Men may walk much， and read much， and talk much， and pass the day without an unoccupied moment， and yet be substantially idle； because industry requires， at least the intention of usefulness. But gadding， gazing， lounging， mere pleasure-mongering， reading for the relief of ennui—these are as useless as sleeping， or dozing， or the stupidity of a surfeit.
There are many grades of idleness； and veins of it run through the most industrious life. We shall indulge in some descriptions of the various classes of idlers， and leave the reader to judge， if he be an indolent man， to which class he belongs.