They ought to be an exceedingly happy people, for they have no extremes
of good or ill fortune; never marrying, but living in a state much like
that fabled by the poets as the primitive condition of mankind. In spite
of this, however, they are incessantly complaining; they know that we in
this world have bodies, and indeed they know everything else about us,
for they move among us whithersoever they will, and can read our
thoughts, as well as survey our actions at pleasure. One would think
that this should be enough for them; and most of them are indeed alive to
the desperate risk which they will run by indulging themselves in that
body with "sensible warm motion" which they so much desire; nevertheless,
there are some to whom the _ennui_ of a disembodied existence is so
intolerable that they will venture anything for a change; so they resolve
to quit. The conditions which they must accept are so uncertain, that
none but the most foolish of the unborn will consent to them; and it is
from these, and these only, that our own ranks are recruited.
When they have finally made up their minds to leave, they must go before
the magistrate of the nearest town, and sign an affidavit of their desire
to quit their then existence.
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