hero thought he had seen her somewhere, and as some parts of the conversation induced the ladies to retire, he entered into discourse with the representative of Hamlet’s royal sire, and Ophelia and her new acquaintance having left the room, he enquired whence she came. The actor replied, that she came to Worcester several months before with an Irishman; they called themselves Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton, but he believed that was not the real name of the man; and farther, that he much doubted whether the woman had any title to his name, be it what it might. The man sometimes acted and sometimes preached: he was engaged to deliver a sermon the following day at Tetbury, where he had made several female converts. Madam often joined him in his spiritual exercises, for she had a good pipe, and was an excellent hand at an hymn; and being a handsome clever lass, was as graciously received at the love feasts and communion of saints by the men, as her holy partner was by the women. “Pray,” said our hero, “what is this Mr. Hamilton’s figure?” “A very tall stout fellow, with a mark on his cheek, which he said he got in defending himself against a dozen of robbers, for he draws a long bow.” Hamilton, as our readers will readily conceive, concluded this sacred dramatist to be no other than his worthy connection Mr. Roger O’Rourke, and resolved to repair to Tetbury in sufficient time to participate of the spiritual food which this noted cook had provided. Hamilton and his lovely companion had now been some time in bed, and had almost fallen asleep, when they heard a very great noise over their heads, and men speaking in a loud and furious tone. Striking a light our hero went to inquire into the cause, and entering the room whence the bawling issued, found two men in their shirts holding and cuffing each other. Having, with some difficulty, parted the combatants, who were now battered and bloody, he asked what was the ground of the affray, and discovered that it originated in a mistake. The room it seems belonged to the ghost; the young farmer had become the devotee of Ophelia, either for religion or some other reason, and it had been agreed, that they should resume their spiritual confabulations during the solemn stillness of the night. The farmer went to the wrong door, and approaching the supposed Ophelia, was surprized by a hoarse voice, demanding who he was. The farmer, apprehending that another person had anticipated his wishes, in an equal rage approached the bed, its possessor starting up, a combat had ensued. The landlord and various others having now come to the room, the farmer was prevailed on to withdraw, and so the scuffle ended. Our hero returned to Maria, whom he found joined by Charlotte, that had been alarmed by the uproar, but quietness being restored, she departed. Next morning, our hero being called at an early hour by his previous directions, arose. Enquiring after the farmer, he learned, that he had huddled on his cloaths