“Let the world slide, let the world go, A fig for care, and a fig for woe! If I can’t pay, why I can owe, And death makes equal the high and low.” Testamentary Capacity The following was copied a short time ago from a legal journal: a stranger on horseback was passing through a country village; a church was being moved, and he asked a resident the reason; the latter answered: “Well, stranger, I’m mayor of these here diggin’s, an’ I’m fer law enforcement. We’ve got an ordenance what says no saloon shall be nearer than three hundred feet to a church. I give ’em jest three days to move the church.” I mean no disrespect in linking this decision of the Mayor with that of the Supreme Court of one of our great Western States. That Supreme Court recently handed down a decision on testamentary capacity. It would seem that extreme mental obliquity is not a bar to will-making: here is the syllabus in the case: “That where the testator used excessive amounts of a patent kidney medicine and recommended it to his friends for all kinds of diseases; manifested a hitherto unknown desire to make political speeches, and was positive in his utterances that certain candidates should not be permitted to run for office, and that Bryan was not honest and McKinley was not fit to be President, and that he could make a better President than McKinley; got up at night and sang Psalms; took his dogs and went hunting at night, though he got no game, and had not in former years been known to hunt; exhibited his stallion and other stock at church meetings, and failed to recognize acquaintances; carried on disconnected conversations, had a roaring in his head, used coal oil in his ears, and poured coal oil on trees and when it killed them said he had no sense,—neither these eccentricities nor other peculiarities like them show a want of capacity to make a will. This testator was a being of a high order of reasoning as compared with many such cases to be met with. Old Diogenes said: “Most men are within a finger’s breadth of being mad; for if a man walk with his middle finger pointing out, folk will think him mad, but not so if it be his forefinger.” Ordinary mortals are very strict in measuring craziness: even a slight divergence from the normal standard, or their standard of normality, causes them to adjudge their neighbors crazy: the courts are, however, much more lenient in their judgments in dealing with matters testamentary, and seem inclined to the view that all men are sane, only some are less so: or, as the Kentuckian says of a certain liquid produced in his State, “It’s all good but some better than others”; in fact, that weird performances and peculiar actions are indications of individuality and not of mental incapacity. The Supreme Court of North Carolina has decided that while a failure to go to church is a moral delinquency, yet it does not unfit a man to make a will. The Supreme Court of New York has decided that though one believe in all the abominations and wanton rites of ancient Greece and Rome, and in sincerity worship Egypt’s wandering gods, disguised in brutish form, or, like the Hindoo, stand for a lifetime on one leg to secure salvation, or be yet a howling dervish, and rave and gash his naked body, thinking he is doing God service, yet he may be able to transact the affairs of life or dispose suitably of his property. Any number of individuals have been accused of inability to make their last wills on account of an inclination to hunt for hidden treasures. One such in New York State took with her her nephew, and had him carry a red rooster under his arm for good luck, and they dug diligently, but found no gold. She left gold, however, but not so apportioned as to suit her relatives, and a will contest followed. Another person bandaged his face with handkerchiefs, to prevent false impressions being made on his mind: probably he did not succeed, yet his will was sustained. One gentleman charged his wife with putting tongs in his bed to make him uneasy. Whether hot or cold tongs, is not stated by the decision of the Supreme Court of Connecticut; but the Court did decide that such an offence was more often chargeable to the heart than to the head. A belief in perpetual motion, and a denial of the revolution of the earth on its axis, and assertions that “the sun do move,” have Frequent efforts have been made to show that marriage late in life was evidence of insanity, but always unsuccessfully. The Supreme Court of Connecticut held that it was a perfectly natural trait for the aged to tell favorite stories and to embellish them a little more or less, as fancy prompted. A woman’s fondness for gossip, and the constant changing of her mind in regard to the arrangement of the house she was building and the color of paints used for it, were insufficient reasons for setting aside her will: on the contrary, the Court intimated that it was perfectly natural that she should change her mind and that the workmen should be scolded. Certain it is, that one feature of this decision has long been sustained by custom. The same Court, the Supreme Court of Michigan, decided that a disposition on the part of an individual to give his services to the United States Government in the management of its financial affairs, did not necessarily show insanity, and added that if it did, most of us would not escape. So, after contemplating some of these peculiar and generally uncomfortable departures from the straight line of human conduct, one feels that Dryden spoke by the card when he said, “There is a pleasure sure in being mad which none but madmen know.” Practical Suggestions for Writing Wills Mr. John Marshall Gest, a prominent member of the Philadelphia Bar, delivered an address to the students of the Law School of the University of Pennsylvania, October 17th, 1907, on “Practical Suggestions for Writing Wills.” It is by far the most entertaining and erudite composition the author has ever read on the subject. It can be found in the American Law Register for November, 1907, Volume 55, No. 8. Mr. Gest opens his address in the following words: “Every man who knows how to write thinks he knows how to write a will, and long may this happy hallucination possess the minds of our lay brethren, for surely St. Ives, the Patron Saint of lawyers, extends to none a heartier welcome in the life beyond than to the Jolly Testator who makes his own Will.” Too little is recorded of this Patron Saint of the legal profession. The author offers the following information concerning him: Over in France, on its western shore, is a peninsula, the province of Bretagne, or Brittany, and on its rock-bound coast the waves of the Atlantic forever beat; it derives its name from the fact that during early history, the inhabitants of Great Britain, in times of local strife, left their native country, and went to Brittany to reside. This province is one of the most interesting portions of Europe, being rich in history and Celtic ruins, and its landscapes are said to be surprisingly beautiful; its people still retain their ancient language and customs. In the year 1253, there was born in Brittany, of a noble family, one Yves-Helori, who is recognized the world over as the Patron Saint of lawyers; he espoused the cause of the orphan, the widow, and the poor; he was greatly honored by his countrymen, and was canonized by Clement VI at Avignon; many monuments have been erected and hymns written to perpetuate his virtues and his memory; he died at the age of fifty years, and on a tablet in one of the churches of Brittany are these words in Latin: “St. Ives was of Brittany; He was a lawyer, and not a robber, At which the people wondered.” Following the opening words of his address, Mr. Gest says: “But with deference to amateur lawyers, it is by no means easy to draw a proper will. Lord Coke said, in Butler and Baker’s case, one which had been argued twenty-one times, “I find great doubts and controversies daily arise on devises made by last wills, in respect of obscure and insensible words and repugnant sentences, the will being made in haste, and some pretend that the testator in respect of extreme pain was not compos mentis and divers other scruples and questions are moved upon wills. But if you please to devise your lands by will, make it by good advice in your perfect memory and inform your Counsel truly of the estates and tenures of your land, and by God’s Grace the resolution of the Judges in this case will be a good direction to learned counsel to make your will according to law and thereby prevent questions and controversies.” “For some three centuries,” adds Mr. Gest, “this sound advice has been open to him who would read it, and yet testators have such a reluctance to pay a fee to a lawyer, that they will draw their wills themselves, sometimes with the assistance of Dunlap, or have them, as Lord Coke says in the preface to the second Sir Edward Coke died in 1634; as is well known, he was one of the Chief Justices of England. His ardent support of liberal measures in Parliament, especially the right of Freedom of Debate, brought him into trouble, and he suffered nine months’ imprisonment in the Tower of London. He had great popularity, and his utterances and courage did much to contribute to the final result in the struggle between the Crown and Commons. His books are still regarded as authoritative treatises on English Law. A Last Will The following prose poem was written by Mr. Williston Fish, a prominent lawyer of Chicago, Illinois: Mr. Fish still resides in Chicago. The will is a sentimental and purely fanciful creation: it first appeared in “Harper’s Weekly” in 1898, and is reproduced here by permission of Messrs. Harper and Brothers. The will has become one of the classics of American literature, and has been published and republished by newspapers and magazines throughout the English-speaking world. The original from the pen of Mr. Fish varies slightly from the copy here given, this production having been embellished somewhat by various editors. It has sometimes been designated as the “Insane Man’s Will,” and Mr. Fish has been deluged with inquiries on the subject: the history given above, however, is based on personal investigation made by the author. “He was stronger and cleverer, no doubt, than other men, and in many broad lines of business he had grown rich, until his wealth exceeded exaggeration. One morning, in his office, he directed a request to his confidential lawyer to come to him in the afternoon. He intended to have his will drawn. A will is a solemn matter, even with men whose lives are given up to business, and who are by habit mindful of the future. After giving this direction he took up no other matter, but sat at his desk alone and in silence. “It was a day when summer was first new. The pale leaves upon the trees were starting forth upon the still unbending branches. The grass in the parks had a freshness in its green like the freshness of the blue in the sky and of the yellow of the sun—a