The virtues of common water

In Short

This seventeenth-century treatise serves as a spirited manifesto for the health-giving properties of common water. Drawing on forty years of personal practice and the observations of learned physicians, it argues that the consumption of pure water, coupled with a spare, temperate diet, is the most effective way to prevent disease and extend human life. By debunking the necessity of wine, brandy, and heavy meals, the work positions water as a miraculous, accessible, and economical tool for correcting the internal heat and corruption that plague the modern body.

The Story

The narrative begins with a bold premise: that water is an "universal remedy" for the benefit of all mankind. The author, having transitioned from a life of standard habits to one defined by water-drinking between the ages of thirty and seventy-four, presents himself as living proof of his theory. He rejects the "pompous" and often ineffective prescriptions of contemporary apothecary medicine, arguing instead that health is a matter of simple maintenance. The argument unfolds through a series of observations on the digestive system, which he posits is the primary engine of both health and decay. By fueling this engine with "fair water," one avoids the "hot spirituous liquors" that ferment, turn sour, and deposit the acidic salts responsible for gout, melancholia, and internal obstructions.

As the text progresses, the scope of water's power expands from basic digestion to the management of acute crises. The author describes water as a sovereign balm for the "bloody flux," a life-saver during the throes of a fever, and a cooling agent for the "hot fretting blood" that manifests as blotches on the face. He provides vivid accounts of individuals, including sea captains and prisoners, who survived for weeks on nothing but water, demonstrating that the body can endure immense strain if the stomach is not burdened by gluttony. He challenges the reader to view water not as a lowly beverage, but as a sophisticated tool—one that can be used to induce vomiting to purge offensive matter or to strengthen the limbs through targeted bathing.

The narrative reaches its peak when the author addresses the inevitable skepticism of the wealthy and the habits of the elderly. He confronts the common belief that wine is "the old man’s milk," dismantling it with the observation that wine only exacerbates the heat and dryness of old age. He recounts the stories of long-lived individuals—some reaching 133 years—whose diets consisted entirely of bread, cheese, and water, contrasting their vigor with the "shriveled" and "scorched" condition of those who indulge in rich feasts and strong spirits. The work concludes with a moral imperative: health is a deliberate choice. By adopting a life of temperance and replacing strong drink with water, one prepares for a dignified, pain-free old age. The final message is one of liberation; by denying the intemperate desires of the palate, the reader gains not only physical health but the clarity and peace of mind that come with a clean, well-regulated body.

How It Unfolds

The Philosophy of Purity The author establishes the foundational argument that nature has provided a perfect, free remedy for all. He dismisses the reliance on expensive drugs, suggesting that most diseases are self-inflicted through dietary excess.

The Digestive Engine The focus shifts to the stomach, described as the center of all physical struggle. The author argues that strong liquors destroy the "proper ferment" required for digestion, whereas water maintains the body’s internal balance.

Crisis Management The text details how to use water to handle immediate threats, such as preventing a stroke, cooling a fever, or stopping a flux. He emphasizes that in these instances, water must be taken in "large draughts" rather than sparingly to be effective.

External Applications Beyond internal consumption, the author explores the benefits of external hydrotherapy. He explains how cold water bathing can resolve sprains, cure weakness in the joints, and even treat the bites of mad dogs.

The Moral of Temperance The work culminates in a broader critique of societal gluttony and the "fatal error" of the wealthy who trade their health for luxury. The author offers a final reflection on aging, arguing that water-drinking is the surest path to minimizing the decrepitude of one’s final years.

The People

The author, John Smith, is the central figure—a pragmatic observer who treats his own body as a forty-year laboratory. He is characterized by a mix of deep humility and stubborn conviction, convinced that his personal longevity and vigor are the direct result of his water-drinking regimen. He acts as a guide, constantly referencing the "eminent physicians" whose work he synthesizes, such as Dr. Gideon Harvey and Dr. Cheyne, using their authority to bolster his own practical experience.

In contrast, he describes the "gouty gentleman"—a man who finds temporary relief through water and temperate eating, only to fall back into the grip of his disease after a single bottle of wine. This figure serves as a cautionary tale of the struggle against social pressure and addiction. Then there is the "lusty fellow" in prison, whose ability to survive twenty days on water alone demonstrates the latent, untapped power of the human constitution. These figures are surrounded by the "poor country people" who, by necessity and habit, remain strong and upright into old age, serving as the silent, healthy foil to the "gluttons" of London. Through these characters, the author draws a clear line between the natural, hardy existence of the temperate and the fragile, disease-ridden life of the self-indulgent.

In Its Own Voice

The author highlights the simplicity of his method, noting that external ailments are easily managed by basic contact with cold water.

"For no more is to be done, as I have often found, than, as soon as can be, to put the part into a vessel of cold water for about two hours, which will prevent all swelling and pain, by repelling or keeping back the humours that otherwise would flow to the part."

Reflecting on his personal transition to a water-only lifestyle, he observes the stark difference in health between himself and his peers.

"For though water is accounted a contemptible drink, yet by beginning to make use of it about thirty years of age, before which I was often out of order, and continuing the use of it ever since, drinking very little wine or strong drink, I have attained to the age of seventy-four years."

What It's Really About

At its heart, the book is a critique of the "modern" lifestyle of the eighteenth century. It poses the fundamental question: why does society prioritize sensory pleasure over the long-term integrity of the vessel that sustains it? The author argues that the body is inherently self-correcting and that disease is almost always the result of an external "heat" introduced by fermented liquors and over-eating. The work is an argument for simplicity as a moral and physical virtue. It challenges the idea that sophisticated medicine or expensive diets are necessary for wellness, suggesting instead that the most effective solutions are the most primitive ones. Ultimately, the book is about the reclaiming of bodily agency through the rejection of consumer culture and the embrace of natural, accessible resources.

Why Read It Today

Readers with an interest in the history of medicine or the evolution of wellness culture will find this book fascinating. It captures a moment in time when the "medical" was intimately tied to the "moral," and the prose carries the earnest, slightly eccentric voice of an author who is genuinely eager to share a secret he believes could save the world.

The reading experience is idiosyncratic and occasionally demanding. You must be prepared for the period-specific language and a certain rigidity in the author's worldview—he has no patience for those who claim they "cannot" live without wine. However, for those who enjoy the "plain-living" philosophy, there is something deeply refreshing about his conviction. He strips away the noise of his era’s pharmaceutical industry and points directly to the simplest, most fundamental human need. You will likely walk away struck by how many of his observations—such as the importance of light suppers and the link between hydration and cognitive clarity—have become staples of modern nutritional advice. It is a stubborn, warm, and remarkably focused book that reminds the reader that the most profound health interventions are often the ones sitting right in front of us, waiting to be drunk.