One of the most singular cases that ever came before a court of justice was the dispute as to the validity of the will of the late Mr. W. R. Smee, probated in 1880 in England. That the testator was a man of exceptional ability is beyond doubt. His powers of organization were so good that he was employed by the Post Office authorities to readjust several departments which had got into a state of disorder. A pamphlet of his, on the question of the “Repeal of the Malt Duties,” attracted the attention of the acting Lord Chief Baron and Mr. Bass, who sought an interview with the writer; and after 1860 he wrote many able articles for various newspapers. At the same time, there is equally little doubt that Mr. Smee had insane delusions of the sort which most commonly afflict lunatics. He believed that he was a son of George IV, and rightful heir to the throne, and in 1859, before the composition of the articles just mentioned, he wrote a letter to the Prince Consort, enclosing a preposterous petition to the Queen on the subject of his “rights.” This absurd document stated that when out walking with his nurse he had been recognized by a crowd as the Prince of Wales, and escorted home amid loud hurrahs. The king had taken him on his royal knee, and said to him, “Poor boy, poor boy, get on with your learning. A great destiny is preparing for you, though you do not know it.” Every morning, he asserted, drugs were administered which took away his memory. The Duke of Wellington, disguised in a mechanic’s dress, followed him round Finsbury Circus; and, during his last illness, Mr. William Smee, senior, had said: “Extraordinary and unheard of means have been adopted to keep him down, or he must have come to the throne.” In his will the testator left his property to the corporation of Brighton, wishing to be associated with his supposed royal father as a benefactor to that town. As must have been generally expected, the Court pronounced against the will which benefited the popular seaside resort. “The fact that a man was capable of transacting business, to whatever extent that might go, however complicated the business might be, and however considerable the powers of intellect it might require, did not exclude the idea of his being of unsound mind,” the president stated in the course of his interesting judgment. “A man might be a good carpenter and follow his calling, and yet his mind might be tainted with insanity to such an extent that he might be held irresponsible for a crime on the ground that he did not know the nature of the act he committed. Therefore, all the arguments addressed to the jury on the subject of the testator’s capacity to deal with complex subjects, to write pamphlets, and to make calculations, had nothing to do with the question whether he was of unsound mind or not. He was admittedly of unsound mind, because shown by that which was the most conclusive symptom and evidence of