has been said that where there is no sense of danger, there no danger need be feared; so the writer of this Autobiography ventures, despite any array of critics, to present the sketch of his life to a public whose indulgence he craves. He claims no merit for literary workmanship, but solely for truth and candour, and in those respects his book cannot be excelled. As understood by the writer of this preface, the aim of the work has been twofold, namely, to leave to a large circle of cherished friends, acquaintances, and relatives the exact memorials of a life marked by more than an.
