swelling, and afterwards the colour changing to that of
a mortified state. On the following Sunday he took advice of a surgeon,
who attended him until his death. Notwithstanding all the applications
that were made the mortification increased, and showed itself in
different parts of the body. He was visited by a clergyman, who
administered the sacrament to him, without any knowledge of what had
happened before--the man appearing to be extremely ignorant of religion,
having been accustomed to swear, to drink, to game, and to profane the
Sabbath. After receiving the sacrament he said--'Now, I must never sin
again.' He hoped God would forgive him, having been wicked not above six
years, and that whatever should happen he would not play at cards again.

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 the 4th of March, just about a
fortnight after the utterance of his terrible imprecation.

The worthy sheriff of Gloucestershire goes on to say that the man's eyes
were open when he died, and could not be closed by the common method,
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,' says the sheriff, 'this is a mistake; for, from the most
creditable witnesses, I am fully convinced 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, in the most literal sense, be said, that his
flesh rotted on his bones before he died.'

At the request of the sheriff, the surgeon (a Mr Pegler) who attended
the unfortunate man, sent in the following report:--'Sir,--You desire me
to acquaint you, in writing, with what I know relating to the melancholy
case of the late Richard Parsons; a request I readily comply with,
hoping that his sad catastrophe will serve to admonish all those who
profane the sacred name of God.

'February 27th last I visited Richard Parsons, who, I found, had an
inflamed leg, stretching from the foot almost to the knee, tending to a
gangrene. The tenseness and redness of the skin was almost gone off,
and became of a duskish and livid colour,