But a striking indication of the man's surprising sloth is still apparent in what he omits to do; he has learnt Chinese, the most difficult of languages, and he practises acts of hospitality, because he believes himself enjoined to do so by the Chinese inscription, but he cannot tell the hour of the day by the clock within his house; he can get on, he thinks, very well without being able to do so; therefore, from this one omission, it is easy to come to a conclusion as to what a sluggard's part the man would have played in life, but for the dispensation of Providence; nothing but extreme agony could have induced such a man to do anything useful.

He still continues, with all he has acquired, with all his usefulness, and with all his innocence of character, without any proper sense of religion, though he has attained a rather advanced age.
If it be observed that this want of religion is a great defect in the story, the author begs leave to observe that he cannot help it.

Lavengro relates the lives of people so far as they were placed before him, but no farther.

It was certainly a great defect in so good a man to be without religion; it was likewise a great defect in so learned a man not to be able to tell what was o'clock.

It is probable that God, in his loving kindness, will not permit that man to go out of the world without religion; who knows but some powerful minister of the Church, full of zeal for the glory of God, will illume that man's dark mind; perhaps some clergyman will come to the parish who will visit him and teach him his duty to his God.