freshness to make one wish that life might renew its youth. The clear breezes from the south wantoned about, and then were still, as if loath to go finally away. Half idly, half thoughtfully, the rich “I, Charles Lounsbury, being of sound mind and disposing memory, do hereby make and publish this my last will and testament, in order as justly as may be to distribute my interest in the world among succeeding men. “That part of my interest which is known in law and recognized in the sheep-bound volumes as my property, being inconsiderable and of no account, I make no disposal of in this my will. “My right to live, being but a life estate, is not at my disposal, but these things excepted all else in the world I now proceed to devise and bequeath: “Item: I give to good fathers and mothers, in trust for their children, all good little words of praise and encouragement, and all quaint pet names and endearments, and I charge said parents to use them justly and generously, as the needs of their children may require. “Item: I leave to children inclusively, but only for the term of their childhood, all and every, the flowers of the fields and the blossoms of the woods, with the right to play among them freely, according to the customs of children, warning them at the same time against thistles and thorns. And I devise to children the banks of the brooks, and the golden sands beneath the waters thereof, and the odors of the willows that dip therein, and the white clouds that float high over the giant trees. And I leave the children the long, long days to be merry in, in a thousand ways, and the night and the moon and the train of the Milky Way to wonder at, but subject nevertheless to the rights hereinafter given to lovers. “Item: I devise to boys jointly all the useful idle fields and commons where ball may be played; all pleasant waters where one may swim; all snow-clad hills where one may coast and all streams and ponds where one may fish, or where, when grim Winter comes, one may skate; to have and to hold the same for the period of their boyhood. And all meadows with the clover blossoms and butterflies thereof, the woods and their appurtenances, the squirrels and birds, and echoes and strange noises, and all distant places which may be visited, together with the adventures there found, and I give to said boys each his own place at the fireside at night, with all pictures that may be seen in the burning wood, to enjoy without let or hindrance, and without any incumbrance of care. “Item: I give and bequeath to girls all beauty and gentleness; and to them I give the crown of purity and innocence which is theirs by right of birth and sex; and also in due season the abiding love of brave and generous husbands, and the divine trust of motherhood. “Item: To young men jointly I devise and bequeath all boisterous, inspiring sports of rivalry, and I give to them the disdain of weakness and undaunted confidence in their own strength, though they are rude. I give them the power to make lasting friendships and of possessing companions, and to them exclusively I give all merry songs and brave choruses, to sing with lusty voices. “Item: To lovers, I devise their imaginary world, with whatever they may need, as the stars of the sky, the red roses by the wall, the bloom of the hawthorn, the sweet strains of music, and aught else by which they may desire to figure to each other the lastingness and beauty of their love. “Item: And to those who are no longer children or youths or lovers, I leave memory, and I bequeath to them the volumes of the poems of Burns and Shakespeare and of other poets, if there be others, to the end that they may live over the old days again, freely and fully, without tithe or diminution. “Item: To our loved ones with snowy crowns I bequeath the happiness of old age, the love and gratitude of their children, until they fall asleep.” The Lawyer’s Best Friend A hundred years ago, English lawyers, when dining together, used to drink to the health of “The Schoolmaster,” for schoolmasters then often drew up wills for people, and by their ignorance of legal technicalities gave the gentlemen of the long robe much remunerative business. “To the lawyers’ best friend—the man who makes his own will,” was also a regular toast at dinners of the Bar. The following poem is inscribed to the legal profession: THE JOLLY TESTATOR WHO MAKES HIS OWN WILL “Ye lawyers who live upon litigants’ fees, And who need a good many to live at your ease; Grave or gay, wise or witty, whate’er your degree, Plain stuff or State’s Counsel, take counsel of me:— When a festive occasion your spirit unbends, You should never forget the profession’s best friends: To the jolly testator who makes his own will. “He premises his wish and his purpose to save All dispute among friends when he’s laid in his grave; Then he straightway proceeds more disputes to create Than a long summer’s day would give time to relate. He writes and erases, he blunders and blots, He produces such puzzles and Gordian knots, That a lawyer intending to frame the thing ill, Couldn’t match the testator who makes his own will. “Testators are good, but a feeling more tender Springs up when I think of the feminine gender! The testatrix for me, who, like Telemaque’s mother, Unweaves at one time what she wove at another. She bequeathes, she repeats, she recalls a donation, And ends by revoking her own revocation; Still scribbling or scratching some new codicil, Oh! success to the woman who makes her own will. “’Tisn’t easy to say, ’mid her varying vapors, What scraps should be deemed testamentary papers. ’Tisn’t easy from these her intention to find, When perhaps she herself never knew her own mind. Every step that we take, there arises fresh trouble:— Is the legacy lapsed? Is it single or double? No customer brings so much grist to the mill, As the wealthy old woman who makes her own will. “The law decides questions of meum and tuum, By kindly consenting to make the thing suum, The Æsopian fable instructively tells, What becomes of the oysters, and who gets the shells. The legatees starve, but the lawyers are fed; The Seniors have riches, the Juniors have bread; The available surplus of course will be nil, From the worthy testator who makes his own will. “You had better pay toll when you take to the road, Than attempt by a by-way to reach your abode; You had better employ a conveyancer’s hand, Than encounter the risk that your will shouldn’t stand. From the broad beaten track when the traveler strays, He may land in a bog, or be lost in a maze; And the law, when defied, will avenge itself still, On the man and the woman who make their own will.” Ingersoll on Decoration Day Robert G. Ingersoll died at Dobbs Ferry, New York, July 21, 1899. He left no will. A number of his great speeches were funeral orations. The following extract from an address made on Decoration Day to the Soldiers at Indianapolis, Indiana, is regarded as the most touching example of imagery and vision to be found in English literature: “The past rises before me like a dream. Again we are in the great struggle for national life. We hear the sound of preparation—the music of the boisterous drums, the silver voices of heroic bugles. We see thousands of assemblages, and hear the appeals of orators; we see the pale cheeks of women and the flushed faces of men; and in those assemblages we see all the dead whose dust we have covered with flowers. We lose sight of them no more. We are with them when they enlist in the great army of freedom. We see them part from those they love. Some are walking for the last time in quiet woody places with the maidens they adore. We hear the whisperings and the sweet vows of eternal love as they lingeringly part forever. Others are bending over cradles, kissing babies that are asleep. Some are receiving the blessings of old men. Some are parting who hold them and press them to their hearts again and again, and say nothing; and some are talking with wives, and endeavoring with brave words spoken in the old tones to drive from their hearts the awful fear. We see them part. We see the wife standing in the door, with the babe in her arms—standing in the sunlight sobbing; at the turn of the road a hand waves—she answers by holding high in her loving hands the child. He is gone—and forever.” Elegy on a Wife A tender and touching tribute to a deceased wife by Mr. Mitchell Kennerley, of New York, is contained in “Thysia, an Elegy”; this beautiful little volume was issued about a year ago, and is one of the profoundest utterances of grief appearing in print in recent years. The lines below are taken from the poem “Alone,” which is typical of the contents of the volume: ALONE “The bier, the bell, the grave, silence, and night; And you are laid in that cold ground, and gone. I hardly missed my love till now;—O light Of my worn, weary life, dark, dark, alone, Blindly I feel your empty pillowed place; O sacred head, luxuriant hair, and arm Through the dim hours linked in some dear embrace, Lips pressed to mine, and bosom beating warm, Breath, than the evening breath of heaven more sweet, Words faltering, passion-mixed, or sighed with prayer, Shy, soft caresses of the hand, to greet Or tell some passing need, or gentle care— O love, all these have been; ah, woe is me, For you are gone, and these no more shall be. A MEMORY “I think the gentle soul of him Goes softly in some garden place, With the old smile time may not dim Upon his face. “He was a lover of the spring, With love that never quite forgets, Surely sees roses blooming And violets. “Now that his day of toil is through, I love to think he sits at ease, With some old volume that he knows Upon his knees. “Watching, perhaps, with quiet eyes The white clouds’ drifting argosy; Or twilight opening flower-wise On land and sea. “He who so loved companionship I may not think walks quite alone, Failing some friendly hand to slip Within his own. “Those whom he loved aforetime, still, I doubt not, bear him company; I think that laughter yet may thrill Where he may be. “A thought, a fancy—who may tell? Yet I who ever pray it so Feel through my tears that all is well And this I know. “That God is gentle to His guest, And, therefore, may I gladly say, Feel through my tears ’tis for the best, On this sad day.” Will of Margaret Haughery The first monument erected to a woman in this country was that to the memory of Margaret Haughery. The monument stands in Margaret Place, not far from Canal Street in the City of New Orleans. The figure is that of a woman sitting in a rustic chair, dressed in a plain skirt and loose sack, with a simple shawl thrown over her shoulders, her arm encircling a child. Prior to her death and by her last will she gave to charitable institutions of the city of New Orleans about six hundred thousand dollars. She died in 1882. Her parents were Irish immigrants, who died of yellow fever. When quite young she married an Irishman of her own rank, who also died shortly after the