to Froude the assurance that possibly he, too, had
"Builded better than he knew,"
that very possibly the angry Anglican hierarchy had merely mistaken a Church colic for a universal cataclysm.
These two recalcitrants never touched hands, albeit the 'steam bridges' were both commodious and convenient. Their perigeum occurred during Froude's much later visit to Emerson, and it was in Sleepy Hollow burying-ground; but that perihelion was sadly incomplete: six feet of graveyard mould and death, the mystery of mysteries, intervened. For both of them now, no more of that mystery. Oh, the boon of 'crossing the bar'!
