s well as the physical forces, and provide a larger fund
for distribution among the various classes which necessarily make up the
total of society. If our lives shall be such that we shall receive the
glad welcome of 'Well done, good and faithful servant,' we shall then
know that we have not lived in vain."

For nine years after this utterance he continued the peaceful and happy
life which it describes. When the end came, it was quiet and painless.
Surrounded by his children and grandchildren, and whispering with almost
his last breath the desire for an increase of his bequest to that other
well-beloved child, the Cooper Union, he "fell on sleep," April 4, 1883.

On the day of his funeral New York city presented an almost unexampled
spectacle. All Soul's Unitarian Church, in which his body was
deposited, early in the morning was thronged with a mighty multitude,
passing in procession to look upon the beloved face. Eighteen young men
from the Cooper Union surrounded it, as a guard of honor. A body of 3500
students of that institution, of both sexes, marched by, casting flowers
upon the coffin, and followed by delegations from all the municipal and
charitable organizations of the city, and by uncounted multitudes, whose
relation to the beloved philanthropist was not official or
representative, but simply personal.

The busiest streets of New York, through which the funeral procession
passed on its way to Greenwood Cemetery, beyond the East River, were
closed to business and hung in black. The flags on all public buildings,
and on the ships in the harbor, were at half-mast. The bells of all
churches were tolled. The whole city mourned, as it had not done since,
eighty years before, the funeral procession of George Washington moved
through its streets.

If we seek, without affectionate prejudice, to discover the cause of
this universal grief, affection, and admiration, we shall find, I think,
that it lies chiefly in two circumstances; namely, the character of
Peter Cooper as a lover of his kind, and the opportunity afforded him by
his long life, not only to prove that character, but to become
personally known to many thousands of those whom he sought unselfishly
to serve. Few persons except military commanders have such an
opportunity. The philanthropists who labor in secret, no matter with
what noble motive, and do not come face to face with their
beneficiaries, may win the applause of posterity, but cannot expect to
r