The author of this little work sincerely regrets the loss of a sketch that he made from a black man, whose countenance and figure were the most interesting of any of the tribe. He was nearly six feet in height, rather round in the shoulders, and usually wore a covering of green baize; indeed altogether he brought to recollection that exquisite statue of Cicero, in the Pomfret collection of marbles at Oxford, so beautifully engraved by Sherwin. This fellow, who had often been taken up, has not been seen for several months. [Illustration] Go-cart, Billies in bowls, or Sledge-beggars, are denominations for those cripples whose misfortunes will not permit them to travel in any other way; and these are next presented to the reader's notice. Men of this class are to be found in every country. The little fellow above depicted in the cart is copied from Luca Carlevarij's 100 Views in Venice, a set of long quarto plates, most spiritedly etched, and published in 1703. Hogarth, whose active eye caught Nature in all her garbs, has introduced in his Wedding of the Industrious Apprentice, a cripple well known in those days under the appellation of Philip in the Tub, a fellow who constantly attended weddings, and retailed the ballad of "Jesse, or the Happy Pair." Dublin has ever been famous for a Billy in the Bowl. A very remarkable fellow of this class, well known in that city, and who thought proper to leave Ireland on the Union, was met in London by a Noble Lord, who observed, "So you are here too!" "Yes, my Lord," replied the beggar, "the Union has brought us all over." The back view of the person exhibited in the following plate, is that of Samuel Horsey, who, in December 1816, had been a London beggar for thirty-one years. Of this man there are various opinions, and it is much to be doubted if the truth can be obtained even from his own mouth. He states that Mr Abernethy cut off his legs in St Bartholomew's Hospital, but he does not declare from what cause; so that being deprived of the power of gaining a subsistence by labour, he was forced to become a beggar. By some persons he is styled the King of the Beggars, but certainly without the least foundation. He says that no one has been less acquainted with beggars than himself; and as for his having the command of a district, that he utterly denies. His walks, or rather movements, are not always confined; on some days he slides to Charing Cross, but is oftener to be seen at the door of Mr Coutts's banking-house, perhaps with an idea that persons just after they have received money are more likely to bestow charity. Of all other men, Horsey has the most dexterous mode of turning, or rather swinging himself, into a gin-shop. He dashes the door open by forcibly striking the front of his sledge and himself against it.