Knoxville daily chronicle. [volume] (Knoxville, Tenn.) 1870-1882, 1879-08-08
THE SONGS OF OUR FATHERS.
Some of the Fine Old Melodies Which
Have Passed Away.
From the Indianapolis News.

that appealed to the intellect ana
nothing that appealed to the refined
taste. But we have seen a whole
congregation in tears as they sang
that fine old hymn, "Taklng the
parting hand" Who ever saw a
tear pa. si start at the bidding of choir ?
It was the pathos of the poetry alone
that stirred feeling 80 deeply. There
were tears in the melody, sympathy
in every note, though there were
graceful harmonies nowhere. Anoth-
er grand old hymn that seems to be
relocated to the limbo of old fash
ions is, cam I soldier of the
cross Z" We believe it occasion
ally forces its way up through the
crust of culture, at least in the out
lying emission" congregations ;
but do choirs ever sing it? 1t is a
magnificent melody, equal to Luther's
s'Eln tester Burgh," and is very ex-
pressive of Christian resolution.
Nothing mere admirably adapted to
the force and volume and enthusi-
asm of congregational singing lies
within our, knowledge. Probably
that is the reason that choirs don't
sing it. It wants the crash and roar
of thousand voices to give full ex
preston to the force in it, and then
the man who can hear it unmoved is
q pitiable animal indeed.
The Methodists used to have. for
ty years ago, an air that they prob>
ably sang to more than any one
hymn, but to whatever words it was
fitted every line was followed by
refrain, "Glory hallelujah," the last
one of stanza closing with "Oh,
Zion, hallelujah." It was very
simple tune, hardly ranging through
a single octave, simpler than the old
hymn tune now called "John
Browns Body" but it had that sub
tie, untraceable power of expression
that made it fit the feelings of an
excited congregation, and an open
mouthed volume of tones that made
it perfect storm of melody. It is
gone now, though, but we doubt
much if anything so good has come
10 its place. A very fine sacred
song, which we rarely hear now,
never hear from choir, has a cho-.
rus, "We'll work till Jesus calls,
and then be welcomed home" The
air is fine AMI finely adapted to con-
gregational singing, the only sing
ing that has any pretension to a
place in genuine worship. A large
choir could give it some of its prop
err effect, but it needs a house full or
a woods full of worshippers to
make it ring out all the force that
lies latent in it.
One of the most plaintive of the
old-time hymns began, or at least
one of its stanzas did, Time, like
an overriding tide, bears all its
sons away" and it was sung to that
lachrymose of airs, Dunlap's
Greek" 1t was a doleful thing,
but it had melody, character and
meaning, something that can't be
said of much Of our cultured music,
which has no more character than a
national Congressman, and no more
flavor than poplar chip. A song
frequently employed in hortatory
fashion, as its language intends it to
be, when converts were invited to
" come out from the world" began,
"Come, humble sinner, in whose
breast thousand thoughts reyolve."
It was sung to a mild adaptation of
an old irish air called "The Peeler
and the Goat" but the adaptation
suited the song, and the song suited
the occasion on which it was used,
and we have had no choir singing
half as apt or effective. A beautl-
full melody was usually, or always,
so far as we remember, sung to a
song in which occurred this stanza
"Oh that could with happy John
Recline my weaIied hea upon
The blesE Redremer's breast.
From care aud fear and sorrow free,
Give me, oh Lord, to fi0d in thee
My everlasting rest"
There is nothing finer in either
music or sentiment in all our latter
day "choiring." But it is utterly
gone. We can't take space to nos
tice all the fine old sacred songs
and melodies that have passed away
with the progress of community
from zbackwoods and simplicity to
metropolitan dilettanteism, but we
must allude to, one, which it seems
to US is positive loss to the cause
of religion, because it is the loss of
an instrumentality hard to replace.
s'How firm foundation, We saints
of the Lord" is the first line of as
grand song as can be found in all
hymnology. It is a jubilant ex-
preston of Christian faith, the
song of full soul pouring out its
trust for the encouragement of
weaker or emptier souls. And the
melody has a movement as majestic
as s'Old Hundred" and more viva