marriage, and a year thereafter she lost her only child. The childless widow became a laundress in the St. Charles Hotel, and afterward entered into the bakery business, in which she was eminently successful. Her whole life was devoted to charities, Catholic, Protestant, and Hebrew alike. She never learned to read or write, and could not distinguish one figure from another. Her will is signed with a mark. The fund for the monument was obtained by popular subscription. Her funeral sermon was preached by the Archbishop; the business of the city was stopped, and a thousand orphans representing every asylum occupied seats of honor. Will of John Ericsson John Ericsson built the Monitor and other engines of destruction, but the rattle of drays, the crowing of cocks, and the barking of dogs were too much for his nerves. There is in existence a receipt for five dollars paid to one Charles Herbert for the removal of a dog and the agreement not to keep one on his premises Ericsson died March 8, 1889. His will is dated the 15th day of May, 1878. On November 7, 1884, he wrote to a friend in Sweden as follows: “They imagine in Sweden that I now possess a large fortune, not considering what it has cost me to be useful to my fellow-men. They do not know that for twenty years, during which time I have spent a million crowns, I have not worked for money.” His fortune at the time of his death amounted to about one hundred thousand dollars, and his claims against the United States Government were required to make good the bequests in his will. These were distributed among his office assistants, female dependents, certain friends, Von Rosen, Adlersparre, the widow of his son Hjalmar, and his nephews and nieces. The instrument is of considerable length, and he describes himself as John Ericsson, Civil Engineer, of the city of New York. In a codicil to his will, he mentions his share of the profits and emoluments that might arise from the manufacture and sale of his patents that might thereafter be granted by the United States for improvements in engines. These engines are described as two motive engines, designated as a solar engine and a sun motor. “Men of genius,” said Dean Stanley over the grave of Charles Dickens, “are different from what we suppose them to be. They have greater pleasures and greater pains, greater affections and greater temptations than the generality of mankind, and they can never be altogether understood by their fellowmen.” “Genius implies always a certain fanaticism of temperament,” says James Russell Lowell. Mr. William Conant Church, in his life of Ericsson, concludes his work with these words: “Let us, in spite of his own doubts, accept the cheerful faith of his friend Adlersparre, that assigns to him a kindlier sphere beyond, where just appreciation and intelligent sympathy may stimulate him to still higher efforts. So ends the story of John Ericsson, the son of Olaf, the son of Nils, the son of Eric, the son of Magnus Stadig, the miner.” The Baltimore, an American warship, under command of Captain Schley, conveyed the remains of Ericsson to Sweden, flying on her foremast a white, square flag with five blue crosses, indicating that she was on King’s business and must not be halted or interfered with on her journey. Henry Swinburne Henry Swinburne was an ecclesiastical lawyer, born at York, England, in 1560, and died in 1623. He was educated at Oxford. He wrote “A briefe Treatise of Testaments and last Willes,” which was first published in London in 1590 and passed through many editions, the last one appearing in three volumes in 1803. The book is a rare one at this time, being one of the earliest written on the subject of wills. It was formerly much consulted and greatly valued. Swinburne was an entertaining writer; he mentions the case of a monk, who came to a dying gentleman to make his will. The monk asked the gentleman if he would give such a manor and lordship to his monastery; the gentleman answered yea: then if he would give such and such estates to such and such pious uses. The gentleman answered yea, again. The heir at law, observing the covetousness of the monk and that the estate would be taken from him, asked the testator if the monk was not a very knave, and he again answered yea: and this last answer having been reported to the Court, the instrument was adjudged no will. A Friend of Charles Dickens By his will, dated May 8th, 1868, Mr. H. F. Chorley, an English critic and author who died in 1872, bequeathed to his friend, Charles Dickens, of Gad’s Hill place, £50 for a ring as a token from one greatly helped by him. An annuity of £200 he gave to Mary, the eldest daughter of Dickens. A Place for Everything Mr. Justice Dean once remarked in a will case before him: “In what particular or inappropriate place an elderly lady, or, for that matter, a young one, will put articles or writings of value, is hard to even guess.” Poverty and Riches Of the poor man, it has been written: “He may make his will upon his nail for anything he has to give.” Bulwer says, “A will is wealth’s last caprice. The Legality of a Mass In England, masses are held to be superstitious and unlawful: in the United States, opinions are divided: in most of the States of the Union, bequests for the purposes of masses are valid; in others, however, they are looked upon as an attempt to create a private trust for the benefit of the deceased, without any one to enforce it, and consequently invalid. It may be said that the decisions holding the latter view are not very numerous. Religious Bequests Forbidden The State of Mississippi has a statute which absolutely forbids bequests, legacies and devises to religious and ecclesiastical bodies; it reads: “Every legacy, gift, or bequest, of money or personal property, or of any interest, benefit or use therein, either direct, implied, or otherwise, contained in any last will and testament, or codicil, in favor of any religious or ecclesiastical corporation, sole or aggregate, or any religious or ecclesiastical society, or to any religious denomination or association, either for its own use or benefit, or for the purpose of being given or appropriated to charitable uses, shall be null and void, and the distributees shall take the property as though no such testamentary disposition had been made.” Under the laws of the State of Ohio, testamentary gifts for benevolent, religious, educational or charitable purposes, as against issue, are void, unless the will be executed at least one year before the decease of the testator. In the District of Columbia, and in the states of Georgia, Idaho, Maryland, Montana, Nevada, New Hampshire, New Mexico, New York, Pennsylvania and Washington, are also to be found laws restricting gifts for religious or charitable purposes. In the Pocket of an Old Dress Some five years ago, a young girl about seventeen years old came to a lawyer in a Western city and asked him if he had drawn her grandmother’s will. She was a kittenish little person, such as one would think lived on cakes and chocolate. When told it had been drawn, she notified the lawyer that her grandmother had just died of apoplexy. He then informed her that her grandmother had called a few days before and taken the will with the From Father to Son The late William E. Dodge, of New York, received by will from his grandfather a large sum to be invested and the income to be devoted to the spread of the Gospel and to promote the Redeemer’s Kingdom on earth, and to be transmitted, unimpaired, to his descendants for the same purpose. By his will, Mr. Dodge bequeathed the sum to his eldest son to be by him invested and the income to be sacredly devoted, as indicated in the grandfather’s will, and to be handed down to his descendants for a like purpose. With regard to charitable bequests, Mr. Dodge in his will said: “Acting from a judgment deliberately formed, based upon observation of the inexpediency of testamentary bequests to religious and charitable objects, and believing it better and wiser to give liberally during life to such objects, I make no bequests of that character.” Spoke from Experience The late Rufus Hatch, of New York, in his will gave this advice to his children: “I do not wish my boys to go to college, but to receive a commercial education. Should any of them, however, wish to become lawyer, doctor or clergyman, then he may go to college. I most strongly warn my children not to use tobacco in any shape, or form: nor to touch, taste or use wine or liquor in any way. I earnestly desire that my children shall not gamble in any way for money, as their father has had experience sufficient to serve for all posterity.” Will of Eugene Kelley In the will of the late Eugene Kelley, of New York, is found this beautiful sentiment: “I desire to record in this solemn instrument, Samuel J. Randall died Poor The late Samuel J. Randall, an American political leader, left an estate valued at $789.74, which was not enough to pay the bills of the physicians who attended him in his last illness. Of this amount, $589.74 was due by the government for salary, leaving the total value of his property $200 at the time of his death. This is a remarkable showing for a man who spent thirty years of his life in the most responsible positions in the service of his country. Will of James Smithson The Smithsonian Institution in Washington was founded by James Smithson, an Englishman born in France. He was never in the United States, yet he left his fortune of half a million dollars to found at Washington, under the name of the Smithsonian Institution, “an establishment for the increase and diffusion of knowledge among men,” provided a certain nephew died without issue, legitimate or illegitimate. The disposition of the fund was for ten years debated in Congress, but finally the trust was accepted, and a board of regents was appointed. Our Weather Bureau is one of the creations of the Institution. Sailors’ Snug Harbor Robert Richard Randall, of New York, was the founder of the “Sailors’ Snug Harbor” for the purpose of maintaining and supporting aged, decrepit and worn-out sailors. The will was attacked by the heirs, but was held valid by the United States Supreme Court. Where to Invest Collis P. Huntington, of New York, directed his executors to invest funds in bonds of the United States, or in bonds, stocks or securities of any state north of the Potomac and Ohio rivers, and east of the Mississippi. A Big Undertaking Amos R. Eno, late of Connecticut, made a bequest to the Chamber of Commerce, of New York, to provide for, and assist, such of its members as might be reduced to poverty, and their widows and children. The Term “Miss Nancy” The term “Miss Nancy” is applied to a man who is over-fastidious in his dress, or who has effeminate manners. The expression dates back to 1730. There was a celebrated actress known as Mrs. Anna Oldfield, and she was buried in Westminster Abbey: she was familiarly known as “Miss Nancy,” and was noted for her extreme vanity and