It was a curious
idiosyncrasy that led this man, when fortune and reason were swept away
at a stroke, to fall back upon this imaginary imperialism. The nature
that could thus, when the real fabric of life was wrecked, construct
such another by the exercise of a disordered imagination, must have been
originally of a gentle and magnanimous type. The broken fragments of
mind, like those of a statue, reveal the quality of the original
creation. It may be that he was happier than many who have worn real
crowns. Napoleon at Chiselhurst, or his greater uncle at St. Helena,
might have been gainer by exchanging lots with this man, who had the
inward joy of conscious greatness without its burden and its perils. To
all public places he had free access, and no pageant was complete
without his presence. From time to time he issued proclamations, signed
"Norton I.," which the lively San Francisco dailies were always ready to
print conspicuously in their columns. The style of these proclamations
was stately, the royal first person plural being used by him with all
gravity and dignity. Ever and anon, as his uniform became dilapidated or
ragged, a reminder of the condition of the imperial wardrobe would be
given in one or more of the newspapers, and then in a few days he would
appear in a new suit.
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