His very face had recovered its old look, and his voice its old tone.
There could be no doubt of this soul had rebloomed in the life of God.

The last night came--they sent for me with the message,

"Come quickly! he is dying."

I found him with that look which I have seen on the faces of others who
were nearing death--a radiance and a rapture that awed the beholder. O
solemn, awful mystery of death! I have stood in its presence in every
form of terror and of sweetness, and in every case the thought has been
impressed upon me that it was a passage into the Great Realities.

"Doctor," he said, smiling, and holding my hand; "I had hoped to be with
you in your office again, as in the old days--not as a business
arrangement, but just to be with you, and revive old memories, and to
live the old life over again. But that cannot be, and I must wait till
we meet in the world of spirits, whither I go before you. It seems to be
growing dark. I cannot see your face hold my hand. I am going--going. I
am on the waves--on the waves--." The radiance was still upon his
face, but the hand I held no longer clasped mine-the wasted form was
still. It was the end. He was launched upon the Infinite Sea for the
endless voyage.



The Emperor Norton.

That was his title. He wore it with an air that was a strange mixture of
the mock-heroic and the pathetic. He was mad on this one point, and