A curious case was brought before the court not long ago, in which there were many wills, and the validity of a will made forty-four years before the death of the testator was upheld. It was the case of a lunatic, who, during the period of his lunacy made six wills, none of which (as being those of a person of unsound mind) had any force. The deceased, not being of a dangerous disposition, had some liberty, and availed himself of his opportunities to deposit wills at Somerset House. Depositories for the wills of the living are provided under the Wills Act of 1837: and there they were by him solemnly placed, and the Registrar’s receipt was duly given. Other testamentary documents were deposited elsewhere. The making of wills seems certainly with him to have been an obsession. It is strange to think that it was necessary to go back forty-four years to find a valid will, and that for all the latter part of his life he was, as it were, non-existent. But how narrow is the line which distinguishes the sound from the unsound mind is shown by innumerable actions in the Probate Court! It was not for nothing that in olden days testators affirmed their sanity and thanked God for it. A good instance of an ordinary polycodicillic will is that of Margaret Evans, who, during the ten years from 1775 to 1785, made a will with twelve codicils annexed. Each codicil she introduces as a “memorandam [_sic_] by way of addition” to her will. But as an instance of something more than ordinary it would be hard to surpass the wills and testamentary papers, proved in 1760 and 1761, of Dr. Thomas Cheyney, Dean of Winchester. These papers range in date from 1724 to 1759, a nightmare, doubtless, to his luckless executors and friends. The irony of this case is that the Dean wished his affairs to be administered privately. “I desire my three executors, as far as practicable, to keep all or any resolutions they shall take relating to my affairs secret among themselves, as I design and desire in all things they may remain accountable to their own consciences and to each other, and not to any other person in any place whatsoever.” But such was the chaos of documents that it was necessary to take the directions of a Court of Equity, the executors stating that they “from the multiplicity of the said papers, and the contents of the same, find it impracticable for them to administer and transact the said testator’s affairs with that privacy and secrecy, as he seems by the general tenor of his said will and codicil to have designed, ... and that it will be necessary for them to take the directions of a Court of Equity concerning the same.”