I would suggest that a first and second class swimming bath be built at the south side of the Serpentine when its depth has been equalised, as proposed, to 5 ft. 6 in., shelving into shallow water towards the shore. These ought, I think, to be, not floating baths, but permanent constructions of light and elegant appearance. Each bath should be at least 150 yards long by 50 or 60 wide. Round the bath should run a platform flagged with slates, with steps down to the water, and spring-boards. There should be boxes for bathers round the whole bath, to the number of 200 or 300. These boxes should be numbered, and have complete doors, with a pane of glass let in, and closing with a spring lock, to be opened by the attendant to the bather having a corresponding ticket. This for the security of the bather’s clothes and valuables. For what right, I may ask, has any one to invite me into his bathing establishment, induce me to divest myself of my clothes and valuables, and plunge beneath the water, while he offers me no security for my property, which he directs me hang up in a perfectly open box, and cautions me to look after myself? How I am to look after it when I am swimming in or under the water he does not inform me. Even if, when so engaged, I were to perceive a thief occupied in rifling my pockets or appropriating my garments, it would avail little that _de profundis clamavi_, “stop thief!” By the time I could get out of the water and make towards him, he would probably have got clear off with his booty. Therefore, the simple plan adopted in the Marylebone first class swimming bath, of full doors closing with a spring-lock, is indispensable for the security and comfort of the bather.[7] To make the security absolute, it would only be requisite to provide each bather with a ticket of bone or metal, the number of which would correspond with his box; and this by a simple contrivance might be fastened to his bathing drawers (without which no one should be allowed to bathe), and the attendant would only open the door corresponding to this number. I have dwelt, in what some may think too much detail, on this apparently trivial matter, but from experience I can testify that much of the comfort of a bath depends on one being assured that one’s clothes are in a place of safety. The boxes should be closed in at top with a glazed roof, as in the Hammersmith bath, and the roof, either glazed or of corrugated iron, should extend over the platform, as in a railway station, to afford shelter from sun or rain when not in the bath. The water should be quite open to sun and air. The prices of admission need not be greater—might indeed be less—than those of the generality of the parochial baths, viz. fourpence, first class, twopence, second class. For this the bather should be supplied with one or two towels, and bathing drawers, unless he prefer to wear his own. And here I would hint that the towels should always be washed after