scape? Idleness of the
mind is much worse than that of the body: wit, without employment, is a
disease--the rust of the soul, a plague, a hell itself. As in a standing
pool, worms and filthy creepers increase, so do evil and corrupt
thoughts in an idle person; the soul is contaminated.... Thus much I
dare boldly say: he or she that is idle, be they of what condition they
will, never so rich, so well allied, fortunate, happy--let them have
all things in abundance and felicity that heart can wish and desire, all
contentment--so long as he, or she, or they, are idle, they shall never
be pleased, never well in body or mind, but weary still, sickly still,
vexed still, loathing still, weeping, sighing, grieving, suspecting,
offended with the world, with every object, wishing themselves gone or
dead, or else carried away with some foolish phantasie or other." [133]

Burton says a great deal more to the same effect; the burden and lesson
of his book being embodied in the pregnant sentence with which it winds
up:--"Only take this for a corollary and conclusion, as thou tenderest
thine own welfare in this, and all other melancholy, thy good health of
body and mind, observe this short precept, Give not way to solitariness
and idleness. BE NOT SOLITARY--BE NOT IDLE." [134]

The indolent, however, are not wholly indolent. Though the body may
shirk labour, the brain is not idle. If it do not grow corn, it will
grow thistles, which will be found springing up all along the idle
man's course in life. The ghosts of indolence rise up in the dark, ever
staring the recreant in the face, and tormenting him:

"The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices,
Make instrument to scourge us."

True happiness is never found in torpor of the faculties, [135] but in
their action and useful employment. It is indolence that exhausts, not
action, in which there is life, health, and pleasure. The spirits may
be exhausted and wearied by employment, but they are utterly wasted by
idleness. Hense a wise physician was accustomed to regard occupation as
one of his most valuable remedial measures. "Nothing is so injurious,"
said Dr. Marshall Hall, "as unoccupied time." An archbishop of Mayence
used to say that "the human heart is like a millstone: if you put wheat
under it, it grinds the wheat into flour; if you put no wheat, it grinds
on, but then 'tis itself it wears away."

Indolence is usually full of excuses; and the sluggard, though unwil