e between Smellpriest and Whitecraft was
this--Smellpriest was not a magistrate, as Whitecraft was, and in his
priest-hunting expeditions only acted upon warrants issued by some
bigoted and persecuting magistrate or other who lived in the district.
But as his propensity to hunt those unfortunate persons was known, the
execution of the warrants was almost in every instance entrusted to his
hands. It was not so with Sir Robert, who, being himself a magistrate,
might be said to have been in the position at once of judge and
executioner. At all events, the race of blood was pretty equal between
them, so far as the clergy was concerned; but in general enmity to
the Catholic community at large, Whitecraft was far more cruel and
comprehensive in his vengeance. It is indeed an observation founded upon
truth and experience, that in all creeds, in proportion to his ignorance
and bigotry, so is the violence of the persecutor. Whitecraft, the
self-constituted champion of Protestantism, had about as much religion
as Satan himself--or indeed less, for we are told that he believes
and trembles, while Whitecraft, on the contrary, neither believed nor
trembled. But if he did not fear God, he certainly feared man, and
on the night in question went home with as craven a heart--thanks
to Lanigan--as ever beat in a coward's bosom. Smellpriest, however,
differed from Whitecraft in many points; he was brave, though cruel, and
addicted to deep potations. Whitecraft, it is true, drank more deeply
still than he did; but, by some idiosyncrasy of stomach or constitution,
it had no more effect upon him than it had upon the cask from which it
had been drawn, unless, indeed, to reduce him to greater sobriety and
sharpen his prejudices.

Be this as it may, the Rev. Samson Strong made his appearance in
Smellpriest's house with a warrant, or something in the shape of one,
which he placed in the gallant captain's hands, who was drunk.

"What's this, oh, Samson the Strong? said Smellpriest, laughing and
hiccuping both at the same time.

"It's a hunt, my dear friend. One of those priests of Baal has united
in unholy bands a Protestant subject with a subject of the harlot of
abominations."

"Samson, my buck," said Smellpriest, "I hope this Popish priest of yours
will not turn out to be a wild-goose. You know you have sent me upon
many a wild-goose chase before; in--in--in fact, you nev--never sent me
upon any other. You're a blockhead, oh, divine Samson