The Sun.
London, England, 1870-06-14 00:00:00

FUNERAL OF CHARLES DICKENS.

•Westminster Abbey has received all that was mortal or
Charles Dickens. The desire of our great humourist and
the wishes of the nation have not been irreconcilable, and
the venerable Abbey now adds to its monuments
of worth and greatness the remains of one of the
greatest writers the world has seen, and the most
facile creator that, with one exception, England
has yet produced. He who but a few days since made
the heart beat with kindly sympathy, and opened the
gates of genial love among thousands of English men
and women has taken his place in Poet's Corner
by the side of revered names, and, heroic achievements.
It is well that for once the unbending stiffness of Eng-
lish authority has yielded to the expressed wish
of a nation, and that the people have the oppor-
tunity of visiting the resting-place of their friend.
That much of this is due to Mr. Stanley, the gifted. Dean
of Westminster, we need not say.
The preparations for the funeral had been conducted
with such quietness that few, besides Mr. Dickens's
family and those immediately connected with the Abbey,
knew of the interment. Everything was done with sim-
plicity and privacy, and although the name of our Gothic
minster had been prominently before the public since tho
news of Mr. Dickens's death, it was only yesterday, we
are informed, that the consent of the family was obtained.

After the visitors had left the sacred building last even-
ing, the spot having been selected in Poets' Corner, the
grave was dug. No one was present but those actually
engaged in the work, and by this means the public were
kept in complete ignorance of what was about to take
place.

A few minutes past nine o'clock this morning a hearse
and two mourning coaches left the Charing-cross Railway
Station and proceeded in the direction of the Abbey. As
the unattractive cortege passed along Whitehall no
one imagined that they were the remains of
Charles Dickens, which were thus being conveyed
to their final resting-place. The simple procession
wended its way to the Abbey, entering the Dean's-
yard and passing into the Cloisters, which were reached
exactly at half-past nine o'clock. Eight men bore the
coffin from the hearse to the grave. The members of the
family, Mr. Forster, the executor, the medical attendant,
being altogether fourteen in number, formed the procession.
The coffin was met at the entrance by the Dean, who
read the whole of the service with the exception
of the lessons, which were read by the senior canon in
residence. The clergy who who assisted the Dean in
the service were the Ven. Archdeacon Jennings, the Rev.
Canon Nepean, and the three minor canons in residence.
As the procession entered the church the organ pealed
forth its solemn strains, but this was the only kind of
music allowed during the ceremony. When the coffin was
lowered into the grave the solemn notes of the organ again
arose, and there was another solemn peal when all was
concluded at the grave.
The coffin was strewn with flowers as it was being let
down into the grave. It bore the following simple inscrip-
tion :

CHARLES DICKENS,
BORN 7TH FEBRUARY,
1812.
DIED 9TH JUNE,
1870.

The spot chosen for the grave was exceedingly appro-
priate. It lies at the foot of Addison's statue. At the
head of the coffin the ashes of Handel are interred, whilst
the remains of Sheridan repose at the foot, and Cumber-
land, the dramatist, lies buried on the right hand. Imme-
diately above the grave, and overlooking it, is the bust of
Thackeray.
After morning service in the Abbey, when the fact that
the funeral had taken place, became known, numbers of
persons assembled at the grave, and fresh visitors con-
tinually arrived.

IN MEMORIAII.—A delicate yet touching tribute to
the memory of the late Charles Dickens has just been
prepared for the public by Messrs. Partridge and Cooper,
the wholesale stationers of Fleet-street. They have, in
space usually occupied by a monogram on the note-paper,
placed a simple yet most impressive design to the memory
of " Charles Dickens, our Mutual Friend," at once so
pretty and affecting that the complimentary mourning
note-paper will certainly supersede that hitherto generally
used by the public to show respect for the memory of a
loved and departed friend.

"ALL THE YEAR ROUND."—The following fly-leaf
accompanies the current number published this day of
Charles Dicken's All the Year Round —Personal—lt was
my father's wish, expressed in writing only a week before
his death, that I, his eldest son, and latterly his assistant
editor, should succeed him in the management of the
journal so long associated with his name. In accordance
with this clearly-expressed desire, and strong in the
hope inspired by so encouraging a mark of
his confidence, I addressed myself to the fulfil-
ment of the task which he appointed me to discharge.
It is intended that the management of All the Year Round
in the future, shall be based on precisely the same prin
ciples as those on which it has, up to this time, been con-
ducted. The same authors who have contributed to its
columns in time past, will contribute to them still.
The same spirit which has in the past pervaded
its pages will, so far as conscientious endeavour may
render it possible, pervade them still. The same earnest
desire to advocate what is right and true, and to oppose
what is false and unworthy, which was the guiding prin-
ciple of my father's career, and which has always charac-
terised his management of All the Year Bound willl, I
most earnestly hope, continue to be apparent in
its every word. So much, then, being the
same, it may not be presumptuous in me to hope
that the same readers with whom this journal, and that
which preceded it, found favour for so many years, may
still care to see the familiar title page on their tables as
of old. With this brief explanation of the course I pro-
pose to adopt, and omitting all reference what-
ever to my own personal feelings in connec-
tion with the great sorrow which has rendered
this statement necessary, I leave the future journal
to speak for itself. "It is better that every kind of work,
honestly undertaken and discharged, should speak for
itself than be spoken for." These are the words with
which my father inaugurated the new series of All the
Year Bound. I cannot surely do better than repeat them
in this pIace.—CHARLES DICKENS, Jun.