from the argument in the last paragraph, it can be concluded that the sluggards are

&nbsp It is of no more use to give advice to the idle than top pour water into a sieve, but it strike me that lazy people ought to have a large looking glass hung up where they are bound to see themselves in it. For sure, if their eyes are at all like mine, they will never bear to look at themselves long or often. The ugliest sight in the world is one of those thorough-bred loafers, who would hardly hold up his basin if it were to rain with porridge: and for certain, would never hold up a bigger pot than he wanted to fill for himself.
Perhaps, if the shower should turn to beer, he might wake himself up a bit; but he will make up for it afterwards, since as a slothful man, he folds his hands in sleep and hates to get up even for his meals. Men like him ought to be treated with like the drone which the bees drive out of their hives for inactivity overdependence.
Every man ought to have patience and pity for poverty; but for laziness, a long whip might be better. This would be a healthy treatment for all sluggards, but there is no chance of some of them getting their full dose of this medicine, for they were born with silver spoons in their mouths, and like spoons will scarce stir their own tea unless somebody lends them a hand. They are like the proverbial dogs that leaned his head against the wall to bark and, like lazy sheep, it is too much trouble for them to carry their own wool. If they could see themselves, it might by chance do them a world of good; but perhaps it would be too much trouble for them to open their eyes even if the glass were hung for them.
If I seem to hit hard at the sluggards, it is because I know they can bear it, for if they were seed on the threshing floor, you will thresh many days to get them out of the straw, for laziness is in their bones, and will show itself in their idle flesh, no matter what you do with them.
Adapted from Spurgeon, C.H.: John Ploughman’s Talk