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 man wrote upon the white paper before him, beginning what he wrote with capital letters, such as he had not made since, as a boy in school, he had taken pride in his skill with the pen:
“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.