The above, as far as I can ascertain, are all the places expressly constructed for swimming purposes at present existing in London,[3] and if they fully answered the ends for which they were designed, and enabled their frequenters to obtain the full benefit of the hygienic exercise of swimming, one could scarcely say that they were too few for even such an immense town. But they are of little use in a hygienic point of view. I must remind the reader that in order to derive the full health-giving advantages from swimming, it must be performed in cool and deep water, with plenty of room, and surrounded by the wholesome accessaries of fresh air and sunlight. Moreover, the mind of the swimmer should not be harassed and anxious. Now, the London swimming baths satisfy none of these requirements. They are, with one exception (for we cannot count the three ancient plunge baths among swimming baths, on account of their puny dimensions), all tepid. This is no fixed temperature, but varies in every bath, and in the same bath at different times. It may mean any temperature from 65° to 80°, or upwards. The lower temperature would not be objectionable in the point of view of salubrity, but it would not be relished by the swimmers, who would insist on more warm water being added, or otherwise the most of them would forsake the bath. When the water approaches the higher temperature indicated, swimming in it is followed by languor and prostration, more prejudicial to health than otherwise. To me the water in this state feels sodden and lifeless, and though one can stay in it a long time without shivering, the longer one stays in the more prostrated does one feel afterwards, and a good cold douche or shower-bath would be required to restore anything like tone to the system. [3] There are, I believe, several additional tepid swimming baths in the course of construction in London and suburbs, and one has been recently opened at Stratford, but that town can scarcely be considered as part of London, though within the postal district, and as Mr. Sweedlepipe says, “we must draw the line somewhere.” Some may think I have not drawn the line narrowly enough, when I have included in my survey Hampstead, Hammersmith, Greenwich, and Blackheath, but I preferred to make it possibly too wide than to incur the reproach of having made it too narrow. The London swimming baths are all shallow, with two exceptions, and these are only six feet deep at their deepest part. There is consequently no opportunity for diving deep and experiencing the powerful influence of the pressure of a considerable column of water on the organs of respiration and circulation.