and in expressing a somewhat clamorous and overacted sympathy
with sufferings which cannot for a moment be compared in severity with
those which are every day inflicted on the helpless of their own sex, in
ministering to their own factitious and capricious wants. The remark may
appear harsh, but the evidence before us fully warrants it--that
probably in no occupation whatever--not in the printing fields of
Lancashire--not, in the lace trade of Nottingham--not in the collieries
of Scotland--scarcely in the workshops of Willenhall--most assuredly not
in the cotton factories of Manchester, (which a few years ago the
fashionable fair of London were so pathetic in lamenting)--can any
instances of cruelty be met with which do not "whiten in the shade" of
those which every spring and autumn season sees practiced--unreprobated,
and till now nearly unknown--in the _millinery establishments_ of the
metropolis.

Theand the mines beneath
them. The pauper, to breathe the air or drink the waters, must first
find a place where he may rightfully enjoy them. He can find, at all
times, no such place, and is compelled, by his necessities, to inhale
the close and putrid air of small rooms, damp cellars and crowded
factories, and to drink insufficient quantities of impure water,
furnished to him at a price he can ill afford. He pays for the water
which he drinks, because it has ceased to be common property. He is not
free, because he has no where that he may rightfully lay his head.
Private property has monopolized the earth, and destroyed both his
liberty and equality. He has no security for his life, for he cannot
live without employment and adequate wages, and none are bound