Wörishofen six years ago, counting the house-numbers as he went along, he might have said to himself: "This is not a bad place, it has a good many buildings." Now, in the year 1894 going again through the same Wörishofen, and counting the old houses as they stood when he last saw them, and the new ones which had sprung up since, he might exclaim full of astonishment: "Well! how has it come about that the new houses are almost outnumbering the old ones? What can have influenced these people so powerfully as to cause them to build so much?" To this he could not obtain a better answer than the following: "Father Kneipp has written a book called: 'My Water-cure', and has sent it out into the world, as a father sends his son. This book has taught and enlightened young and old, rich and poor, high and low, as to how they should make use of water, and how they can by its various applications be cured of disease and be delivered from many ills, or at the very least find relief. On account of this book invalids have come to Wörishofen in increasing numbers from year to year, so that, at last, the available houses became insufficient for their accommodation,— and that is the reason why so many new buildings have been erected."
The book "My Water-cure" has now outlived its fiftieth edition and would like to celebrate its
JUBILEE
and to cry out to men, especially to the sick: "Learn ye to know water, its application and its effects, and it will bring you help where help is possible!"
As regards me, I can only rejoice and wish from my heart that, in times to come, all the sick may find this relief and help. I particularly wish that medical practitioners would hasten to make proper use of water, this gift of the Creator, and to grant this step-child a place in their households and among their store of remedies.
To the fiftieth edition I give the mission: Take care of the sick that they may be cured! Be a good friend to the healthy that they may not fall ill! And as I, a Priest, offer daily the Holy Sacrifice, so shall all those who come to Wörishofen, together with those who employ the cure at home, be included in my prayers, that they may obtain the blessing of Heaven for their recovery. Wörishofen, Candlemas-day, 1804.
THE AUTHOR.
INTRODUCTION.
JUST as on a tree no leaf resembles perfectly to another, so also do men's destinies differ one from the other. If every man were to write a sketch of his own life, we should have as many different tales as there are men. Intricate are the ways twisting themselves in our life in every direction, sometimes like an inextricable ball of confused silk, the threads of which seem to be laid without plan or purpose. So it frequently seems; but it never is so in reality. Faith darts its enlightening beam into the darkness, and shows how all these entangled paths serve wise purposes, and how all of them lead to one end, designed and fixed by the all-wise Creator from the beginning. The ways of providence are wonderful.
Looking back from the high watch-tower of old age on the past years of my life and all the complications of my paths, they seem to wind themselves sometimes on the brink of the abyss; but they lead against all expectation to the glorious heights of vocation, and finally attain them, and I have every reason to praise the tender and wise ruling of Providence, the more so as the paths which, according to human ideas, seemed to be sad and leading to death, showed to me and numberless others the opening to a new life.
I was more than 21 years old when I left my home as a weaver seeking employment; but, since the days of my childhood, something else had occupied my mind. With unspeakable pain and longing desire for the realization of my ideal, I had awaited this departure for long, long years, as my sole wish was to become a priest.
I went away then, not as was expected to throw the weaver's shuttle, but I hurried from place to place seeking for someone who would provide me with the means for studying. The now deceased Prelate Matthias Merkle (died 1881) at that time chaplain in Gronenbach, took me under his care, gave me private instructions during two years, and with indefatigable zeal tried to prepare me for the gymnasium, so that I was able to be received there at the end of that time. It was no easy task and its effects on my body and mind seemed to render all my efforts utterly useless. After five years of the greatest exertions and privations my strength both physical and mental was broken. Once my father came to town to take me away, and even now the words of the innkeeper, at whose inn we stopped, seem still to be ringing in my ears. "Weaver," he said, "this is the last time you will come to fetch your student.'' A physician in the army, a celebrated man, who at that time was known as a benevolent and generous helper of poor patients, visited me 90 times in the second last year of my studies, and in the last one more than a hundred times. He wished ever so much to help me, but my increasing debility rendered his medicinal knowledge and devoted charity unavailable. I myself had given up all hope long ago, and was expecting my end with quiet resignation. To procure a little amusement and distraction of mind, I used to run over the pages of many books. By chance — I only use this customary but insignificant word, because it is customary; for things never happen by chance — an unsightly little book fell into my hands; T opened it; it treated of the water-cure. I read the book and found in it descriptions of various diseases and the wonderful effects obtained by the use of the water-cure.
At last this was the thought which struck me: You may find your own state described in it. And so it was; my state was represented to a hair's breadth. What joy! What comfort! New hopes electrified my withered body and my still more withered mind. At first this little book was the straw to which I clung; soon afterwards it became the staff which supported the sufferer; to-day I acknowledge it to be the life-boat sent to me by a merciful Providence at the right time, at the hour of extreme need. This little book, treating of the healing power of fresh water, is written by a physician; the applications are most of them extremely rugged and rigid. I tried them for:! months, for (! months; no real improvement ensued, but at the same lime I did not grow worse and that gave me new courage. I spent the winter of 1849 in Dillingen. Two or three times a week I went to a solitary spot to bathe in the Danube for some moments. Quickly I ran to the spot; more speedily I hastened back to my warm room at home. This cold exercise never hurt me, but, as I thought, it was of no great use either. In 1850 I came to the Georgianum in Munich. And there I found a poor student who was in a much more miserable state than myself. The physician of the institution refused to give him the certificate of health necessary for his ordination, declaring that he would not live much longer. Now I had a dear companion whom I initiated into the mysteries of my little book, and we tried to surpass each other in the practice of the various water applications. In a short time my friend got the desired certificate, and at the present day he is still alive. I myself grew continually stronger, I became a priest and am living as such over 44 years. My friends tell me that they admire the power of my voice and are amazed at the bodily strength I enjoy at the age of 76. The water remained my well tested friend, and who can blame me, if I remain faithful to it also?
He who has been in want and misery himself, knows how to sympathize with the want and misery of his neighbor. Not all patients arc alike unfortunate, and surely he who has the means of regaining health, can easily reconcile himself with a short time of suffering. Such rich patients I have refused by the hundreds and thousands during the first years. But the poor man, who is needy and abandoned, given up by the physicians and no longer helped by medicaments and remedies, has every right to our sympathies. Great numbers of this kind of people are my favorite patients; such poor and entirely forsaken people I have never sent away. It would seem hard, unconscientious, and ungrateful to shut my door upon such poor sufferers, or to deny them the resources which brought me health and strength in my times of need.
The great number of sufferers, the still greater difference of their sufferings, urged me to enrich my experience in the use of water and to perfect the method of applying it.
To my first adviser, the well-known little book, I am always indebted for the introductory lessons I learned from it, hut I soon found out that many applications were too rigid, too violent and discouraging for human nature. For this reason people called at first the water-cure a "horse-cure," and up to this day many who abuse that which they do not understand, like to give the name of swindle and quackery to everything connected with the water-cure.