particularity in dress. Not only did she devote much thought to this during her life, but she was careful to provide for her proper attire after death, and, according to her instructions, she lay in state attired in elegant garments and the rarest of laces. She has had many eulogists; one poet says: And the poet, Pope, also credits her with saying to her maid: “One would not sure be frightful when one’s dead, And,—Betty,—give this cheek a little red.” She died in 1730 in London, and left the royalty and half the town in tears. A Pew for a Sealskin Sack A certain lady, dying in New York, was entitled to the use for several years to come of a pew in Grace Church, New York; she bequeathed its use to a female relative living in Johnstown, Pennsylvania; the donee, being unable to use the pew, transferred the right to one who could use it, and received in return a sealskin sack which is reported to have been of great length and beauty, thus showing like John Gilpin’s wife that, though on comfort bent, “she had a frugal mind. Found in a Note-book Not known until recently to be in existence, because it was written faintly in pencil in an old pocket memorandum book, the will of Dr. John D. Potter, of Pittsburgh, who died July 22, 1906, was recently filed for probate by his brother, Robert J. Potter. The will disposes of $5000 personal property and real estate of unestimated value situated in Pittsburgh and East Deer township. It reads: “John D. Potter will, dated January 22, 1903. I bequeath to my mother all my property, both real and personal. I hereby appoint my brother, R. J. Potter, executor of my estate without bond. John D. Potter, M.D.” Working with a Will “All lawyers like to take a rest, Like most of us, and still The average lawyer’s happiest When working with a will.” A Certain Pastor and Elder Debarred There has just been filed at Pottsville, Pennsylvania, the oddest instrument ever recorded in that city: the document conveys land for the erection of a new church, but stipulates that when the church is erected, a certain pastor shall be forever debarred from holding an office or preaching a sermon in the building, and that a specified elder shall also be precluded from holding an office. Accuracy in Writing Few realize the value of accuracy in testamentary and other writings. The other day there appeared a decision by the Supreme Court of Missouri, upsetting a sale, where the judges gravely decided that “Mike” did not mean “Michael”; and one of the arguments in reaching this result was, that to have called Michael Angelo, “Mike” Angelo, would have been a sacrilege to the memory of the great painter. A Will of the Future If the late prevailing high prices for meat continue, Puck of New York suggests the following will: “In the name of God, Amen! I, John Doe, in the City of Jersey, “First, I bequeath to my eldest son, John, two juicy porterhouse steaks now in the custody of the Arctic Storage Company; “Second, I leave to my son, Wilfred, a leg of spring lamb now stored with the Freezem Warehouse; “Third, I leave to my daughter six pounds of veal chops locked in the refrigerator in the cellar beneath my residence, the combination for the lock of which is held by the Columbia Trust Company. It is also my desire that the executors have these chops frenched before turning same over to the legatee; “Fourth, I leave to my mother-in-law one haslet, which will be delivered to her upon application at either the Morris or Swift beef houses. “Lastly, I hereby nominate Richard Roe, the wholesale butcher, Morris Moe, the beef-trust magnate, and Paul Poe, meat manipulator, to be executors of this my last will and testament, hereby revoking all former wills by me made. “In Witness Whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and seal, the eighth day of May in the year of our Lord, Nineteen Hundred and Ten. “F. P. Pitzer.” Doing his Duty The farmer marched into the little grocer’s shop with a firm step. “I want that tub of butter,” he said, “and that lot of sugar, and all that other stuff.” “Good gracious!” said the widow who kept the shop. “Whatever do you want with all them goods?” “I dunno,” said the farmer, scratching his head; “but, you see, I’m the executor of your husband’s will, and the lawyers told me I was to carry out the provisions.” Major AndrÉ’s Request of Washington “Tappan, the 1st October, 1780. “Sir. “Buoy’d above the Terror of Death by the Consciousness of a Life devoted to honorable pursuits and stained with no Action that “Sympathy towards a Soldier will surely induce Your Excellency and a military Tribunal to adapt the mode of my death to the feelings of a Man of honour. “Let me hope Sir, that if aught in my character impresses you with Esteem towards me, if aught in my misfortunes marks me as the victim of policy and not of resentment, I shall experience the operation of these Feelings in your Breast by being informed that I am not to die on a Gibbet. “I have the honour to be “Your Excellency’s “His Excellency President McKinley’s Last Prayer The last words of great men seem always to possess a peculiar value in the minds of the people; the following is a touching example: In the afternoon of his last day on earth the President began to realize that his life was slipping away, and that the efforts of science could not save him. He asked Dr. Rixey to bring the surgeons in. One by one the surgeons entered and approached the bedside. When they gathered about him, the President opened his eyes and said: “It is useless, gentlemen; I think we ought to have prayer.” The dying man crossed his hands on his breast and half closed his eyes. There was a beautiful smile on his countenance. The surgeons bowed their heads. Tears streamed from the eyes of the white-clad nurses on either side of the bed. The yellow radiance of the sun shone softly in the room. “Our Father which art in Heaven,” said the President in a clear, steady voice. The lips of the surgeons moved. “Hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done—” The sobbing of a nurse disturbed the still air. The President opened his eyes and closed them again. “Thy will be done in earth as it is in Heaven.” A long sigh. The sands of life were running swiftly. The sunlight died out; the raindrops dashed against the windows. “Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors: and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” Another silence. The surgeons looked at the dying face and the friendly lips. “For Thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, forever, Amen.” “Amen,” whispered the surgeons. Last Words of Count Leo Tolstoi It was disclosed to the observant eye of Washington Irving that when the noble elk finds himself mortally wounded, he leaves his companions, and turning aside, seeks some out-of-the-way place to die; and his incomparable pen depicts such a scene in his “Tour of the Prairies,” a book which is ever a delight to lovers of nature and outdoor life; and so when death was about to overtake him did Tolstoi, one of the Masters of the Old World, attempt to withdraw from mankind and quietly disappear, dying at a little railway station in Russia. His valuable manuscripts passed by his last will to his daughter: by another testament, written at the Optina Monastery on November 11, 1910, a few days before his death, he left an address entitled “Effective Means.” It says: “I am naturally anxious to do all I can against evil, which tortures the best spirits of our time. “I think the present effective war against capital punishment does not need forcing; there is no need for an expression of indignation against its immorality, cruelty and absurdity; every sincere, thinking person, everybody knowing from youth the sixth commandment, needs no explanation of its absurdity and immorality; there is no need for descriptions of the horrors of executions, as they only affect hangmen, so men will more unwillingly become executioners and governments will be obliged to compensate them more dearly for their services. Knowledge Banishes Delusions “Therefore, I think that neither the expression of indignation against the murder of our fellow-men, nor the suggestion of its horrors, is mainly needed; but something totally different. “As Kant well says, there are delusions which cannot be disproved, and we must communicate to the deluded mind knowledge which will enlighten, and then the delusions will vanish by themselves. “What knowledge need we communicate to the deluded human mind regarding the indispensableness, usefulness or justice of capital punishment in order that said delusion may destroy itself. “Such knowledge in my opinion is this: The knowledge of what is man, what his surrounding world, what his destiny; hence, what man can and must do, and principally what he cannot and must not do. “Therefore, we should oppose capital punishment by inculcating this knowledge to all men, especially to hangmen’s managers and sympathizers who wrongfully think they are maintaining their position, thanks only to capital punishment. “I know this is not an easy task. The employers and approvers of hangmen, with the instinct of self-preservation, feel that this knowledge will make impossible the maintenance of the position which they occupy; hence not only will they themselves not adopt it, but by all means in their power, by violence, deceit, lies and cruelty, they will try to hide from the people this knowledge, distorting it and exposing its disseminators to all kinds of privations and suffering. “Therefore, if we readily wish to destroy the delusion of capital punishment, and if we possess the knowledge which destroys this delusion, let us, in spite of all menaces, deprivations and sufferings, teach the people this knowledge, because it is solely the effective means in the fight. “Leo Tolstoi. “Optina Monastery, November 11, 1910.” “Remember Crittenden” If not a will, the last writing of William Logan Crittenden carried with it a wealth of sentiment and affection; he was a member of the celebrated Kentucky family, and a graduate of West Point. In the year 1851, he joined General Narcisso Lopez, who sought vol Confucius History does not record that the great Chinese philosopher and sage made a testamentary disposition of his worldly effects; but we find that just before his death in 478 B.C., with his hands behind his back, dragging his staff, he moved about his door reciting: “The great mountain must crumble, The strong beam must break, The wise man must wither away like a plant.” The grave of Confucius is in Kung Cemetery near the city of Kiuh-Fow: a magnificent gate opens into a beautiful avenue which leads to his tomb, this avenue being shaded by cypresses and other fine old trees: the inscription on his tomb reads: “The most sagely ancient Teacher, The all-accomplished, all-informed King.” The great temple erected here in his honor is a splendid edifice. Confucius enunciated the Golden Rule five hundred years before Christ, and although negatively put, it is to