One Mr. White, a surgeon, resides also in this town. But before I
speak of this gentleman, I must observe that I say nothing from
personal knowledge; though if I did, I have too good an opinion of
his sense to believe he would be pleased with being flattered or
complimented in print. But I must be true to matter of fact. This
gentleman has begun a collection or chamber of rarities, and with
good success too. I acknowledge I had not the opportunity of
seeing them; but I was told there are some things very curious in
it, as particularly a sea-horse carefully preserved, and perfect in
all its parts; two Roman urns full of ashes of human bodies, and
supposed to be above 1,700 years old; besides a great many valuable
medals and ancient coins. My friend who gave me this account, and
of whom I think I may say he speaks without bias, mentions this
gentleman, Mr. White, with some warmth as a very valuable person in
his particular employ of a surgeon. I only repeat his words. "Mr.
White," says he, "to whom the whole town and country are greatly
indebted and obliged to pray for his life, is our most skilful
surgeon." These, I say, are his own words, and I add nothing to
them but this, that it is happy for a town to have such a surgeon,
as it is for a surgeon to have such a character.
The country round Ipswich, as if qualified on purpose to
accommodate the town for building of ships, is an inexhaustible
store-house of timber, of which, now their trade of building ships
is abated, they send very great quantities to the king's building-
yards at Chatham, which by water is so little a way that they often
run to it from the mouth of the river at Harwich in one tide.
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