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‘*that strength of feeling, great 
Beyond all human estimate !” 
we toiled up Helvellyn, through the heat of a long Midsummer 
day—June 18th, 1891—behind the sledge that, not without much 
difficulty, bore the record of “Fidelity” to the mountain top, we 
felt that the chains of love that bind man to the so-called brute 
creatures were stronger than had been thought of, and that the 
interchange of spirit between two worlds that seem so wide apart, 
was more possible than had been imagined. 
There on the wind-combed mountain-top, above the dreadful 
precipice where Gough perished, the haulers of stone, the worker of 
mortar, the builder of the memorial cairn worked hard for a couple 
of days, and left behind them in what has been called “the Temple 
of the Winds and of the Sun,” a stone that may with its simple 
tale, touch the hearts of passers-by, for generations to come, and 
stand a monument to an heroic vigil, and to the Fidelity and 
Love, no death could quench, of the humble “Friend of Man.” 