all intents and purposes the same as given by the Master: “What ye would not, that others should do unto you, do ye not unto them.” Undertaker paid in Advance The will of Elijah Bell was probated at Columbus, Ohio, on October 5, 1910. It disposes of an estate of twenty thousand dollars between his widow, children and grandchildren. In a codicil, he states that no changes have been made in his will, and that if any were found on opening that document, the court was to declare the instrument a forgery. He also declared that he had paid the undertaker for his burial, the sum of one hundred and ninety-eight dollars; the items being, a casket one hundred and forty dollars, a vault fifty dollars, and a shroud eight dollars. Sings at his Own Funeral William Faxon died recently at Ovid, Michigan. When the mourners had gathered at the Faxon home, in which lay his open coffin, they were surprised to hear his voice in an anthem from behind a screen of flowers and palms. Sometime before his death, Faxon conceived the idea of preserving his own voice by means of the phonograph, to be a part of the service when he died. He was a well-known choir singer, and possessed a rich tenor voice. Heavenly Securities An inventory recently filed in the County Court at Nashville, Tennessee, is probably the most unusual instrument of its kind ever admitted to probate. The document is signed by Mrs. Corra W. Harris, the author of a book of high merit, “A Circuit Rider’s Wife”; her husband, the Reverend Lundy H. Harris, is reported to have died by his own hand; he is said to have been the real circuit rider of the story; his wife qualified as his administratrix. The inventory given below is embodied in a letter addressed to the Clerk of the County Court, which had jurisdiction of the estate of the deceased minister; it is a pathetic and touching tribute from an able pen. “Mr. W. F. Hunt, City. “I have your card saying that if I do not furnish you an Inventory of the estate of Lundy H. Harris, of which I was appointed administratrix, within ten days from receipt of this notice, you will proceed as the law directs. “I did not know it was my duty to furnish such an inventory and now you demand it I do not know how to do it. If the one I send you is not in proper form to be recorded upon your books, I enclose postage and request you to let me know wherein I have failed. “It is not with the intention of showing an egregious sentimentality that I say I find it impossible to give you a complete and satisfactory inventory of the estate of Lundy H. Harris. The part that I give is so small that it is insignificant and misleading. “At the time of his death he had $2.35 in his purse, $116.00 in the Union Bank & Trust Company of this city, about four hundred books, and the coffin in which he was buried, which cost $85.00. “The major part of his estate was invested in heavenly securities, the values of which have been variously declared in this world, and highly taxed by the various churches, but never realized. He invested every year not less (usually more) than $1200. in charity, so secretly, so inoffensively and so honestly that he was never suspected of being a philanthropist, and never praised for his generosity. He pensioned an old outcast woman in Barton County, an old soldier in Nashville; he sent two little negro boys to school and supported for three years a family of five who could not support themselves. He contributed anonymously to every charity in Nashville, every old maid interested in a ‘benevolent’ object received his aid, every child he knew exacted and received penny tolls from his tenderness. He supported the heart of every man who confided in him with encouragement and affection. He literally did forgive his enemies and suffered martyrdom on Sept. 18th, 1910, after enduring three years of persecution without complaint. He considered himself one of the Chief of Survivors and was ever recognized as one of the largest bondholders in Heaven. “You can see how large this estate was and how difficult it would be to compute its value so as to furnish you the inventory you require for record on your books. I have given you faithfully such items as have come within my knowledge. “Sincerely yours, An Unusual Condition On April 15, 1910, there was an announcement in the newspapers of how a wealthy and well-known lady in St. Louis died, leaving her entire fortune to her husband; the remainder to their children; but in the event he remarries, the estate to pass immediately to their children. This is the second instance we have known of such a provision in a will. A learned legal writer of San Francisco states in his work on wills that he had never met with such an instance. Will of Earl of Pembroke The will of William, Earl of Pembroke, written July 27, 1469, among other clauses, says: “ ... And wyfe ye remember your promise to me to take the ordre of wydowhood as ye may be the better mastre of your owne to performe my wylle....” And in a codicil he adds: “ ... I will that Maud my daughter be wedded to the Lord Henry of Richmond; Ann to Lord Powys; and Jane to Edmund Malafaul.” To pay National Debts In the year 1784 there was probated in England, the last will and testament of one, M. Fortune Ricard, a teacher of arithmetic. It seems that in his eighth year, his grandparent had given him a small sum of money, and directed him to add the interest to the principal each year, and at his death to employ the result in good works for the repose of their souls. The testator was in his seventy-first year at the time of his death. He divided the fund into five parts. At the end of one hundred years, one part was to be given for the best theological dissertation proving the lawfulness of putting money out at interest. At the end of two hundred years, the second part was to be expended for prizes for distinguished, virtuous actions, literature and other purposes. At the end of three hundred years, the third part was to be used in establishing five hundred patriotic banks in France, lending money without interest. At the end of four hundred years, the fourth part was to be expended in the building of a hundred towns to accommodate the people of France. At the end of five hundred years, the fifth part was to be used in paying off the national debts of England and France. The will concludes with a hope for the success of these enterprises, above all, that his example would enkindle the emulation of patriots, princes and public bodies, and cause them to give attention to this new and most powerful and invaluable means of serving posterity. The Nobel Prizes Alfred Bernard Nobel, a Swedish inventor and philanthropist, was born at Stockholm in 1833, and died in 1896. He was a student of the distinguished John Ericsson: he was educated in St. Petersburg, and studied mechanical engineering in the United States: he was granted patents by the United States on nitroglycerin and dynamite: his patents were very numerous, there being filed in Great Britain one hundred and twenty-nine. In 1875, he controlled fifteen dynamite factories in different parts of the world. He is best known by his will in which he founded the Nobel Prize Fund of $9,200,000, reduced by taxation to $8,400,000, the interest on which is annually divided into five equal parts, and awarded as prizes to the person who shall have made, (1) the most important invention or discovery in the domain of physics, (2) in chemistry, (3) in physiology or medicine, (4) who shall have produced in the field of literature the most distinguished work of an idealistic tendency, and, (5) who shall have most or best promoted the interest of universal peace. The first four prizes are awarded by the academies of Sweden, and the fifth by the Norwegian Storthing (Parliament). The value of each prize is about $38,000; the right to make nominations is bestowed upon members of corresponding academies of other countries, professors holding proper chairs in Scandinavian and foreign universities, recipients of Nobel prizes, and other persons of distinction. The plan of award is that the prizes shall go to those persons who shall have contributed most materially to benefit mankind during the year immediately preceding. The stipulation that the award should be for achievements of the preceding year has been, to a large extent, disregarded, and in many instances the award is the result of the life work of the recipient. Spiteful Wills Mr. Russell, in his work, “Seeing and Hearing,” says: “Wills which, by rehearsing and revoking previous bequests, mortify the survivors when the testator is no longer in a position A Jilted Lover’s Will Dr. Forbes (Benignus) Winslow, though of New England stock, was born in London. He studied medicine in New York and afterward at the Royal College of Surgeons. He made a specialty of the treatment of insanity after locating in London, and became noted as an alienist and was at one time President of the Medical Society of London. He reports the following very singular will: “A certain individual, who having been crossed in love, concluded to end an unhappy and disappointing life, ordered his body to be boiled down, and all the fat to be extracted therefrom to be used in making a candle, which was to be presented to the object of his affections, together with a letter containing his adieus and expressions of undying love. The time chosen for the delivery of the candle and the letter was at night, in order that the lady might read the touching lines by this veritable ‘Corpse Candle.’” The will, the learned Dr. Winslow tells us, was literally carried out. Will of Frederic Gebhard Frederic Gebhard, once the favorite of the stage and of society, with an income of $100,000 a year, a private car, and blooded horses and dogs, left an estate valued at less than $10,000. His will, making no mention of his widow, was filed September 21st, 1910, in the Surrogate’s office of New York. Gebhard died at Garden City on September 8th last. His will provides that his entire estate shall be given to his sister, Mrs. Mary Isabel Neilson, who is the mother-in-law of Reginald Vanderbilt. The will is dated June 21, 1905, some time prior to his marriage to his last wife, formerly Marie Wilson, one of the original Florodora Sextette girls. They were wedded early in 1906, but were reported to have separated. Mrs. Gebhard returned to him some time before he died. Gebhard attracted public attention over twenty years ago as an admirer of Lily Langtry, who came to this country as a stage beauty. Gebhard accompanied her about the country, and purchased a ranch adjoining her ranch in California. Later she returned to England to become Mrs. Hugo de Bathe, and Gebhard wedded Lulu Morris. She divorced him, and became Mrs. Henry Clews, Jr. In Colonial Days The will of William Farrar of colonial times, related to many St. Louisans, was probated in 1677 in Henrico County, Virginia. This document and the inventory portray the customs of those days. There passed under this will, “one