“After this, he was in great agony, chiefly delirious, spoke of his companions by name, and seemed as if his imagination was engaged at cards. He started, had distracted looks and gestures, and, in a dreadful fit of shaking and trembling, died on Tuesday morning, the 4th of March last: and was buried the next day at the parish church of Bisley. His eyes were open when he died, and could not be closed by the common methods; so that they remained open when he was put into the coffin. From this circumstance arose a report, that he _wished his eyes might never close_; but this was a mistake; for, from the most creditable witnesses, I am fully convinced that no such wish was uttered; and the fact is, that he did close his eyes after he was taken with the mortification, and either dozed or slept several times. “When the body came to be laid out, it appeared all over discoloured, or spotted; and it might be said, in the most literal sense, that his flesh rotted on his bones before he died.” But this is a digression. Among the deaths recorded in the _Gents’ Magazine_ for 1776, is “Ap. 30. William G——, Esq.: who, having been left £18,000, a few months before, by his father, lost it all by gaming, in less than a month; in the Rules of the King’s Bench.” “_Oct. 25, 1777._ At the Sessions for the County of Norfolk, a tradesman of Norwich, for cheating at cards, was fined £20, and sentenced to suffer six months’ imprisonment in the castle, without bail or main prize; and, in case the said fine was not paid at the expiration of the term, then to stand on the pillory, one hour, with his ears nailed to the same.” The gamblers of those days were giants in their way, there were George Selwyn, Lord Carlisle, Stephen Fox, who, on one occasion was fleeced most unmercifully at a West-end gambling house. He went into it with £13,000, and left without a farthing. His younger brother, Charles James, was a notorious gambler, and, if the following anecdote is true, not over honourable. He ranked among the admirers of Mrs Crewe. A gentleman lost a considerable sum to this lady at play, and, being obliged to leave town suddenly, gave Mr Fox the money to pay her, begging him to apologise to the lady for his not having paid the debt of honour in person. Fox, unfortunately, lost every shilling of it before morning. Mrs Crewe often met the supposed debtor afterwards, and, surprised that he never noticed the circumstance, at length, delicately hinted the matter to him. “Bless me,” said he, “I paid the money to Mr Fox three months ago.” “Oh! did you, Sir?” said Mrs Crewe, good-naturedly, “then probably he paid me, and I forgot it.”