The Sun.
London, England, 1870-06-16 00:00:00

LONDON, 7RURSDAY, JUNE 16, 1870.

It is a consolation, and in that sense a happiness
to think that the remains of CHARLES DICKENS have
been buried in Westminster Abbey, and not as ori-
ginally intended in Rochester Cathedral. The
national wish is thereby satisfied. To the honoured
dust of the most beloved of English authors,
the most suitable place of sepulture has been ac-
corded. There it will repose until the " crack of
doom" in fitting company. At the head, HANDEL,
at the foot, SHERIDAN, to the right, CUMBERLAND,
to the left, MAcAuLAY—overlooked here by the
statue of ADDISON, here by the bust of THACKERAY

—hard by the graves of SAMUEL JOHNSON, and of
DAVID GARRICK, in the midst of memorable inscrip-
tions, among various others, to GOLDSMITH, and
GRAY, and MILTON, and SHAKSPERE. The sim-
plicity and privacy of the burial were in keeping

with the whole character of the career of the illus-
trious dead. Throughout his lifetime he never
affected to be anything else than what it was his
pride and happiness to be, the author, the artist in
words, the man of letters. He aspired to no social
distinction. Often tempted to become a candidate
to a seat in Parliament, he invariably declined to
forsake his desk and his books for the Legislature.
Himself one of the most brilliant and charming
speakers of his time, he might readily have
attained oratorical distinction, had he so pleased,
within the walls of the House of Commons.
The political contentions of party warfare, however,
were alien to his nature and to his tastes. Through
his writings, through his life-like creations, through
his enthralling narratives, he influenced at once
most subtly and most powerfully the thoughts and
opinions of his generation. If, as Mr. DISRAELI has
said in his " Life of Lord GEORGE BENTINCKI" Sir
ROBERT PEEL, the great Sir ROBERT, could play
upon the House of Commons like an old fiddle,
CHARLES DICKENS could play upon the heart-
strings of his contemporaries like a PAGANINI.
He had an equal mastery over our tears
and our laughter exquisite tears and innocent
laughter. His was always a reverent genius. The
most squalid poverty, as in TOM-ALL-ALONE'S—the
profoundest ignorance, as in poor benighted Jo, the
crossing-sweeper— childhood as in Little PAUL--
girlhood as in Little NELL—boyhood as in OLIVER
TwisT—idiotcy as in BARNABY RUDGE—the humblest
surroundings as in those of Mrs. NUBBLES, the
Washerwoman, or of cinderous TOODLES, the
Stoker, or of JOE GARGERY, the Blacksmith, or of
honest PEGGOTTY, the Yarmouth Fisherman—the
lowliest, the least instructed, mere half-witted crea-
tures like Mr. DICK and poor MAGGY—aII were con-
secrated .by the humane and generous genius
lighting up . and kindling into reality his airy
imaginings. So true to life are the creatures of his
fancy that they are, for one and all of us, like our
own flesh and blood contemporaries. He himself,
their creator, has breathed his last, and been buried
in Poet's Corner, but they argil still living As, for
that matter, in a nobler sense, the great
author himself is, in the empyrean of our
national literature, what though, as he him-
self said, with a mournful cadence in the utter-
ance of those pathetic words, still vibrating in our

remembrance as though they had been but just now
articulated, what though from these garish lights he
-has vanished now for evermore !

THE first night of the debate in the House of Lords
on the second reading of the Land Bill proved a
great triumph for that energetic peer, Count Smoin-
He had it all his own way. The Upper
House is capable of great debating achievements,
but for the performance of noble deeds an incentive
is generally required, and this is lacking in
the case of the Irish Land Bill. Their
lordships are deeply interested in questions
affecting " the rights of property ;" but here the
Fates are against them ; they acknowledge that a
mcasure must be passed, and they resign themselves
to their present destiny, lest, in trying to avert it, a
worse thing befall them. No great oratorical displays '
can be expected of a bill which both parties agree in
passing, subject only to disputes on issues of de-
tail. When they come to the famous third clause we,
may reasonably expect a fine explosion of patrician'
fervour, but in wandering over the whole measure
without an, object and without a guide, the great
Conservative• Opposition does not cut a very credit-
able figure. The debate was dull, and for the most
part uninstructive.
This discussion Will, however, render one great
service. It will teach the nation what a fine class of
men landlords are, andhow irredeemably bad are the
restof mankind, especially tenants. Once let a man
own landed property, and his moral qualities are
permanently set right; once let him rent landed
property, and he is lost. Such at least is the moral
enforced by the Duke of RICHMOND. He does not
deny that the Irish cultivator is in the majority of
cases entirely at the mercy of his landlord.
But he assures us that no harm comes of
it. Everything is going on well in Ire-
land. Landlords as a class treat their tenants
properly, and do not either capriciously evict them
or appropriate their improvements. There may he
a few exceptions, yet even these are not landlords