"To that business his heart and life were given. Of late years its active cares had naturally fallen into the hands of his younger associates; but he never relaxed his interest and devotion. 'While I was dressing,' said a much younger neighbor, 'I used to see Mayor Harper coming out of his house to go down town, and felt ashamed of myself. Early at the office, he opened and looked over the mail, and during the hours of the morning he passed from one room to another, his shrewd eye seeing every thing, and measuring men and work, chatting and jesting as he went. But out of those shrewd eyes looked a kind and gentle heart. He knew by name the men and women and children employed in the various parts of the great buildings, interested himself in their family stories, and often won a confidence that was never betrayed. His charities, which were ample, were thus intelligent and effective, and poor men as well as women bent to kiss his calm, unchanged face as he lay in his coffin." To the very last, James Harper retained his physical and mental vigor, and was looked up to by all the members of the house as its brightest ornament. To the last, he was one of the best known and most honored citizens of the great metropolis. His great wealth had not ruffled the serenity of his spirit, or caused the slightest variation in his conduct. To the last he was the Christian merchant, citizen, and father, offering to his children in himself a noble model by which to shape their lives. It had been his custom at family prayers to ask of God protection from sudden death, but for some time before his death he ceased to do so. His family noticed this, and one of them asked his reason for the omission. He answered quietly, "The Lord knows best." On the 25th of March, 1869, he was at his usual post in his office, and after business hours, as was his habit, set out with his daughter for a drive in the Central Park, As he neared the Park the pole of his carriage broke suddenly, and the horses, becoming frightened, dashed off furiously, dragging the carriage after them. Mr. Harper and his daughter were both thrown violently upon the pavement. The latter was but slightly injured, but Mr. Harper was taken up insensible, and conveyed to St. Luke's Hospital, which was close at hand. He never regained consciousness, but lingered until fifteen minutes after seven on the evening of the 27th, when he expired, surrounded by all his family, excepting his wife, who had long been an invalid. His death was regarded as a calamity to the city, and all classes of the community united to do honor to his memory. CHAPTER XXII. JAMES T. FIELDS.