MacCarthy Mor, the head of the elder branch of that great family. His haughty followers would none of it, and slighted the chieftain who had condescended, however grudgingly, to accept an honour at the hands of the Sassenach.

The dormitories, cellars, kitchens, refectories, etc., are in good preservation, but the upper rooms are unroofed. There is a great fireplace in the refectory, where once the monks kept good cheer. Very silent and deserted it is now, with the innumerable graves around.

The great Torc Cascade empties itself into Muckross Lake a little more than a mile from the Abbey. It comes from the Devil’s Punch Bowl, which it is worth ascending Mangerton to see. On the western side of the mountain is a small circular lake, about 600 yards in diameter across the top. From the brink, as you look downwards, there is a depth of nearly 300 yards. This is the Devil’s Punch Bowl. On the side next Muckross there is an immense perpendicular chasm, equal in depth to the height of the sides of the Bowl, into which its overflowings rush and are conveyed through a narrow channel, called the Devil’s Stream, to the shore of Muckross Lake, tumbling down the sides of the hill, nearly 200 feet, in a great cascade.

In the peninsula of Muckross is a mine, now disused, which, when worked by an English company in 1804, gave a large output of the finest copper ore.

There are many indications of mineral treasures yet to be discovered among the hills and glens of Killarney. When Dr. Berkeley was asked his opinion of Muckross at a time when Art was considered far superior to Nature, he replied: “The French monarch might possibly be able to create another Versailles, but could not, with all his revenues, lay out another Muckross.”