of this information, in an attractive form, within the
reach of those who cannot afford to purchase expensive books, is the
principal object of this Miscellany.

Truth is stranger than fiction, but fiction is a valuable assistant in
the development of truth. Both, therefore, shall be used in these
volumes. Care will be taken to insure, as far as is possible, that the
_facts_ stated shall be true, and that the _impressions_ given shall be
truthful.

As all classes, in every age, have proved that tales and stories, are
the most popular style of literature, each volume of the series (with,
perhaps, one or two exceptions) will contain a complete tale, the heroes
and actors in which, together with the combination of circumstances in
which they move, shall be more or less fictitious.

In writing these volumes, the author has earnestly endeavoured to keep
in view the glory of God and the good of man.

CHAPTER ONE.

DESCRIBES HOME-COMING, AND SHOWS THAT MATTERS WHISPERED IN THE
DRAWING-ROOM ARE SOMETIMES LOUDLY PROCLAIMED BELOW-STAIRS.

It was late on a winter evening when our hero, William Osten, arrived in
England, in company with his two friends and former messmates, Bunco and
Larry O'Hale.

When a youth returns to his native land, after a long absence which
commenced with his running away to sea, he may perhaps experience some
anxieties on nearing the old home; but our hero was not thus troubled,
because, his father having died during his absence, and his mother
having always been tender-hearted and forgiving, he felt sure of a warm
reception.

Our hero was so anxious to see his mother, that he resolved to travel by
the night-coach to his native town of B--, leaving his companions to
follow by the mail in the morning. Railways, although in use throughout
the country, had not at that time cut their way to the town of B--.
Travellers who undertook to visit that part of the land did so with
feelings somewhat akin to those of discoverers about to set out on a
distant voyage. They laid in a stock of provisions for the journey, and
provided great supply of wraps for all weathers. When Will Osten
reached the coach-office, he found that all the inside places were
taken.

"You'll have to go aloft, sir," said the coachman, a stout and somewhat
facetiously inclined individual, who, observing something of the sailor
in Will's costume and gait, suited his language to his supposed
character; "there's only one berth