It has been shewn that water as a curative agent, has been known from the remotest period; but its means of application were insufficient. In the days of Pliny, it agitated the Roman world. In the sixteenth century, great efforts were made in our own country to introduce it into practice, and again more lately, the subject was agitated, but it did not advance. Thus it has been with all great discoveries--witness Steam. Le Caus, who discovered its powers two hundred years ago, was consigned to a mad-house. The French Academy of Science denounced Fulton's discovery as a chimera and absurd, as it did Hydropathy a few years since. Others, anxious for the existence of a hidden treasure, were ever in search of it, each step conducted slowly nearer the goal; but a Watt, was required to give full and vigorous development to its powers. Thus, it has been with water, which, unaided by its present manifold modes of application, was nearly as ungovernable as the steam without the engine. All nations recognised and many partially profited by the healing properties of water; but the genius of a Priessnitz was required to explore its capabilities and resources, and, by reducing them to a science, confer an inestimable boon on mankind and scatter to the winds the accumulated fallacies of ages. If all these effects which we have shown, are to be produced by Hydropathic appliances, is it not evident there is something to be learnt? An acquaintance with its details, its _modus operandi_, can only be acquired by study and experience, as Lady Morgan says, "knowledge is a fruit which no longer grows upon trees; on the contrary, it partakes more of the nature of the truffle, and must be dug for by those who are desirous of tasting it."[2] [2] The following letter, extracted from Miss Costello's "Summer among the Bocages and Vines," chronicles another melancholy instance of persecution:-- "Paris, Feb. 1641. "My dear Effiat,