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right, and opposite to it, the first sheet of water is lost among
the rocks and wood, in a beautiful manner. Bleakhow-crag, a
ruinous rock, and over it, Castle-crag, a staring shattered rock,
have a formidable appearance; and above all is seen Kidstow-pike,
on whose summit the clouds weep into a crater of rock that is
never empty. On the eastern side, a front of prominent rock
bulges out into a solemn naked mass, and a waving cataract
descends the furrowed side of a soft green hill. The contrast is
fine - At Bleakhow-crag there is a pleasing back view.
Above the chapel, all is hopeless waste and desolation. The
little vale contracts into a glen, strewed with the precipitated
ruins of mouldering mountains, and the destruction of perpetual
water-falls.
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Kendal is fourteen miles from the chapel, and whoever chooses an
Alpine ride, may proceed to it up this vale. From the chapel to
the top of the mountains is three miles, and the descent into
Long-Sleddale is as much more. In approaching the mountain,
Harter-fell scowls forward in all the terrific grandeur of
hanging rock. As you advance, a yawning chasm appears to divide
it upwards from the base, and within it is heard the hoarse noise
of ingulphed waters. The tumult of cataracts and water-falls on
all sides,
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