Can you imagine someone so lost in luxury that they need another person to tell them whether they're sitting or standing? This man is certainly not at leisure. You need a different word for him: he's sick, or rather dead. Only someone who feels truly at leisure is actually at leisure. But this creature is barely alive if he needs someone else to tell him what position his body is in. How can such a man possibly manage any time at all?
To think that there should be any one who had so far lost his senses through luxury as to take some one else's opinion as to whether he was sitting or not? This man certainly is not at leisure: you must bestow a different title on him: he is sick, or rather dead: he only is at leisure who feels that he is at leisure: but this creature is only half alive, if he wants some one to tell him what position his body is in. How can such a man be able to dispose of any time?