General Grant is to be buried to-day near New York,
on a cliff overlooking the Hudson. The public funeral, which began with a private service at Mount M`Gregor, the General's cottage, and proceeded to Saratoga and thence to Albany, where the General lay in state at the Capitol, and thence to New York, has been watched with every sign of public emotion by immense crowds; and nothing, perhaps, has given the people of the United States a more cordial fellow-feeling with England than the Dean of Westminster's service in Westminster Abbey on Tuesday, held simultaneously with the private funeral service at Mount M'Gregor. Archdeacon Farrar preached the sermon, which was curiously penetrated by a vein of republican sentiment which has excited much enthusiasm on the other side of the Atlantic. He remarked how proud Rome had been of summoning her dictators from the plough, and that the United States were equally proud of having Presidents who in their youth had split rails, or had swept diligently the Hiram Institute, or loaded carts with logs almost too heavy for a boy's strength. Dr. Farrar recalled the proud answer of a President to one who asked what his arms would be, namely, "A pair of shirt-sleeves ;" and he reminded his audience of the noble cause for which the farmers of Lexington fired the shot "which was heard round the world,"—heard round the world because virtually it dethroned the Queen's grandfather from his rule over a great part of the New World. In fact, it would have been very difficult to preach a sermon more thoroughly Republican in feeling than Archdeacon Farrar's, its burden being the essential unity of the English and American peoples.