closed for some time, and for it to be re-opened permission of the Secretary of State would have to be obtained.

But immediately following the sad intelligence of his death came the universally expressed desire that his remains should rest in Westminster Abbey-in that Poet's Corner which has been consecrated to the greatest, the wisest, the best of our countrymen. Dean Stanley at once communicated with the family, and in an interview with Mr. Charles Dickens, jun., begged that the national wish might be complied with. This was on the Friday. From that time until Monday evening the matter was under earnest consideration. Mr. Dickens's family took counsel with their father's dearest and oldest friends, and after due deliberation and consultation on the terms of the written instructions they held, asked the Dean of Westminster whether it would be possible to have certain conditions complied with if they consented that the interment should be at Westminster?

The answer was satisfactory, and arrangements were at once made for the funeral to take place in the most private manner possible, on the following day, Tuesday, the 14th June, 1870. A special train, bearing his remains, left Rochester early in the morning. At the Charing Cross station a waiting room had been set apart for the mourners, and on the árrival of the body, three plain mourning coaches, having none of the feathers or dismal frippery of the

undertaker, drew up to receive those personal friends and relatives who were to witness the burial of the great man. In coming to the Abbey, in the first coach were the late Mr. Dickens's children, Mr. Charles Dickens, jun., Mr. Harry Dickens, Miss Dickens, Mrs. Charles Collins. In the second coach were Mrs. Austin, his sister; Mrs. Charles Dickens, jun.; Miss Hogarth, his sister-in-law; Mr. John Forster. In the third coach, Mr. Frank Beard, his medical attendant; Mr. Charles Collins, his son-inlaw; Mr. Ouvry, his solicitor; Mr. Wilkie Collins; Mr. Edmund Dickens, his nephew.

Upon reaching the Abbey, the doors were immediately closed and the coaches dismissed. The ceremony was at once proceeded with. The Dean read our solemn burial service in a manner which showed how strong were his own emotions; and the great organ chimed subdued and low. The solemnity of the scene was indeed striking-the vast place empty, save for the little group of heart-stricken people by an open grave. A plain oak coffin, with a brass plate bearing the inscription—

CHARLES DICKENS,

BORN FEBRUARY 7TH, 1812,
DIED JUNE 9TH, 1870,

a coffin strewed with wreaths and flowers by the female mourners, and then-dust to dust and ashes to ashes!—such was the funeral of the great man who

has gone. There were no cloaks, no crapes, no bands or scarves-none of that mocking paraphernalia of the professional undertaker which Dickens so strongly objected to. When the subject of his funeral was being discussed, Mr. Ollier told us how strongly the great man had objected to take part in the ceremony which was performed over the grave of Leigh Hunt, in Kensal Green, during the past summer.

"In August last," writes Mr. Ollier, one of the honorary secretaries of the Leigh Hunt Memorial Fund, "I requested Mr. Dickens to inaugurate the monument in Kensal Green Cemetery, and to deliver a short address on the spot-a task which was afterwards excellently performed by Lord Houghton." To this the great novelist replied:-"My dear Mr. Ollier, I am very sensible of the feeling of the committee towards me, and I receive their invitation (conveyed through you) as a most acceptable mark of their consideration. But I have a very strong objection to speech-making beside graves. I do not expect or wish my feeling in this wise to guide other men; still, it is so serious with me, and the idea of ever being the subject of such a ceremony myself is so repugnant to my soul, that I must decline to officiate.-Faithfully yours always, CHARLES DICKENS. Edmund Ollier, Esq."

But the most energetic protest against the hideous fineries of the undertaker is to be found in an article entitled "Trading in Death," which appeared in Household Words, about November, 1852. It is

not generally known that this article-which produced much comment at the time-came from his pen.

On Sunday, the 19th June, Dean Stanley preached the funeral sermon in Westminster Abbey. An announcement to this effect had been made in the daily journals, and long before the hour appointed for the service a vast body of people had assembled at the doors. Immediately these were opened every available seat was taken, and many thousands of persons remained in distant parts of the building until the conclusion of the sermon. Amongst the many distinguished individuals present, the two who attracted most notice were the Poet Laureate and Mr. Thomas Carlyle. Mr. Dickens ever respected the great genius of Tennyson, and the poet has always expressed the highest admiration for the writings of Charles Dickens. It was fitting, therefore, that the surviving author should be present at this last ceremony over the great novelist's remains. The poet was accommodated with a seat inside the sacrarium; Mr. Carlyle sat in the body of the building. The family and relations of Mr. Dickens were in the gallery to the north of Poet's Corner, Dean Stanley was not well; indeed, he had for some days been complaining of severe indisposition, but, in spite of physical weakness, he determined to carry out the duty of the day. He took as his text the verses in the 15th and 16th chapters of St. Luke, which embody the parable of the rich, man and Lazarus :

"He spoke this parable. There was a certain rich man which was clothed in purple and fine linen and fared sumptuously every day. And there was a certain beggar named Lazarus, which was laid at his gate full of sores, and desiring to be fed with the crumbs that fell from the rich man's table. And moreover dogs came and licked his sores."

The eloquent and impressive sermon which followed was listened to with breathless attention, and many a cheek was moist with tears during its progress. There was in the whole scene something unusually impressive the enormous congregation covering every inch of ground in choir, and sacrarium, and transepts; the unbroken silence, or broken only by sobs; the careworn, delicate face and attenuated form of the preacher, struggling against overwhelming bodily weakness to reach the congregation that hung on his lips.

After commenting at some length upon the parable of the New Testament, and especially upon the one selected for their consideration that morning, the preacher thus applied the text :

"It is said to have been the distinguishing glory of a famous Spanish saint that she was the advocaté of the absent. That is precisely the advocacy of this divine parable, and of those modern parables which most represent its spirit-the advocacy, namely, of the poor, the absent, the neglected, of the weaker side, whom, not seeing, we are tempted to forget. It was the part of him whom we have lost to make the