After various bequests, including the interesting one of $100 “unto the redemption of the poor English captives in Constantinople,” the will of James Peckett, merchant, made in Smyrna, May 3, 1634, breaks off suddenly, and we read: “The aforegoing is as much as was delivered by Mr. James Peckett, who afterwards falling weaker in body and his memory decaying, it was propounded unto him whom he should make choice of for to be his executors in trust, whereupon he nominated Mr. Richard Chambers of London, Merchant, and Mr. Lawrence Greene, Consul for the English nation in Smyrna, and afterwards for his overseers, not knowing who to nominate through his weakness there was propounded unto him whether he would accept of Mr. Rainsbrow and Mr. Thomas Moody of London, merchants: unto the which he answered ‘Yea.’” This will is, therefore, a mingling of the written and unwritten testament. The nuncupative will, the will by word of mouth, was common in former times; but since the stricter methods of the Wills Act, 1837, it has been mainly in abeyance. Attempts are still made from time to time to establish the words of dying men. A recent action in the Court, to legalise some strangely made codicils, reminds us of James Peckett’s acquiescence and of older methods. “Don’t you want to leave something to me?” the testator was asked. He answered, “Yes,” the question was put, “How much?” and a codicil straightway prepared. The prevalence of such wills, without even the necessity of a written record signed by the testator, must have led to much abuse. But not always were testators so complaisant. Roger Potter, of Mildenhill, Suffolk, a bachelor “in the time of his last sickness (viz.) upon or about the 12th day of November 1664, did make and declare his last will and testament nuncupative as followeth. He being moved to make his will, he answered ‘With all my heart.’ And then, being asked or demanded whom he would make executor, he replied ‘Executrix,’ and named Mall, meaning as was understood by those present Mary Potter, his brother’s grandchild, whom he especially regarded. And then being moved what he would give to any of his friends, he expressed an unwillingness to do any more, saying ‘Why do you urge me?’” So, too, Reginald Greene “on a Sunday, being the fifth day of July A.D. 1635, ... being then very sick but of good and perfect mind and memory, with an intent to make his last will and testament nuncupative spake these words, or the like in effect, as followeth, viz.: He gave all his goods chattels and debts unto his cousin John Greene ... and his son John Greene. Judith Springatt being present did desire that she might be remembered in his will and to have a legacy therein: he replied ‘No, no,’ and said he had been always beholding to his cousin John Greene and that he and his boy, meaning his said son John Greene, should have all that he had.”