The exercise in swimming is quite peculiar. The body and limbs being completely supported by the medium in which they are immersed, the muscles are not employed in supporting their weight, consequently their movements have a freedom not enjoyed in any other exercise, and are attended with little or no fatigue. This is, however, only the case with experienced and confident swimmers, swimming deliberately and at their ease. The inexperienced swimmer finds the exercise very fatiguing. This, I believe, is chiefly owing to his unconscious efforts to keep more of his body out of the water than would be effected by its own natural buoyancy. The experienced swimmer lets the water do all the supporting business, and consequently swims deeper than the tyro. Very rapid swimming, of course, will soon exhaust even the most experienced swimmer, just as any other violent exercise will exhaust. The quickest swimmers show very little above the water when swimming a race. Most swimmers when making a spurt throw themselves on one side. If on the right side, they make a downward stroke with their right arm, then a horizontal stroke with their left, and lastly the legs are forcibly extended, during which last movement their right arm is stretched in front as a cutwater, and the nose and mouth brought to the surface for respiration. Swimming on the left side is done in the same way, _mutatis mutandis_. In this kind of swimming the only parts of the body visible above water are a small portion of the face, and that only for a short time, and occasionally the left shoulder and arm to the elbow. It has a very ridiculous appearance, and as the swimmer from his position cannot see in front of him, it often happens that two competitors in the races that take place in our short swimming baths will, when swimming in opposite directions, run their heads full tilt against one another to their mutual discomfiture. But it is not this sort of swimming I mean, when speaking of swimming as a hygienic agent, a pleasant recreation, or a useful art. It so happens that swimming competitions are confined almost entirely to rapidity of swimming, and everything is sacrificed by competitors to quickness. The kind of swimming cultivated by our swimming athletes, whether amateur or professional, is neither graceful nor salubrious, and its utility, except for gaining cups and medals, is very doubtful. The secret of the hygienic effects of swimming in sea, lake, or river, is gentle exercise in a medium whose temperature excites the system to vigorous reaction. I do not attach much importance to swimming in cold water as a means of cleansing the body. There is no doubt that it does wash off the grosser impurities that accumulate about the skin, but it cannot be considered as a substitute for the daily tub with plenty of soap, by means of which only can the skin be kept perfectly clean and wholesome.