MENDICITY. 
Of 
To MEN'DICATE, v. a. [mendico, Lat. mendier, Fr.] 
To beg; to aik alms. 
MENDI'CITY, f. [mendicatas , Lat.] The life or prac¬ 
tices of a beggar. 
Poverty and riches are relative terms : they are confe- 
quences of the unequal diftribution of property; and 
this, in its turn, is a confequence of civilization, and of 
the fpirit which accompanies affociations of men. Riches 
are the refult of accumulation : but the favage never ac¬ 
cumulates. He who depends for the fupport of life on 
the fiih he takes, or on the deer he runs down, has no 
temptation-to preferve his capture: it is of a perilhable 
nature ; if he does not ufe it, and thatprefently, it ceafes 
to be property, and becomes a mafs of dilfolution and 
putridity. Society, in changing the condition of man¬ 
kind, makes no individual poorer than he would be in 
a ftate of nature; but it enables others to become rich. 
No man, born under the molt polilhed Hate of fociety, 
can be poorer than he who relies on the wild bounties 
of nature for fuitenance, and iliares the unenvied and 
unenviable lot of the brute animals, which would be 
his condition, did not fociety exilt. But the wildeft of 
men mult labour, in home manner, to obtain a fupply 
for his wants : he mult Itrike a filh with his fpear, or 
transfix a bealt with his arrow: this implies indultry in 
fome lhape: for he mult conftruCt that fpear, and the 
bow which Ihoots his arrow, together with the arrow 
that is lhot. It is, then, as the reward of his indultry, 
he obtains his daily lupport. Now, fociety does nothing 
more than appoint to men that courfe of indultry which 
the general good commands each clafs to purfue. The 
agriculturift who trims a hedge, the Ihepherd who tends 
his flock, even the boy fcare-crow who frightens away 
birds from the field, each contributes lomething toward 
the general welfare, for which, in return, he claims fub- 
filtence from the general flock. It is, then, becaufe 
he is induftrious, in his way, that he expeCts reward : 
his way is pointed out, and he follows it. But what 
Ihall be faid of him who is not induftrious ? who con¬ 
tributes nothing to the general flock ? who obtains not 
his own fubfiftence from the liberality of nature ? who, as 
to any definable advantage, is inferior to the wildeft of 
men in the wildeft of -woods ? Why does he not do fvme- 
thing for a living? Where are fucli men found? Only 
where wealth and property are abundant. They follow 
riches; and, in proportion as riches accumulate, they in- 
creafe. In a poor country there are no beggars: not 
becaufe all are willing to work, but becaufe none has 
any overplus from which to bellow. He who would 
beg, knows that his clamours are ufelefs; they are wafted 
on the defert air: he therefore labours. And yet in the 
pooreft of countries there are ufuallyfome who are able to 
lhow compaflion to real fubjeCts of accidental diftrefs; 
who can in fome humble degree, but with cheerful feel¬ 
ings, alleviate misfortune, and impart confolation. 
The fubjeCt of real accidental (by which we mean, un- 
deferved ) diftrefs, is a fufferer under the hand of Pro¬ 
vidence : the idle and the lazy have none to blame but 
themlelves for their fufterings. True it is, that in coun¬ 
tries long fettled the population may exceed the produc¬ 
tive powers of the fpot; and it is alfo true, that trade 
and manufactures fhift from place to place in the fame 
country, fo that what at one time fupports many work¬ 
men, at another time yields no employment. But, if 
the labourers in thefe places have been diligent and 
civil, their character rarely leaves them entirely dellitute : 
they find fome refource in that, and more in their fru¬ 
gality, if fuch has been their habit. The milerable 
through misfortune are not defpiled; thofe who have 
fullered by the waves, have been in all ages allowed the 
privilege of the “ painted picture reprefenting their fuf- 
ferings.” 
