----The cavalcade moved slowly on--The old mourner raised his eyes to heaven, as if to implore the aid of Omnipotence in resigning him to the fatal stroke, and anon the tear of grief would steal down his furrowed cheek. How must it rend the heart of a fond, a doting father, who had promised to himself many days of uninterrupted happiness, in an amiable child, to see him torn from his embrace, ere he yet had arrived at manhood! Is it not afflicting? Ye, who have felt the smart, it is you that best can reply: It is you alone can tell what pleasure, and what pain a parent feels. Full sixteen suns had run their annual course since SAMUEL saw the light. And on his birth-day morn, sol darted forth his beams in rich effulgence; yet ere the noon-tide came, the only prop of age had sunk to an eternal rest. The sparkling eye, the crimsoned cheek had lost their wonted charms, and nothing in their stead remained, save a sad semblance of mortality. Death, that insatiate monster, had stretched forth his iron fangs, and grasped his spotless soul; and in one moment brought to nought each fancied joy. Now here is room for one who has ever wept at the wayward lot of mortals, to drop the briny tear, and mourn the partial decree of fate, that summoned hence this _opening rose_. Alas! that it could not be revoked! The gate was already open, and the clergyman led the way across several graves that had long been inhabited. Doubtless, their bodies have, ere this, left nothing save a handful of ashes. Once they were as gay as thou art, O reader! Some, perhaps, launched into the vortex of pleasure, while others found happiness at home, in company with their playful infants.---What are they now? The ceremony was begun: the corpse was deposited in its narrow cell. Tears flowed more freely from the eyes of the mourners, and when the first spadeful of earth had fallen heavy on the lid, they arose to sobs. The spectators dropped theirs in unison. It resembled the funeral of Jacob. The labourers had ceased:---the spades had fallen from their hands, and they looked round with astonishment. Perhaps they had never witnessed such a scene; and well might they gaze on the one before them. At length the fountains of nature were drained, they could no longer weep. L. B. NEW-YORK _August 5, 1796_. * * * * * OBSERVATION. The coldest hearts, nay the hardest, cannot forbear admiring virtue; but, while they stop at this involuntary and barren homage, the feeling mind burns with emulation. * * * * * * * * * _For the +New-York Weekly Magazine+._ * * * STUDY OF NATURE.