p. 14 | Two Remarkable Wills

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · May 18, 1916

Two Remarkable Wills

There is something about a will that possesses a deeper interest than attaches merely to the disposition of the earthly effects of the testator. It is his last word, his final wish, to and for those who have been the objects of his love and care. Often it reveals secrets and thoughts undreamed of by his associates.

Not long ago, in the insane ward of Chicago’s great poorhouse, died a man who had been a lawyer. In one of the pockets of his ragged coat, was found the following will, written “in a clear, firm hand on a few scraps of paper.” The document was sent to a lawyer, who read it before the Chicago Bar Association. It was probated, and is now on the records of Cook County, Illinois. This is the will:—

“I, Charles Lounsberry, being of sound and disposing mind and 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 interests which is known in law and recognized in the sheep-bound volumes as my property, being inconsiderable and of none account, I make no disposition 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, but generously, as the needs of their children shall 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 to the children the long, long days to be merry in, in a thousand ways, and the night 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 hold the same for the period of their boyhood. And all meadows, with the clover blossoms and butterflies thereof; the woods with their appurtenances; the squirrels and the 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 or without any incumbrance or care.

“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 they may desire to figure to each other the lastingness and beauty of their love.

“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 leave to them the power to make lasting friendships and of possessing companions, and to them exclusively I give all merry songs and grave choruses to sing with lusty voices.

“ITEM: And to those who are no longer children or youths or lovers, I leave memory: and bequeath to them the volumes of the poets, . . . to the end that they may live the old days over 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.”

Alexander’s Last Will and Testament

The following story of the great Alexander’s last will is taken from the Sunday School Times:—

“Alexander the Great, feeling his end approaching, and fearful lest his mother should grieve too much after his death, composed a letter, which he gave out to be his last will and testament, and ordered to be sent to her as soon as he had breathed his last:—

“‘Consider, dear mother,’ wrote he, ‘that all things are fleeting, and that man is destined to die. Nothing survives, and nothing escapes decay. Hence, your son, great though he be, must perish, too! But, dear mother, remember that he was not like unto ordinary mortals. He was a mighty and valiant king, not like the little kings on earth. Conduct thyself, therefore, as befits the mother of a great king, and do not spend thy days in lamentation. I herewith ordain that a large palace be built, large enough to hold great multitudes. On a certain day, to be set apart by thee, let all the princes of the kingdom be assembled—the dukes and dignitaries, and all conditions of people shall come to celebrate the event. And instead of mourning and lamentation, there shall be feasting and rejoicing within those gates. But I stipulate that no one shall be permitted to partake of those festivities who has suffered pain or sorrow or bereavement.’”

“After Alexander died, and his mother had learned his wishes with regard to the celebration of the event, she caused a great banquet to be prepared, according to the directions of her departed son. The day was set, and everything was in waiting. She expected a large number of guests to participate in the festival, but lo! she waited and waited at the stated hour, and no one appeared. In great astonishment she turned to her people who were in attendance, and asked, ‘What is the meaning of all this? Where are all the people whom I had invited to this feast?’”

“‘Know, O Queen,’ said one of her servants, ‘thou didst issue a decree to the effect that all who have had sorrow, or who have experienced pain, are to be debarred from this banquet. There is no one among thy people who can say that he has never grieved, or that death has not visited his house; hence no one attends. Each broods over his sorrow, each nurses his pain. Man was made to mourn.’”

“Upon hearing this, the queen cried out: ‘O Alexander, my son, my son, thou wert indeed wise to have thought of this means of solacing me. Thou didst desire to prove to me that sorrow is universal, and that if we inquired into the lives of others, we would find that, great or small, none are exempt from suffering. I am consoled, my son, my son!’”