those honest arts of pleasing, which make society agreeable. Henry
endeavoured to convince him, that it was possible for a person to wish to
please, nay, even to succeed in that wish, without being insincere. Their
argument and their walk continued, till Henry, who, though very active,
was not quite so robust as his friend, was completely tired, especially
as he perceived that Forester's opinions remained unshaken.

"How effeminate you _gentlemen_ are!" cried Forester: "see what it is to
be brought up in the lap of luxury. Why, I am not at all tired; I could
walk a dozen miles further, without being in the least fatigued!"

Henry thought it a very good thing to be able to walk a number of miles
without being fatigued, but he did not consider it as the highest
perfection of human nature. In his friend's present mood, nothing less
could content him, and Forester went on to demonstrate to the weary
Henry, that all fortitude, all courage, and all the manly virtues, were
inseparably connected with _pedestrian indefatigability_. Henry, with
good-natured presence of mind, which perhaps his friend would have called
_mean address_, diverted our hero's rising indignation by proposing that
they should both go and look at the large brewery which was in their way
home, and with which Forester would, he thought, be entertained.

The brewery fortunately turned the course of Forester's thoughts, and,
instead of quarrelling with his friend for being tired, he condescended
to postpone all further debate. Forester had, from his childhood, a habit
of twirling a key, whenever he was thinking intently: the key had been
produced, and had been twirling upon its accustomed thumb during the
argument upon address; and it was still in Forester's hand when they went
into the brewery. As he looked and listened, the key was essential to his
power of attending; at length, as he stopped to view a large brewing vat,