In the morning I went a mile and a half north of the town to inspect a spring that the dean and a number of other people used. The dean was gouty and, thanks to the spring water, he had passed a number of stones. It lay in a marshy and mossy situation but nevertheless pushed up sand. The water, however, was clear, sparkled in the glass and showed a sulphur-spring iris when held up to the sun. It tasted slightly of vitriol but was easily arunk. When swirled around it smelled like gunpowder. It turned a solution of oak-apple reddish but did not stain white paper, nor did it change blue paper. There was not much ochre in it. It produced a silvery scum.