"Only a child!"--and yet who of us, when the stomry night comes on and the wind howls around, and the raindrops dash against the window panes, fails to think of the little ones who have been gathered home and slumber in the city of the dead! And when, in the daily routine of life, some little memento of the lost loved one is picked up--it may be but a little cap, a shoe, a toy, the merest trifle--how the mother's heart wells up from its inmost depths and even the strong man feels a great ball rising in this throat that almost chokes the life out and will not go down. These "children" are something that are a part of our own ????, and even although we know what God has taken them to himself, we can not bear to part with them.

Yesterday a long funeral pocession wended its way to Mt. Mora Cemetery. It was only that of "a child"--a young boy born and reared in our midst, the cherished idol of his parents, and a favorite with all. Benny Ullman, son of Major Ben. Ullman and Jane Ullman, had, after a week's illness, passed away to the land of shadows, and hundreds of friends assembled at the family residence, on Fourth street, to testify their sympathy with the parents in their sad bereavement. Never in the history of our city have we seen the funeral of "only a child" so large attended.

The remains of the little boy were enclosed in a full class pinewood casket, from the establishment of Mr. George Haber[?]. It was ???? with Persian ????, beautifully quilted, with silver trimmings, and a solid silver plate on the top, on which was engraved the name, age, and date of deceased, and ornamented with a silver wreath and bonnet. On the top of the casket was a beautiful wreath placed there by the pupils of the Young Ladies' Institute and a cross of natural flowers elegantly worked. The remains were natural, save the waxen hue given by the hand of death.

All the rooms of the house as well as the yard were filled long before the hour appointed for the funeral. The services were commenced by Rev. Dr. Runcie, Rector of Christ Church, with the impressive burial service of the Episcopal Church, suggestive to all of the great even which must ultimately occur to every human being.

The funeral sermon was then delivered by Rev. Dr. Martin, Principal of the Young Ladies' Institute, who spoke with more than ordinary feeling. Little Benny had been his pupil and he had watched over the child with the deepest interest. He alluded first to the fact that, while grieving friends stood around, mourning for the little form enclosed in the casket, it was "well with Benny," who had been taken from the cares and trials of life to eternal rest in the arms of the saviour. He then spoke of the lesson it should furnish to us all. A bright boy, in the vigor of health and full of promise, had been striken down in a few days time and passed beyond the world. If it was thus with children, should not