The _Factory_ is a square stone building of inconsiderable dimension, having an upper story: here are crowded all the workshops for converting the wool of the colony into cloth; one side being appropriated to picking, carding, and spinning; the other to weaving;—the males employed in this service mixing, in the hours of work, indiscriminately with the females. It is locked at night, and the key intrusted to a porter, who has a lodging-place at the entrance. In this building the female convicts, whose behaviour after coming into the colony may have brought them under the notice of the police, and is deemed deserving of particular punishment, are _ordered_ to be confined and kept to hard labour: they are to sleep within it at night, and are _supposed_ to have no communication with any one outside the walls. How well these orders and expectations are fulfilled, may be seen hereafter. Detached from the Factory is a wooden building, in a state of decay, open almost at every point; “all the elements of nature may enter in:” unfortunately, too, it is permeable to the unhallowed step of drunken licentiousness in its vilest garb. In this crazy mansion the women from the Morley were placed on their arrival; and during the day-time were not allowed to stray far from it, at least not before they had done a certain quantity of work; but this being performed, they were at liberty to go whither they pleased, do what they pleased, and entertain whom they pleased. This information does not rest on hearsay, or on authority which could excite my distrust: I visited the place at all hours, to ascertain the fact, and have the evidence of my own senses in proof of the assertion, that the women had free egress and ingress at all times. It has just been stated, that females confined in the inclosed Factory, by way of punishment, are not permitted to pass the gate without the knowledge of the Superintendent. Whether this permission be easily obtained, or otherwise, I pretend not to know; but that women so confined are frequently seen outside the walls,—as it is expressed, “beating the rounds,”—is undeniably certain. This I have myself had the mortification to witness in the case of one of the women who had been under my care, but whose bad conduct subsequently had subjected her to “confinement in the Factory.”