Indian boy named Will, and another named Jack”; there is a recital that the “Hoggs being out and uncertain, and one young mare, are left undivided.” The valuations are in tobacco, the Indian boys being worth 2800 pounds each. This is rather a novel association of the Indian with tobacco. Five Drawers to be Opened A few years ago, there died a wealthy English gentleman who directed that the five drawers in his desk be opened on the five consecutive anniversaries of his death. That was all; not a word about the disposition of his large fortune. When the fourth drawer was reached, a sealed letter contained this message: “Have faith and hope, and you will attain unto the fruition of all your desires.” When on the fifth anniversary the last drawer was opened, a properly executed will was found, leaving the property to those who had expected it. Anticipating Marriage There is a strong tendency on the part of men to draw up their wills in favor of the ladies to whom they are affianced. By thus anticipating what they would probably do after marriage, they not only take duty by the forelock, so to speak, but reap a present reward in the increased ardor of the adored ones. Difficult Task for the Judge The will of Mrs. Sophia Striewe, of St. Louis, was filed in the Probate Court in November, 1910. Six-fourteenths of the residuary part of her estate, amounting to seven thousand dollars, it was directed should go the one who did the most for her during her last days. The Probate Judge will probably decline to pass on so delicate a matter. Dental Safeguards Quite recently, a Boston philanthropist provided a fund by means of which the school children of that city were insured the proper care of their teeth. Dental statistics show that this act must be considered as far more worthy than any gift of a like nature in the field of philanthropy for many years; it cannot be doubted that the state of the health depends to a very large degree on the condition of the teeth, and actual figures show that only one child in thirty-five has sound teeth, and much of the sickness of the country can be thus accounted for in this impairment of one of nature’s equipments. What Commodore Vanderbilt said When Commodore Vanderbilt was on his death-bed, he was visited by his nephew, Samuel Barton. “Sammy,” he said, “I’ve been thinking all day about Alexander Stewart’s will. I can’t explain it. I can’t understand how the greatest merchant in this country, who began with nothing and made a fortune of millions, who was always clear-headed in business matters—how was it possible for a man of that kind to make such an utter damn fool of himself when he came to write his will?” “One Clover Blossom” A poetic nature and a love for clover blossoms are at once shown by a Michigan testator who devised land to his native village for park purposes; the only rental being “one clover blossom per annum,” which is to be picked on the premises and delivered to his heirs or descendants. No provision seems to have been made for substitute rental in the event of a failure of the clover crop. “One Red Rose in the Month of June” Baron Heinrich Wilhelm Stiegel was born in Germany near Manheim, Baden, of a noble and wealthy family, in 1730. Before he was twenty years of age, he ventured into the New World with a fortune of $200,000: he located in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, after having built a home in Philadelphia. He was a man of great note, establishing iron and glass works and other industries, and built an elegant mansion at Manheim, in Lancaster County; the old Lutheran Church in Manheim, built in 1770, was located on ground now occupied by a modern church of the same denomination, built in 1891. Stiegel, by will or an instrument of kindred nature, gave the lot on which the church stands, for a consideration of five shillings and “the annual rental of one red rose in the month of June forever.” The payment of the rose occurs on the first Sunday in June, and is an annual ceremony of great interest; the church officers bear the rose to the altar on a costly tray, and a descendant of the testator comes forward at the request of the minister to receive it. An extended account of Stiegel appears in the proceedings of the Lancaster County Historical Association for September 4th, 1896. Desired Burial on Mountains Robert Louis Stevenson, in his directions for his burial, selected the apex of a mountain in the Samoan Islands; it was necessary to employ a great many natives to clear the way to the mountain top. There, in the midst of singing birds, the blooming of flowers, and the tonic of the sea breeze, one may read his epitaph, written by himself, but for another: “Under the wide and starry sky, Dig my grave and let me lie. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. “This be the verse you grave for me, Here he lies where he longed to be, Home is the sailor, home from the sea, And the hunter home from the hill.” Cecil John Rhodes admired the grandeur of the Matoppo Hills in Rhodesia, and directed in his will that he be buried there in Helen Hunt Jackson, the authoress, was buried at her direction, on Cheyenne Mountain, near the top of Seven Falls, a short distance from Colorado Springs, Colorado; she desired this for her last resting place, on account of her love for the surroundings, which are of rare beauty, and which no doubt gave her inspiration for her literary productions. Thomas Jefferson, his wife and two daughters are buried near the crest of Monticello, “Little Mountain.” Monticello, the home of Jefferson, is beautifully situated, and commands a view of the town of Charlottesville, the University of Virginia, and the neighboring country. It has long been known as one of the most picturesque spots in the South. For many years, a monument bearing the following inscription from his own pen marked Jefferson’s grave: HERE WAS BURIED The old monument was removed about fifteen years ago, and now stands on the campus of the University of Missouri, at Columbia, Missouri, and a more imposing one was erected in its place. No Trips to Europe Mr. Jefferson G. James, an old and prominent citizen of San Francisco, died in May, 1910; he was a pioneer cattle dealer and politician; he left a large estate to be disposed of under his will, which was written with his own hand and is an eccentric document. One provision in the nature of advice to the distributees reads as follows: “Don’t be mean. Don’t pay my employes more than is being paid them now. No outside speculations. No expensive trips to Europe. Spend your money in this country. Buy or build nice residences and live and enjoy yourselves among people you know. The dividends to the small stockholders will assist in the support of a family.” In a codicil, he recurs to the subject of European travel, which seems to have been a pet aversion; he again says, “No trips to Europe.” Rights of an Uxoricide Denied An appeal from a decision of Vice-Chancellor Malins, of London, questioning the rights of M. de Tourville to inherit under his wife’s will, was decided against him. M. de Tourville was found guilty of murdering his wife by flinging her down a precipice while travelling with her near Botzen, Austria, in July, 1876. The marriage took place in November, 1875, and the lady was a widow possessed of large property. The day after the marriage she made a will, leaving her property to trustees for the benefit of her children, should there be any, but in default of such, she gave the whole to her husband, the husband being cognizant of this arrangement, and thereby, as alleged by the wife’s relations, instigated to commit the crime of which he was subsequently convicted and sentenced to death by the Austrian courts. Having appealed, however, his sentence was commuted to imprisonment for eighteen years. Under these circumstances, the wife’s relations claimed a declaration that De Tourville was incapable of taking any interest under his wife’s will, and argued that the property belonged to Madame de Tourville’s next of kin. The Vice-Chancellor refused the application for a commission, on the ground that the question of law should first be determined whether, in his position, De Tourville should lose the The case was further complicated by the fact that, previous to his conviction, De Tourville had (not perhaps so cleverly as he thought) assigned his interest under the will to another person. The Master of the Rolls and Lords Justices James and Bramwell, however, reversed the decision of the Vice-Chancellor, and granted the application for a commission, the Master of the Rolls remarking that he was at a loss to understand why the application should have been refused. He answered the Questions About the year 1875, “Scotch” John Wilson, a native of Scotland, then living near Tecumseh, Nebraska, drove from his home his son, John Wilson, and told him never to darken the doors again. The son had graduated from an Iowa law school and wanted to practise law; the father wanted the son to stay on the farm; they disagreed and this resulted in the son’s being driven from home. He rode away on a circus train and never saw his parents again. A few years ago, the elder Wilson died, leaving an estate valued at thirty thousand dollars. By his will, he directed that this estate be turned over to any claimant who might appear and say he was the missing son, and who could answer thirty questions. These thirty questions dealt largely with family history, dates, and other matters which were peculiarly within the knowledge of the son. The son appeared, after an absence of thirty-five years, and answering satisfactorily the thirty questions before the Probate Court, was awarded the estate. After the decision in his favor, he began crying and remarked, “I would have preferred to have seen my mother rather than to take this money.” From under the Sea On April 15th, 1910, while manoeuvering off Kura in Hiroshima Bay, Submarine No. 6 of the Royal Japanese Navy was sunk: her commander, Lieutenant Saguma, and fourteen men were lost. When the vessel was raised two days after the catastrophe, a document written by him was discovered; it is a remarkable instrument and may be regarded as a testamentary log. This “I have no excuse or apology for having sunk His Majesty’s No. 6 submarine by my carelessness, but the crew of the boat bravely and calmly discharged their duties. We now die for the sake of our country, but we regret that the future development of submarines will receive a heavy blow as the result of this disaster. It is, therefore, my hope that you will engage in deeper study of the submarine without any misapprehension of disasters. If you do this, we shall feel no regret at our deaths. We were making a gasoline dive when the submarine sank lower than was intended, and we tried to close the sluice valve, when the chain unfortunately snapped. I therefore closed the valve with my own hands, but it was too late to avert disaster, and the boat sank with a list of 25 