The Express.
London, England, 1863-12-30 00:00:00

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_TO_ OpaItEBPCINDINTa.

olvorlisowoole uSaMd "TKOWOrsss' London Sondes
Mat Ur Oft" 10, bouverliortrook by Two
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COVANT-OA.EDE!f.

TIMI WIMPS, 76sidAOt BOHEMIAN GIRL
—And HARLEQUIN IT, GEORGE AND TOE DRAGON.
Maws F. It. Pam Payee, F. Pants, the Brotben
Masotti, Mlle. Better.—Cossesos at 7.

.11ATIU1;IT,

Tau swarm. OC R AYiiiCAN 06:73LN. Nam nothent,
Buckstene, Chippendale, Gordon, ltogern Co., and taut;
Xemdemes 4nliel and Bnondem—And LINO ARTHUR.
Mr. Compton , Mesdames L Leaky, Team Lindley, L Roar.

PRINCISCS„

Tars EVENING, THE 1117IIIii/11015N.—Aed HARLEQUIN
LITTLE TOY TUCKS& Yenta Boylan, Cacheart, A. and C.
Lectern% Bulbs and Boa, Milano. Naylor, and Canino
Mesdames Barnett. Adana, and Howard

LYCErX.

THIS THIC LbriiCITILD. Mr. Widdlamb and
Mims P. ledireq.—BlLL DK aIONIO. a Lou Mary. Mews.
Mates, &angina, der►. Charles. and Jordon ; Wawa
Tarry.L•varan sod laavaelliy, and Has. Lea.

.1121TILIMIA.

Tra MOOR* Ow New ilLtto HICKORY, HICKORY,
DOCK Mrs. & Lams and Mt-rate Pastes ndsta—The Marvels
of ler& - THR GARAY outer RV/WE \Akar and Bertrand.
—The Nary lanntdo...anet THE GORILLA HUNT.

Weil WATS& AT LONDON RILLEIGIL
TIP Orr —llinollm. ea. ..AlAwmar. 6b..201‘
Tanana, Montag. 6i .Affaseaa. sh. MA

LONDON, WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 30.

To-nax, at noon, all that mortality can claim of
one whose sudden departure from amongst us is
more than a national bereavement—for genius is
an heir-loom to the world—was conveyed to
the last resting-place, amidst the not unmanly
tears of a host of friends and a multitude of unin-
vited mourners. All England was present in
heart and spirit at Kensal-green at noon to-day ;
for the "dear brother departed," whose large
and loving heart nothing but the hand of
Death could chill, was one to whom the
long last absence makes the heart of a whole
people yearn with a fondness that defies the grave.
Familiarity sometimes obscures from us the worth
of living objects, but death removes the weeds of
trivial circumstance from the base of the human
figure, and consecrates the noblest work of GOD.
Never, we believe, has the death of • public man
been more acutely felt, as a personal grief, by thou-
sands of strangers far and wide, than the death of
that true English gentleman whom this morning
we call for the last time, Mr. THACICIRAT. There
are no titles of gentility among the Immortals.
If Christmas merrymaking has not been officially
suspended, or the public gaietyformallyeclipsed, not
the lees real or heartfelt has been the general sorrow.
Many who never set eyes on their famous and
lamented countryman have drawn their breath
in pain, as if the shadow end the silence had fallen
on their own household. In this age of ours itis
still acknowledged to be "no common lot that
" takes away a noble mind." The change from a
royal to • waxen figure, from titled or monied
nothingness to the nothingness of common dust,
may be loudly wept for by a world of worshippers
of false gods. But when one of those rare
beings departs, of whom there may come
two or three ia a century, who fill the world with
the light and warnitA of their geniusi whose divine
gifts are spent in the service of thew felfow-crew
tures, and who dignify by their lives the most self-
denying and generous of calling's, it is then
that the lamenting voice of a whole nation should
be not loud but deep. So private and personal to
us all is such a calamity as this, that after
weeks and months it opens and bleeds afresh, like
a bodily wound ; into festive companies the re-
membrance of the one familiar presence pierces
like an icy wind.

Idle as it is to repeat the commonplace of all
human experience, and to meditate the oft-repeated
bitter thooghtthatws never know the worth of what
we have till we have lost it, it is impossible not to
own that men of letters will only now begin to value
at its true worth the life of mach a leader as Mr.
TILACIEHAY. Only these who had the happiness
to know him intimately—and to know him was to
love him—can tell the world all that there
was of greatness and of gocdnem in that
large, sweet, happy nature. In his por-
traits we may discern the scornful intellect or the
tenderness of affection ; but no one knew the man
as he lived, who knew not that childiah simplicity
and shyness, that profound sensibility, that trans-
parent truthfulness, that gentleness, that charity.
Delightful companion, steadfast friend, faithful com-
rade, his home and his heart were open to how
many beaten and forlorn fellow-workers of his
own obscurer days! Of course, he was often absurdly
misinterpreted by the many who never met him,
and only judged him by this or that character in
his books. Enough to say now that the best men
in his books were most like himself.
And so to-day we bid farewell on earth to this
good English gentleman, this great English man
of letters, this humourist and moralist, and we
lay his mortal part in one of those vast and vulgar
cemeteries escaped from the straps and fever of the
streets of which the everlasting hum is heard even
at their gates us the murmur of adistantsea. Assu-
redly it matters little where the good and the great