Cheraw gazette. [volume] (Cheraw, S.C.) 1835-1838, 1836-08-09
From the Christiun Witness.
SCENES FROM REAL LIFE.
THE SUNDAY SCHOLAR.

wanting, and in their place weN pale ana
sallow faces and languid expressions.
There was want of spirit and ANIMATION
throughout-in the teachers and scholars
-in the tones of each voice and the move
ments of each body. But still it was q
blessed place-for it is always blessed to
see troop of young immorals with the
two paths yet before them, collected to
learn the way that lcadeth unto lilc.
During the short period that Twas allowed
toteach in that school, lnany incidents occur
red--tor in a southern climate all IS change
nothing seems to last beyond Il season
death fingers in the first warm breath
ings of spring, and the pesilcnt HaporS OF
disease are inhaled with the fragrance and
balm of summer evening.
In my own little band, much tranSplred
to interest and move my feelings, besides
the gradual advancement of each pupil IN
the knowledge that makcth wise TO saliva
ton.
There was one sweet bluc.cycd boy,
whose quiet manner and meek attentive
look interested me from the first. He
seemed to drink in instruction like water,
and to thirst for more when the exercises
were over. Whenever he heard the story
ofthe Saviour's death and suticrings, or of
his love for little children, lis earnest eye
would be fixed in brcathless attention, till it
was dimmed with tears. We used to call him
our Rale minister, and tondly looked for
ward to the time when he should preach the
"msearchable riches Of Christ" But God
had nobler work for his son. He took
him in the morning, and spared him the
burden and heat of the day! The tidingS
of his death reached me soon after | ictt
that part of the country. y friend thus
wrote me- saw him the day before his
death. He seemed quite inscnsiblc, SO
much was he occupied by his sufferings; once
he frightened whcnI spoke of his Sunday
school class"
There was little girl among them also
"a child of the fairest promise. She was
always in her place in al extremes Of
weather. One Sunday it was intensely
,cold-a most unusual day for southern
winter-she was among the few that BRAY
ed is-but her last lesson Was said! That
night she was attacked by fever, which II
fey days carried her TO the grave. She
died with her little prayer-book under her
pillow, and the last ray Of reason was gwen
to that precious volume.
The same fever that had thus thnned
my numbers, laid low little boy belong
ing to the class of fellow teacher, whose
patient labors are registered in Heaven.
He was the only child Of his parents
the centre ofall their hopes, fears, and anx-
ieties. He had been attacked with unusual
violence, and friends, physicians, nurses, all
but-parents, felt that he must die.
The disease was reaching its crisis,
when went with friend to pass the
night with the little sufferer. Deep still
ness hung around the cottage. At the ex.
tremity Of the low piazza sat two medical
men in anxious consultation. The tones
oftheir voices were low and subdued, and
the expression of each serious aud doubt.
full.
The sick chamber was profoundly still.
1t was difficult to recognize in the sunken
burning countenance before us the mild and
placid features of our little scholar. His
eyes rolled wildly from side to side, and his
mouth was blistered with fever. / took his
hand and parting the curls on his hot brow
asked him of he knew me. a loud ua-
meaning exclamation burst from his lips,
which told the sad story of wandering rea-
son.
The physicians separated, and he TO
whose watchful care the child had been
consigned, prepared to pass the night by his
bedside. The father who had anxiously
waited the result of their consultation.
called him aside, and asked their united
opinion.
DR.. hesitated-" Tell me-" ex
claimed the parent" do not listen in my
own strength"
awe think he cannot survive, said
DR.. tenderly-"to.night, however, is
the critical period, we have decided upon
trying a violent remedy shall remain
and watch its effect-should it be favorable
he may yet be spared TO you-but the nope
is but slender.
The father bowed his head in subnis-
sion, and smnmoning in distant apart
ment such of his family as were not
engaged with the sick. he commended the
child to the arms of his Saviour. His life
was asked, but with deep submission to the
Divine will-not our will, but Thine,, was
the spirit ofthe petition.
The still vigils of the night commenced.
They were interrupted only by the means
of the little sufferer, who after moment of
troubled sleep, would awake to new sense
of his distress. His mother had been per-
suaded to leave the room, and seek some
repose but again and again during the