The defective sanitary condition of hundreds of houses in this district render it imperative that something should not only be said, but done. But the question arises—who is to do it? I take it that the duty lies not alone with either the tenant, or landlord, or parochial authorities. It is a work of co-operation in which there is work for each; and each must do his work. In endeavouring to urge this sanitary reformation it may be Utopian to expect a perfect result; yet I am convinced that much can be done to render even the present wretched dwellings of the poor much more healthy than they are at present. I have frequently in my visits to Charles-street, Stephen-street, Stephen’s-court, and, in fact, in the houses contiguous, met, on going upstairs in the morning, a hot, fetid air. On going into the rooms I have observed that the walls were damp with exhalations caused by so many herding together. I have naturally requested the windows to be opened, in order to let out the hot and impure air, and, to my dismay, I have almost invariably found that the upper sash was a fixture. This state of things is to be deplored, inasmuch as it prevents efficient ventilation and is not only injurious to health but beyond the means of poor lodgers to remedy. I would venture to suggest the propriety of landlords seeing that all windows be made to open at the top, or a square of glass be removed and a perforated tin plate be inserted in its place, or better still, a window ventilator. A brick removed out of the chimney, close to the ceiling, and a valve fitted so as to allow the escape of foul air up the flue, is a good means of ventilation. There are many ways of ventilating an apartment; and it matters little how it is done if it be done efficiently. If any one of the above methods be adopted I feel sure it would be a great boon to many poor.