On this, the initial day of a new-born century, I begin a work long held in contemplation, namely, the compilation of the Memoirs of a somewhat eventful life of a commonplace sort, covering the greater part of the century just ended; historically speaking, the most eventful of all the centuries. Probably, no epoch of like duration is more replete with books of a reminiscent character. To avoid the suspicion of presumption in venturing to launch a new book of a similar sort upon an already over-booked era, be it known from the start, that the self-imposed task is not essayed for futurity, finance, or ephemeral fame. Hence, neither maelstrom, nor iceberg, nor hidden shoal holds out terrors for my puny venture. True, it is intended for posterity, but posterity in a very restricted sense - my own and that of kindred, and of a few tried friends, who have urged the undertaking. If some of these may, perchance, find a kernel of profit out of the mass of chaff attendant, my idle half-hours in the postmeridian of life will not have been entirely misspent.