words of one who was present, "It was just the sort of thing to please Peter Cooper to the bottom of his soul." The great hall was dedicated from the beginning to free speech. Peter Cooper may have overestimated the value of mere talk. As I have already told, it was his first notion that conversation and discussion were the chief things required in education. He came to see that study, instruction, and training were equally essential, but he never surrendered his faith in free speech; and the great hall was at the service of all sects, parties, and classes, religious, philosophical, political, scientific, literary, or philanthropic. It has been the scene of many memorable meetings and addresses. But nothing in its history has been more useful and noteworthy than the series of free popular lectures which were given, as part of the operations of the Cooper Union, within its walls. These lectures began in 1868, and continued until they were adopted by the city as part of the general scheme of free lectures which has been so successful during the last few years. In awarding due praise to the promoters and managers of this plan, it should not be forgotten that the Cooper Union inaugurated it, and maintained it for many years, during which the free Saturday night popular lectures in its great hall were the only ones of their kind. They covered many sciences and arts, chronicles of travel and themes of history and literature. The most eminent authors, teachers, investigators, travelers, and orators of the generation were comprised in the list of lecturers; and many of them performed this service without other reward than the consciousness of contributing to a noble charity, and the evident gratitude of the vast and eagerly attentive audience. Mr. Cooper loved to attend these Saturday evening lectures, and an arm-chair was always ready for him on the platform. Many a speaker on that platform has been surprised by an untimely outburst of applause and has turned to discover the cause in the entrance of the beloved founder. Often the subject of the evening was beyond his experience or knowledge, but that made no difference in his respectful attention, or in the benign satisfaction with which he contemplated the attentive audience, and realized that they were receiving benefit. I have often felt that the scene exhibited almost every Saturday night for many years during the latest period of his life could be equaled only by the spectacle presented at Ephesus, where the aged St. John the Divine fronted the congregation of loving believers, always with his one last message, "Little children, love one another."