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reception he met with in the humble cottage which his brother poet then 
inhabited on the banks of Grasmere; and at least one of the days they spent 
together was destined to furnish a theme for the verse of each, namely that 
which they gave to the ascent of Helvellyn, where, in the course of the pre- 
ceding spring, a young gentleman having lost his way and perished by falling 
over a precipice, his remains were discovered, three months afterwards, still 
watched by ‘a faithful terrier-bitch, his constant attendant during frequent 
rambles among the wilds.” This day they were accompanied by an illustrious 
philosopher, who was also a true poet—and might have been one of the greatest 
of poets had he chosen; and I have heard Mr. Wordsworth say, that it 
would be difficult to express the feelings with which he, who so often had 
climbed Helvellyn alone, found himself standing on its summit with two such 
men as Scott and Davy.” 
But it was not only Scott and Wordsworth who had been 
touched to the heart by the faithfulness of Gough’s dog. Ryan, 
in his “Poetry and Poets,” tells us, as a prefatory note to the 
poem “Helvellyn,” that Walter Scott and Campbell walking 
together and speaking of this incident each agreed in the spirit of 
amiable rivalship to make it the subject of a poem. Scott on his 
way home composed the following exquisite lines, which he sent 
next day to Campbell, who returned them with this reply :—“I 
confess myself vanquished. If I were to live a thousand years 
I could never write anything equal to this on the same subject ? 
and he never attempted it. 
Wordsworth was evidently struck by Scott’s poem, for after 
telling us that Scott and he without either of them knowing that the 
other had taken up the subject, had written a poem in admiration 
of the dog’s fidelity, added, “his contains a most beautiful stanza— 
‘ How long didst thou think that his silence was slumber ? 
When the wind waved his garment how oft didst thou start?’ ” 
The subject was touched on by minor poets also. Thomas 
Wilkinson of Yanwath—whose spade Wordsworth once apostro- 
phised—speaks thus in a poem entitled “‘Eamont Vale” :— 
‘¢ The moon had thrice revolvéd through the sky, 
When a lone shepherd heard a wailful cry 
Far in Helvellyn. Following the sound, 
The dog, the robes, the owner’s name were found, 
