“The noble heart that harbors virtuous thought,
And is with child of glorious, great intent,
Can never rest until it forth have brought
Th’ eternal brood of glory excellent.”
In my opinion the want of occupation is no less the plague of society than of solitude. Nothing is so apt to narrow the mind; nothing produces more trifling, silly stories, mischief-making, lies, than being eternally shut up in a room with one another, reduced as the only alternative to be constantly twaddling. When everybody is occupied, we only speak when we have something to say; but when we are doing nothing, we are compelled to be always talking, and of all torments, that is the most annoying and the most dangerous.—Rousseau.