And here I should say a few words respecting the prejudice in favour of sea-bathing, which is almost universal with us. It is believed that there is something in the sea water that renders it far more salutary than fresh water. This is undoubtedly true with respect to certain morbid states of the body—such as scrofula; but it is far from being universally true. To many persons the seaside and sea water are little else than poisonous, and bathing in the sea, or mere residence near the sea, produces very prejudicial effects. To most healthy persons it is not the contents of the water that do good, but the exercise and the reactions caused by the temperature and the other elements I have indicated above. By many swimming in the sea is preferred to swimming in fresh water for various reasons, independent of any medicinal action of its salts. They like the charm of bathing in the boundless ocean with all its romantic accompaniments; they swim with greater facility and confidence, as the greater specific gravity of salt water floats them higher. It may be urged that medical men invariably send people to the sea for bathing. That is nearly true; but then medical men are not altogether free from sharing the national prejudice in favour of the superior salubrity of sea water. Moreover, it is for patients their advice is sought, not healthy persons, and the maladies these patients are suffering from may seem to them to require the medicinal effect of sea water. But undoubtedly the chief reason for their recommendation is, that they know that there are facilities for bathing in the sea, but they would be much at a loss to name any place where their clients could obtain comfortable freshwater open-air bathing. For my own part, though I love the sea in all its moods, and in part because it has so many moods, I dislike the sticky hair and generally dirty feeling it causes, and its nasty taste when one gets a mouthful; and I would much prefer that its waters were as soft, sweet, and cleansing as those of a Scotch or Swiss lake. To my mind the finest swimming bath in the world is the Lake of Geneva. There you have the changing moods of the ocean, while the water is fresh and sweet, and of such a lovely blue, that your body when immersed in it seems as white as marble, and, like Narcissus, you are ready to fall in love with your beautified person. Give us freshwater baths in the open air, and a removal to the seaside will not be desired or needed by many who are now attracted thither.