The similarity of the emotions as produced in the mourners in these two instances is remarkably evidenced by the singular similarity of thought which they experienced, and the surprising coincidence of language used by them to give it expression. In the same journal, of the same date, I find the following (surname suppressed, as before): Wagner.--On the 10th inst., Ferguson G., the son of William L. and Martha Theresa Wagner, aged 4 weeks and 1 day. That merry shout no more I hear, No laughing child I see, No little arms are round my neck, No feet upon my knee; No kisses drop upon my cheek, These lips are sealed to me. Dear Lord, how could I give Ferguson up To any but to Thee? It is strange what power the reiteration of an essentially poetical thought has upon one's feelings. When we take up the _Ledger _and read the poetry about little Clara, we feel an unaccountable depression of the spirits. When we drift further down the column and read the poetry about little Johnnie, the depression and spirits acquires an added emphasis, and we experience tangible suffering. When we saunter along down the column further still and read the poetry about little Ferguson, the word torture but vaguely suggests the anguish that rends us. In the _Ledger _(same copy referred to above) I find the following (I alter surname, as usual): Welch.--On the 5th inst., Mary C. Welch, wife of William B. Welch, and daughter of Catharine and George W. Markland, in the 29th year of her age. A mother dear, a mother kind, Has gone and left us all behind. Cease to weep, for tears are vain, Mother dear is out of pain. Farewell, husband, children dear, Serve thy God with filial fear, And meet me in the land above, Where all is peace, and joy, and love. What could be sweeter than that? No collection of salient facts (without reduction to tabular form) could be more succinctly stated than is done in the first stanza by the surviving relatives, and no more concise and comprehensive program of farewells, post-mortuary general orders, etc., could be framed in any form than is done in verse by deceased in the last stanza. These things insensibly make us wiser and tenderer, and better. Another extract: Ball.--On the morning of the 15th inst., Mary E., daughter of John and Sarah F. Ball. 'Tis sweet to rest in lively hope That when my change shall come Angels will hover round my bed, To waft my spirit home. The following is apparently the customary form for heads of families: Burns.--On the 20th inst., Michael Burns, aged 40 years. Dearest father, thou hast left us, Here thy loss we deeply feel; But 'tis God that has bereft us, He can all our sorrows heal. Funeral at 2 o'clock sharp. There is something very simple and pleasant about the following, which, in Philadelphia, seems to be the usual form for consumptives of long standing. (It deplores four distinct cases in the single copy of the _Ledger _which lies on the Memoranda editorial table):