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rock, in foaming torrent, hurling huge fragments of them to the
vale, that make the mountains tremble to their fall. The hollow
noise swells and dies upon the ear by turns. The scenes are
astonishing, and the succession of them matchless. At Rydal-hall
are two cascades worthy of notice. One is a little above the
house, to which Sir Michael le Fleming made a convenient path,
that brings you upon it all at once. This is a mighty torrent
tumbling headlong, and uninterruptedly, from an immense height of
rock, into the rocky bason below, shaking the mountain under you
with its fall, and the air above with the rebound. It is a
surprising scene. This gentleman's example, in opening a road to
the fall, recommends itself strongly to others of this country,
which abounds with so many noble objects of curiosity, and which
all travellers of the least taste would visit with pleasure,
could they do it with convenience and safety.
The other cascade is a smaller fall of water, seen through the
window of the summer-house, in Sir Michael's orchard [1]. The
first who brought this sweet scene to light, is the elegant and
learned editor of Mr. Gray's letters. And as no one described
these views
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