Exiguitfljup cibus ; merja rate naufragus ajj'em 
Dum petit, et pitta J'e tcmpejlate tuetur, 
fays Juvenal, in whofe verfe we trace manners congenial 
with our own. But this Indulgence was then, as it is 
now, an occafion of deception: 
Cantet ft naufragus; affem ' 
Protulerim ? cantas, cumfraSta te in trabe pittnm 
Ex liumero portes1 Verum , nec notte paratum 
Plorabit, qui me volet incurvajje querela. Perf. i. 
Say, Aioft!d a fhipwreck’d failor fing his woe, 
Wouldft thou be mov’d to pity,- or bellow 
An alms ? What’s more prepofterous than to fee 
A merry beggar ? mirth in mifery ? 
He feems a trap for charity to lay, 
And cons by night his lelfon for the day. Drydcn. 
The blind, who are abfolutely unable to work, have 
an unqueftionable claim on the compaflion of fociety ; and 
this has been felt in all ages, from thofe whom we read of 
as begging by the way-fide in the Gofpels, to the hof- 
pital of the privileged Quinze-Vingts at Paris, and the 
various permiflions, formerly by exprefs licenfe, known 
among ourfelves. 
It is not with the truly fuffering that the ftatefman and 
the philanthropiil are at variance; but with that im¬ 
moral clafs, which, inftead of making perfonal exertions, 
preys on the property of the induftrious : thofe who ftudy 
“ by- night” the artifices of the day, as Perfius lays. Wit- 
nefs alio our old friend Horace : 
Nec J'cmel irrifus, triviis attollere curat 
Fratto crure planum: licet illi plnrima manet 
Lacryma ; per J'anttum juratus dicat O/iritn, 
Credite ; non ludo: crudeles tollite claudum 
Quart peregrinum, vicinia raucet reclamat. Epift. 17. 
He whom a lying lamenefs once deceives 
No more the falling vagabond believes ; 
And, though with ftreaming tears the caitiff cries, 
“ Help me, ah cruel! help a wretch to rife.” 
Though loud he fwear, “ Indeed my leg is broke ; 
By great Ofiris, I no longer joke:” 
Yet the hoarfe village anfwers to his cries, 
“ Go find a ftranger to believe your lies.” Francis. 
This broken leg, this fprawling in the ftreet, to be 
picked up by the compaffionate, was much the fame 
piece of aCting as we have leen praCtifed in our own day ; 
though fainting-fits have been more in vogue, efpecially 
among the women, till, at length, impofition has wearied 
charity to death. But the party who could Hoop to fuch 
impofition could alfo embrace a fair opportunity of dis¬ 
playing other powers. It was fo in Rome: it was fo in 
London ; years, we might fay, ages ago. Thus lings our 
poet Gay, deferibing the manners of the metropolis in 
his days : 
Where Lincoln’s Inn’s wide fpace is rail’d around, 
Crofs not with vent’rous ftep ; there oft is found 
The lurking thief, who, while the day-light Ihone, 
Made the walls echo with his begging tone : 
That crutch, which late compaflion mov’d, fliall wound 
Thy bleeding head, and fell thee to the ground. 
The fame practices Hill prevail, though not in the fame 
places ; thus the public is plundered both ways. The 
benevolence of our countrymen is one great caufe of this 
evil: it cannot be cured, while charity imparts greater 
fums than honefty could acquire: the trade of begging 
is not the leaft profitable trade, though, of all that can 
be named, it is the leaft deferving. 
The lubjeCt has employed the talents of the wifeft; 
but the difficulties of the cafe feem to have puzzled So¬ 
lomon himfelf; for he hints that “ a thief is not defpifed, 
who fteals when he is hungry(Prov. vi. 30.) meaning 
perhaps, that heavy punifhment is mifplaced in vifiting 
a tranfgreffion enforced by hard neceffity, to lave life; 
and the ancient laws of the original Britons fo far coincide 
with this idea, as to enaCt, that “ the thief is not to be 
puniflied with death, who has alked in vain for relief at 
three towns, and at three times three lioufes in each 
town.” This authority proves, that our ifland has, in 
all ages, been afflicted by this evil 5 and that long before 