degrees. The boat sank at 10 A.M., and it is now 11.45 A.M. The depth of the water is about ten fathoms. I always expect death when away from home. My will is therefore prepared and in the locker, and I hope Mr. Taguchi will send it with this paper to my father.” There were numerous other requests, one to the Emperor, an earnest appeal to supply the means of livelihood to the poor families of the crew. Written by Entombed Miners In November, 1909, over three hundred miners were entombed for a period of ten days in a mine at Cherry, near Spring Valley, Illinois. The living were imprisoned with the dead. At the end of ten days, twenty-two miners were rescued; those saved had kept themselves free from fatal gas by building a barricade. Saved from death by suffocation, they were threatened with death by thirst. Two of these men, self-constituted leaders, gave orders for the protection of the community; they conducted religious services and cared for the sick and exhausted, and their directions were strictly carried out. Two of the miners wrote wills while so imprisoned; they are pathetic documents. The writer of the following will, Joe Pegati, was rescued: “This is the 4th day that we have been down here. That’s what I think, but our watches stopped. I am writing this in the dark because we have been eating the wax from our safety lamps. I also have eaten a plug of tobacco, some bark and some of my shoe. I could only chew it. I hope you can read this. I am not afraid to die. O Holy Virgin, have mercy on me. “I think my time has come. You know what my property is. We worked for it together and it is all yours. This is my will, and you must keep it. You have been a good wife. May the Holy Virgin guard you. I hope this reaches you some time, and you can read it. It has been very quiet down here and I wonder what has become of our comrades. “Good-by until heaven shall bring us together. “Joe Pegati.” The writer of the second will, Samuel D. Howard, aged twenty-one, died in the mine; his will in part is in these words: “Alive at 10.30 o’clock yet. Sam D. Howard and Brother Alfred is with me yet. A good many dead mules and men. I tried to save some, but came almost losing myself. If I am dead give my diamond ring to Mamie Robinson. The ring is coming to the Post Office. Henry can have the ring I have in my good clothes. The only thing I regret is that my brother could not help mother after I am dead and gone. ******* “To keep me from thinking I thought I would write these few lines. There is rock falling all over. We have our buckets full of water, seep water, and we drink it and bathe our heads in it. ******* “Seven fifty o’clock in the morning. This is Sunday. There is no air. We have fanned ourselves with the lids of our buckets. Twenty five after 9 and black damp coming both ways. Twenty five after 10 we gave up all hope. We have done all we could. The fan had better start above soon. Twenty five after 10 A.M. Sunday. We are still alive, the only hope is the fan. “I think I won’t have strength to write pretty soon. Fifteen after 12 o’clock Sunday. If they can’t give us air, we will make fans ourselves. We take turns at the fan. We have three of them going. Twenty seven to 3 P.M. and the black damp is coming in on us. “Only for the fans we would be dead. Eleven to 4 P.M. dying for want of air. We have six fans moving. One after another fifteen feet apart. We all had to come back. We can’t move front or backward. We can stand it with our fans until Monday morning. “Fifteen after 2 A.M. Monday. Am still alive. We are cold, hungry, weak, sick and everything else. Alfred Howard is still alive. 9.15 A.M. “Monday morning, still breathing. Something better must turn up or we will soon be gone. Eleven fifteen A.M. still alive at this time. Sixteen to 1 P.M. Monday, we are still getting weak, Alfred Howard as well as the rest of us.” The Town Crier Doctor Roland Williams was an author of considerable distinction; he was, at one time, professor in the College of St. David’s, Lampeter, South Wales, but had difficulty with the faculty of that institution. He exiled himself to a neighboring town, where he died, leaving in his will fifty pounds to the town of Lampeter, one-third of the income of which is perpetually to be given to the town crier, “for making proclamation once a year, about midsummer, on a market day, that he, Roland Williams, never consented to the election of George Lewellin to a scholarship in this college, but in this and other things he was foully slandered by men in high places; because he loved righteousness and hated iniquity; therefore, he died in exile; but while unjust men permitted this, he both kept the needy student by his right, and defended the alms of the altar of God.” Curll’s Collection of Wills A very curious and now rare collection of wills was made about 1720, by Edmund Curll, who, according to Pope and Swift, possessed himself surreptitiously of these as well as of many anecdotes of the private lives of some of his contemporary celebrities, and published them anonymously, garbling and altering in a scurrilous manner many of the facts he had obtained, so that Arbuthnot observed to Swift that “Curll was one of the new terrors of death;” and the author of “The Man of Taste” wrote: “Long live old Curll! he ne’er to publish fears, The verses, speeches, and last wills of Peers.” Besides the memoirs and will of “Alderman John Barber,” of “Peter Le Neve, Esq., Norroy King-at-Arms,” and that of “Anthony Collins, Esq.,” he issued thirty-one pamphlets containing the “Life, Correspondence, and last Will and Testament” of each of the following worthies. The list of them is to be found on the last leaf of the said life of Alderman Barber, and is as follows:
Indeed, Curll seems to have had an itching hand for seizing on everybody’s will; for, among other of the singular productions he put before the public, is a satirical work called “Pylades and Corinna: Memoirs of the Lives, Letters, and Adventures of two Lovers, Richard Grinnett, Esq., of Great Shurdington in Gloucestershire, and Mrs. Elizabeth Thomas Jenner of Great Russell Street, Bloomsbury, together with all the Incidents of their Sixteen Years’ Courtship, and two complete Copies of their last Wills and Testaments;” and yet more extraordinary, he invented a will for the Evil One, which he styled: “Satan turned Moralist; or, The Devil’s last Will and Testament. Price 1s.” A copy of this rare book, worthless though it may be as far as it might afford entertainment to any reader of the present day, would, we fancy, command a good many shillings now. Of these, fifteen are still extant, and in the library of the British Museum, viz.: those numbered, in our list of Curll’s publications, respectively 2, 4, 9, 10, 12, 13, 14, 15, 18, 21, 22, 23, 25, 26, 29; but it is no easy task to find them, even in the Catalogue. A Weird Custom In one of Balzac’s best novels, “The Country Doctor,” he tells of a strange custom which prevails in some of the mountainous districts of France. It will be recalled that the Country Doctor leaves Paris and takes up his abode in a remote country district, the purpose being to make amends for a life which at the outset had not been blameless and had brought about remorse and contrition. He devotes a long and useful life to the unsophisticated country people among whom he locates. The custom referred to is that upon the death of a husband the neighbors surround the bier and at intervals wail, “The master is gone! The master is gone! The master is gone!” The widow with her own hands cuts off her hair and places it in the hands of the corpse, as an evidence of devotion and constancy. To the Devil There is perhaps no sentiment, grateful or spiteful, or any phase of humor, good or bad, which has not been illustrated in testamentary documents. Probably the legatee who stood the least chance of realizing was the Devil; an attempt was made to make him a land owner in Finland: a few years ago, a queer old native of that country devised all his property to the Devil without attempting to establish the identity of the devisee. The Devil’s claim was disregarded and the property went to the heirs of the testator. It was suggested by one writer that doubtless the testator desired to make a good impression on his Satanic Majesty with a view to conciliating him; another writer suggests that even the name of the Devil in a will is better than none, such omissions being frequently found in wills. Devise to an Idol Within recent years, the Judiciary Committee of the Privy Council of Great Britain was called upon to pass on the validity of a testamentary devise made four hundred years prior to that time by a resident of India, conveying by will certain lands to the use of an idol, and, strange to say, this gift was sustained. Mr. Justice Riddell, of the Supreme Court of Canada, recently called attention to this remarkable devise, in an address before the State Bar Association of Missouri. It appears that one of the descendants of the original testator, after the lapse of four centuries, by a subsequent will, attempted to devise the same property which was formerly conveyed to the use of the idol. The Privy Council upheld the original gift, and the lands are still devoted to the use of the idol. The Lost Dauphin It is said the Duchesse d’AngoulÊme, sister of the “Lost Dauphin,” was a cold-hearted woman who preferred the prospect of a throne to the calls of family affection. She died childless and in exile at Prague in 1845. There is a story that on her deathbed she called to her side General la Rochejacquelein and whispered: “General, I have a fact, a very solemn fact, to reveal to you. It is the testament of a dying woman. My brother is not dead; it has been the nightmare of my life. Promise me to take the necessary steps to trace him. France will not be happy nor at peace till he is on the throne of his fathers.” The story is probably apocryphal; if true, it is a pity that the dying duchess left no documentary proof of her belief, even though it involved the awful confession that it was her selfishness that had cheated her brother out of a throne and rendered him a nameless outcast. George Sand’s Curiosity George Sand married in early life a coarse type of man, Casimir Dudevant. Their union was not a happy one. It happened that she found a packet in her husband’s desk, marked, “Not to be opened until after my death.” She wrote of this in her correspondence: “I had not the patience to wait till widowhood. No one can be sure of surviving anybody. I assumed that my husband had died, and I was very glad to learn what he thought of me while he was alive. Since the package was addressed to me, it was not dishonorable for me to open it.” And so she opened it. It proved to be his will, but containing, as a preamble, his curses on her, expressions of contempt, and all the vulgar outpouring of an evil temper and angry passion. At once she formed the great decision of her life. She went to her husband