"The children are frequently reduced to such insensibility, as not to know when they have finished their cardings, but their hands and feet have continued to perform the evolutions of their work. Many times, of an evening, when I have passed on from child to child in a woollen mill, each has turned up its little face, and anxiously inquired, 'What o'clock is't?' I have answered, 'Seven.' 'Seven?' was the rejoinder, 'Why, it's three hours to ten, isn't it? We moan't gee up till ten and past.' This, delivered in a melancholy tone, has made me thus reflect as I returned home: 'I know that you must remain at work till past ten. I know, also, that you are called out of bed at five in the morning, and although it may be eleven at night before you reach home, you must again leave your beds at five; and this, too, every morning in the year, Sundays excepted. Many of you will have to grope about in the dark for the greasy rags which scarcely cover you. No matter, you must face all weathers. Though the roads be choked with snow, and the frost would make the strongest shiver, let the winds roar, or the rain fall, still there must be no delay. At five every morning you must leave your humble homes, and, lamentable to reflect, ye 'moan't gee up till ten and past.'" On the second reading of the "Factories Regulation Bill," March 16th, Mr. Sadler, in the course of a very long speech, made the following statement:--