TEXAS.
DEATH OF S. B. WHITE.
REV. J. W. ROBERTS, PARIS.
Our faithful missionary, S. B. White, died about three o’clock yesterday, of congestive chills and fever.
He closed a very successful school session here the first of July. He went out north of Paris, on Red River, to teach. The water and climate did not agree with him. He made out to teach one month and a few days by hard struggle, and came up Friday before last, looking like the very shadow of death, conducted Sunday-school on Sunday, and was here to preaching that night. Two o’clock Sunday night he started back to his school, notwithstanding he was warned not to return. He reached there through hard struggle, and was there from Tuesday to Friday, trying to get some conveyance to bring him home. On Friday, August 19, he heard of a wagon that was coming in, so he walked two miles from the place where he was boarding, to take passage, which walk was too exhausting for his already diseased frame. Thus he had to come in a rough wagon in all of Friday’s scorching sun, a distance of some twenty-one or twenty-two miles, with frequent fainting spells. He reached here Friday afternoon at 6 o’clock, where he had the best attention shown him both by his friends and physician. He was not confined to the bed until Monday night.
He had not the least fear of dying. He said: “Don’t fret for me; but I want you all to meet me in Heaven. I am going to that beautiful land of rest to live with Jesus. ‘There is a fountain filled with blood, drawn from Immanuel’s veins,’” etc. He described the kind of coffin he wished to be buried in. He was the most faithful Christian I ever saw. We have lost a noble Christian worker.