as he was opening a bottle, and flung the document upon the table. He cowered at her glance, at her “I must have an allowance. I am going to Paris, and my children are to remain here at Nohant.” She went into the Latin Quarter, and not only Paris but the world heard much of her. She wrote, “The proprieties are the guiding principle of people without soul or virtue,” and, as is well known, her life was in accord with this sentiment. Charles Dickens on Elderly Testators When Dickens came to America in 1842, he visited the charitable institutions of Boston, Massachusetts, and of them wrote in his “American Notes”: “I sincerely believe that the Public Institutions and Charities of Boston are as nearly perfect, as the most considerate wisdom, benevolence, and humanity can make them. I never in my life was more affected by the contemplation of happiness, under circumstances of privation and bereavements, than in my visits to these establishments.” In this connection he writes of the creation of such institutions through wills: “The maxim that ‘out of evil cometh good,’ is strongly illustrated by these establishments at home; as the records of the Prerogative Office in Doctors’ Commons can abundantly prove. Some immensely rich old gentleman or lady, surrounded by needy relatives, makes, upon a low average, a will a-week. The old gentleman or lady, never very remarkable in the best of times for good temper, is full of aches and pains from head to foot; full of fancies and caprices; full of spleen, distrust, suspicion, and dislike. To cancel old wills, and invent new ones, is at last the sole business of such a testator’s existence; and relations and friends (some of whom have been bred up distinctly to inherit a large share of the property and have been, from their cradles, especially disqualified from devoting themselves to any useful pursuit, on that account) are so often and so unexpectedly and summarily cut off, and reinstated, and cut off again, that the whole family, down to the remotest cousin, is kept in a perpetual fever. At length it becomes plain that the old lady or gentleman has not long to live; and the plainer this becomes, the more clearly the old lady or gentleman perceives that everybody is in a conspiracy against their poor old dying relative; wherefore the old lady or gentleman makes another last will The Cloak and Earring of Charles I. On the morning of January 30th, 1649, Charles I. rose early and for some time remained in prayer and meditation; he was then taken to Whitehall for execution, accompanied by his faithful Confessor, William Juxon, Bishop of London. On the scaffold with him were Colonel Hacker, another officer, and two men disguised with masks; though heard by few, the King addressed the vast crowd in the following words: “For the people, truly, I desire their liberty and freedom as much as any body whosoever, but I must tell you that their liberty and their freedom consists in having of government those laws by which their life and their goods may be most their own. It is not for having share in Government, Sirs; that is nothing pertaining to them; a subject and a sovereign are clean different things, and therefore until you do that, I mean that you do put the people in that liberty as I say, certainly they will never enjoy themselves.” He made a last profession of faith and gathered his hair under his cap; then took off his cloak and George and gave them to Bishop Juxon with one word, “Remember.” He then took from his left ear a large pearl earring and formally bequeathed it to one of his faithful followers; it is still preserved and is now owned by the Duke of Portland. It is pear-shaped, about five-eighths of an inch long and mounted with a gold top, and has a hook to pass through the ear. He then laid himself down on the block, breathed a short prayer, and stretched forth his hands, the appointed signal for the executioner, who performed his duty well, for the head of the King was severed by one blow and it was held up to the view of the crowd, which answered with a fearful groan. Masculine earrings were formerly quite common: Sir Walter Raleigh wore one, and so did Horace Walpole, and the Earl of Southampton; Shakespeare indulged the same taste. In modern times such male finery has been largely relegated to sailors, gypsies and negroes. Exhortation to Condemned Prisoners Robert Dowe of St. Sepulchre, London, in his lifetime, on the 8th of May, 1705, gave £50 to the end that the vicar and church-wardens of that parish should, forever, previously to every execution at Newgate, cause a bell to be tolled, and certain words to be delivered to the prisoners ordered for execution, in the form and manner specified in the terms of his gift, as set forth in the old will book. An annual sum of £1 6s. 8d. in respect of this gift was charged upon the parish estate in West Smithfield; it was paid to the sexton, who employed a person to go to Newgate on the night previous to every execution, where he offered to perform the prescribed duty, which was always declined, as all needful services of that kind were performed within the prison. Noorthouck, in his History of London, gives the words of the exhortation. He states that the sexton “comes at midnight, and after tolling his bell calls aloud, ‘You prisoners that are within, Who for wickedness and sin, after many mercies shewn you, are now appointed to die to-morrow in the forenoon, give ear and understand, that to-morrow morning the greatest bell of St. Sepulchre’s shall toll for you in form of and manner of a passing bell, as is used to be tolled for those that are at the point of death; to the end that all godly people hearing that bell, and knowing it is for you going to your deaths, may be stirred up heartily to pray to God to bestow his grace and mercy upon you whilst you live. I beseech you for Jesus Christ’s sake to keep this night in watching and prayer, to the salvation of your own souls, while there is yet time and place for mercy; as knowing to-morrow you must appear before the judgment seat of your Creator, there to give an account of things done in this life, and to suffer eternal torments for your sins committed against Him, unless upon your hearty and unfeigned repentance you find mercy through the merits, death, and passion of your only mediator and advocate Jesus Christ, who now sits at the right hand of God to make intercession for as many of you as penitently return to him.’ “On the morning of execution, as the condemned criminals pass by St. Sepulchre’s churchyard to Tyburn, he tolls his bell again and the cart stopping, he adds, ‘All good people pray heartily unto God ‘Lord have mercy upon you! Christ have mercy upon you! Lord have mercy upon you! Christ have mercy upon you!’” The Pardoned Poet’s Farewell “John Carter,” the convict whose poems brought him pardon, did not leave his Minnesota prison without a farewell message to his friends within its walls. This “last will and testament” was first printed in the weekly Prison Mirror, published in the penitentiary. The St. Paul Dispatch quotes it as follows: “This is the last will and testament of me, Anglicus. I hereby give and bequeath my collection of books (amounting to some 6000 volumes) to Mr. Van D., in memory of the not altogether unpleasant hours we spent together, hours marked by no shadow of animosity at any time. We could not be happy, but we were as happy as we could be. To Dr. Van D. I leave my mantle of originality, and what remains of the veuve cliquot, in memory of encouragement when I most needed it. “To the editor I leave my space on this journal and the best of good wishes in memory of his unfailing courtesy and forbearance. “To Uncle John and to Sinbad go my heartiest wishes that we may meet soon in some brighter clime. “To Mr. Helgrams, my best dhudeen and the light of hope. “To young Steady and to Mr. D. M., my poetic laurels, which they are to share in equal measure. “To the boys in the printing-office, the consolation of not being obliged to set up my excruciating copy. “To the tailors (and to the boss tailor in particular, ‘Little Italy,’) my very best pair of pants. “To Jim of the laundry,—but nothing seems good enough for Jim, the best soul that ever walked. “To Portfiro Alexio Gonzolio, a grip of the hand. “To Davie, pie, pie again, and yet more pie. “To the band boys—why, here’s to ’em! May they blow loose. “To my fellow pedagogues, ‘More light,’ as Goethe put it, more fellowship; it would be impossible to wise them. They know where I stand and I know where they stand. “Lawdy! lawdy! If I hadn’t forgotten Otto and his assistant. Here’s all kinds of luck to ’em, and no mistake about it. “Finally to all those not included hereinbefore (for various reasons), here’s to our next merry meeting. To those in authority, thanks for a square deal. To mine enemy—but I mustn’t bulcon him. “Gentlemen, I go, but I leave, I hope I leave my reputation behind me. “Anglicus.” Probates his Own Will Judge R. B. Tappan, of Alameda, California, in July, 1910, practically probated his own will. He filed in the Recorder’s Office, of Alameda County, a document which makes the Alameda Lodge of Elks his beneficiary. He provides that if he dies or becomes insane his property is to go to the Elks. Throughout the legal phraseology of the instrument Judge Tappan has made many unique observations, among which he states that he trusts that no one will inspect him too closely for signs of dementia. He says: “I hope that such things as leading a horse over a hill while I am hatless and coatless and wearing a bandana handkerchief over my head or wearing moccasins in the city will not be considered evidence of insanity sufficient to revoke the terms of this trust.” On Judge Tappan’s death he directs that such property as he has transferred to the trust shall immediately be put to the uses of the Elks lodge after paying his funeral expenses, which, he says, should not be over $75. He remarks in the document that he has already paid $10 for a redwood box to convey his remains to the crematory. In regard to the document, Judge Tappan said: “I have the consent of the directors of my lodge of Elks to keep for me in their possession during my life my property now in their possession, and any property which I may place in their custody hereafter will be similarly held. I have made provisions in the declaration which will pass the trust fund to the Elks lodge in the event of my death or in the event of my becoming insane. The question of insanity is left to the officers of my lodge. There may arise an occasion where some meddlesome person or persons would Trust Companies as Executors The Trust Companies of the United States and other countries have, in recent years, proved themselves the best mediums for administering wills; such an institution located in Melbourne, Australia, in pointing out its merits and stability, quite uniquely, we think, quoted Tennyson’s lines: “ ... Men may come, And men may go, But I go on for ever.” |