een an extraordinary
one." I may also refer to Mrs. Brown's reply.

"As a Christian minister," replied Mr. Brown, "and an enemy to
persecution in every sense, but especially to that which would punish
any man for the great principle which we ourselves claim--the rights of
conscience--I decline to drink the toast;" and he turned down his glass.

"And I," said Mr. Hastings, "as a Protestant and a Christian, refuse it
on the same principles;" and he also turned down his glass.

"But you forget, gentlemen," proceeded the squire, "that I addressed
myself principally to the ladies."

"But you know, sir," replied Mrs. Brown, with a smile, "that it is
quite unusual and out of character for ladies to drink toasts at all,
especially those which involve religious or political opinions. These, I
am sure, you know too well, Mr. Folliard, are matters with which ladies
have, and ought to have, nothing to do. I also, therefore, on behalf
of our sex, decline to drink the toast; and I trust that every lady who
respects herself will turn down her glass as I do."

Mrs. Hastings and Helen immediately followed her example, whilst at the
same time poor Helen's cheeks and neck were scarlet.

"You see, sir," said Mr. Brown, good-humoredly, "that the sex--at least
one-half of them--are against you."

"That's because they're Papists at heart," replied the squire, laughing.

Helen felt eased at seeing her father's good humor, for she now knew
that the proposal of the toast was but a jest, and did not aim at any
thing calculated to distress her feelings.

"But, in the meantime," proceeded the squire, "I am not without support.
Here is Lady Joram and Mrs. Smellpriest and Mrs. Oxley--and they are a
host in themselves--each of them willing and ready to support me."

"I don't see," said Lady Joram, "why a lady, any more than a gentleman,
should refuse to drink a proper toast as this is; Sir Jenkins has not
turned down his glass, and neither shall I. Come, then, Mr. Folliard,
please to fill mine; I shall drink it in a bumper."

"And I," said Mrs. Oxley, "always drinks my 'usband's principles. In
Lunnon, where true 'igh life is, ladies don't refuse to drink toasts. I
know that feyther, both before and after his removal to Lunnon, used
to make us all drink the ''Ard ware of Old Hingland'--by witch,"
she proceeded, correcting herself by a reproving glance from the
sheriff--"by witch he meant what he called the glorious sinews of the
countr