Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1876-12-16
BROOKLYN THEATRE IN FLAMES.

and four hundred souls passed from
the scene of the gay to the throne of
God.
It is no time for moralizing on the
influence of theatres upon society
The fatherhood Of God and the broth
erhood Of men shines forth in the
sparkling tears Of thousands of sympa-
thizing survivors. The laws of cou-
sanguinity reign supreme, and We send
up heartfelt God bless you" to
those bowed dowE with grief.
In that Inflated city the Sabbath
had come and gone. The legates of
the skies had stood morning and night
holding out the lamp of life to dying
men. Monday came. Busy men from
store, Office, shop and factory had
rushed to and fro all day long. Wo-
men had thronged the streets, rushed
the machine or piled the needle amid
the cradle-songs of mother-Iove. Bill
posters and carrier-boys had done
their work, and The Two Orphan"
meet the gaze of busy thousands all
the day. Night came. Returning
from his scene of toll the husband
said, Wife, put the children to bed /;
leave them in the care of the servant
girl, and we will go to the theatre +"
They kneel at mammals knee their
sweet little evening prayer is offered ;
mothers kiss and papa's good night
FASTENED on a slumber from which
they were to awake orphans indeed.
The fiction, so enjoyable TO papa and
mamma, becomes a fearful and life
long reality TO them. The gallant lover
leads his afianced to seat of death,
and the contemplated bridal robe be-
comes sheet of fame The widowed
mother chung long to the arm on which
alone she leaned, and anon she stood
over the charred mass, only to see the
armless trunk of her last earthly help
and sink in grief too deep for tears
The child of God had joined in the
service of song the day before, and
heard the word of life from the lips Of
the man of God. Last Sabbath Last
song Last sermon Amid the
cracking flames, tumbling walls and
crushing timbers, Jesus walks with
unscorched feet and out-stretched
arms. "These shall be mine, sayeth
the Lord, in that day when | come to
make up my jewels" and he bears
them away from the lurid glare to the
great white throne. The ungodly man,
fresh from scene of guilt and shame,
had wandered there to get an opiate
for his goading conscience; but his re-
lief was as eYanescent as bubble up
on a wave, and he stood in the pres
ence ofGod with "all his imperfec-
tons on his head" The poorest place
10 all the world in which to offer prayer
to God was that wild scene. A wife
screaming for help; child utters pit
eous cries amid sitting flames; sister
walls and a lover faints. No time for
prayer! And yet, perchance a peni-
tent put his trust in God, aud the Pc
ri, returning from his perigrinations
through earth and sea, walked amid
the flames, gathering penitential tear
drops for heavens bottle; and speed
ing away to the pesrly gates, the angels
| let him in.
But what shall we learn from this
heart -rending disaster? Let us learn
that when God sends his death angel
he is irresistabls. Richmond more
than forty years ago gave testimony to
this truth. Chicago. Boston, Brook
lyn testify. The crisped bodies, with
hands stretched out for help, silently
proclaim I'VE don't want to die in a
theatre" Somehow or other we want
to die at home we want a death bed
scene, christian songs, holy scriptures,
prayer to God. Let the companion
| of our joys and sorrows stand over our
/ dying frames. Let the hand that
helped us up the sleeps of life wipe
the death damp from our brow. Let
| the bosom, 50 long the repository of
all our heart sorrows, pillow our heads
| in death. Let the voice that fell upon
our ears and hearts in our early
life charm us last on earth
Let those whom God has given US
gather around. And upon the sob
bling, heart broken little ones let US
pronounce our dying benedIctiou /;
then we can die with folded hands.
Death has no sympathy; he rides in
cyclones upon stormy sea, and strides
with sea mud upon his feet to meet
Belshazzar at royal feast.
We learn the necessity of self-pos-
session in the midst of danger. With
out this man is not worth much in
this life. When Thomas Rockford,
the usher, took in the situation, being
self possessed he opened the door lead
ing to Floods alley, and hundreds es-
capped fiery death.
In that confagration there were
some things not burned up. The
souls of the departed still live. Wheth
er wailing for water, or reclining on
Abraham's bosom, they live forever.
The sins of the wicked were not burned
up. 1t was no purgatorial fire, burn
ing and purging away their foul crimes
committed in their days of nature.
That Brooklyn fire has gone out, while
the fire reserved for sinners is eternal.
Christian character was not burned
up; holy living can never be consumed.
The righteousness of the righteous
shall be held in everlasting remen
brance 1t is pleasing to think that
we can do imperishable work. Stat
ues crumble and fall, paintings fade,
dynastys pass away. Newton's pet
dog tore up manuscript representing
twenty-five years of the philosophers
toll. But the good we do shall live
forever. You who live with reference
to another and better world be en-
couraged.
Tn tho midst IF life We are in the