LORA VALE. She was dying, gentle Lora ; She was passing like a sigh CHORUS.-Lora, Lora, still we love thee, Tho' we see thy form no more, Brightly dawned the morrow's morning, Still with mournful hearts we lingered She was almost at the river, When the light broke from the sky, And she smiled and whispered faintly, "I am not afraid to die." Softly through the trellised window But she heeded not its mildness, For she slept the sleep of death; 31 This was the commencement of the exercise of his gifts as a composer. The style of the song will show that the conception of the use of song as conveying Gospel truth had not yet come to him. It is a song of sentiment, of a kind good in its way, but which it would have been impossible to have got him to write during the last years of life. The song became popular, and enjoyed a sale of several thousands. Let the reader place in contrast the words of this song, sweet in its sentiment, but purposeless in teaching, and without specific mention of Christ, and the words of the two latest-so far as is known-hymns that he ever wrote, found in this book, and some correct idea of his development can be obtained. From 1864 to 1876, twelve years, his pen was busy in giving expression to the songs that came thronging through his soul. All of his work was done during these years. He was twenty-six years old when he wrote his first song, and thirty-eight when he wrote his last. In the year 1863 or '64 he first met Mr. George F. Root, of Chicago. The acquaintance then formed became an intimate friendship, and was one of the links in the chain of providence that led him into a larger field of usefulness; and finally into the place God was preparing him for, of a Gospel singer. Mr. Root thus writes of his first impressions and memories of Mr. Bliss: My acquaintance with Mr. Bliss did not begin very early in his life, though it might have been near the beginning of his musical career. He had attended a term or two of a normal musical institute, had taught some, and had given some concerts near his home, when he wrote his first letter to me. This letter contained an early-perhaps his first musical composition, song entitled Lora Vale. a The song was promising, but the letter was more so, as indicating an individual entirely out of the common run of literary or musical aspirants. I think this letter, with many other mementoes of Mr. Bliss that would now be useful, was in my office and was destroyed at the great fire of Chicago, October 8 & 9, 1871; at any rate, they cannot now be found. We published Lora Vale, and this led to further correspondence. And our interest constantly increased in this many-sided “country-boy," as he called himself. His curious conceits, so piquant and varied, his beautiful penmanship, his bright nature, that could not seem to see anything unhappy or unbeautiful in life, attracted us strongly, and led often to letters on my part that were not needed for business purposes, but were for the sake of the answer they were sure to bring. The deeper nature of the man did not show then, but that which did appear was pure and lovely, and of good report." Whether the proposition to come to Illinois was out of the whole cloth from us, or whether he intimated, as our correspondence progressed, that he would like to come, I do not remember; but about 1863 or '64 he did come, and pleasant was our surprise to find that our bright and attractive letter-writer lived in a "house" every way worthy of him. It is rare indeed to find both mind and body alike so strong, healthy and beautiful in one individual as they were in him. He went to work, first about the State, holding musical conventions and giving concerts and attending to the interests of certain parts of our business; sending to us occasional communications for our musical paper and occasional compositions. I do not recall particulars about these compositions. I only know that it was my pleasure to look them over and suggest, if I could, improvements, or hints at faults now and then, especially in the earlier ones. I say my pleasure, for never had teacher so teachable and docile a subject for criticism, (I can hardly say pupil, for I never taught him regularly), nor one who repaid with such generous affection the small services that were in this way rendered to him. His modesty as well as his generosity always inclined him to give to others much of the credit that belonged to his own GEO. F. ROOT'S REMINISCENCES. 333 Heaven-sent gifts. A favorite signature in his letters to me was "Your Poor Pupil Bliss." I do not know of his modes or habits of composition, but do know of his wonderful fertility and facility. His responses to the calls for the many kinds of literary and musical work that we soon found he could do always surprised us as much by their promptness as by their uniform excellence. It is probable that with every topic that entered his mind there came trooping multitudes of congruous ideas, images and words, and he had only to take his choice; and his choice was always happy, always appropriate and often striking in its originality and beauty. As Mr. F. W. Root, in a recent number of the Musical Visitor, says of Mr. Bliss: “ His faculty for seizing upon the salient features of whatever came under his notice amounted to an unerring instinct. The one kernel of wheat in a bushel of chaff was the first thing he saw." It was lovely to see how near to all he did was his religion. There was for him no line on one side of which was a bright face and on the other a solemn one. His smile went into his religion and his religion into his smile. His Lord was always welcome and apparently always there in his open and loving heart. It was this that made his liveliness so irresistibly sweet and attractive. You constantly felt its sphere of innocence. This hymn, by a kindred spirit, is a most true expression of his constant condition : Thy happy ones a strain begin; Dost not Thou, Lord, glad souls possess? Thy cheerful Spirit dwells within; We feel Thee in our joyfulness. Our mirth is not afraid of Thee; Thou wilt not, Lord, our smiles deny. We turn to Thee a smiling face, Thou sendest us a smile again; Our joy, the richness of Thy grace, Thine own, the cheer of this glad strain. In speaking of himself in a lecture before a State Sunday School Associa tion, this pleasant insight occurs. After making the remark, "Let song develop feeling and then do not fail to use it to direct and purify affection," he goes on: "I well remember a loving, large-eyed lad who in the day school could scarcely sing the old song of A, B, C, D, E, F, G (Haste thee, winter'), but that the tears would fall and mark the time. The lad knew not why he wept, but the faithful Christian teacher turned this mighty motive power to heavenly purposes, and gave these outflowing sympathies wholesome food. So the love of song grew and prevailed, so the channel of the affections widened, and so the lad, though taller grown, stands here to plead for song." In another article in his correspondence with our musical paper, he speaks in a characteristic way of the death of a friend who had written some poetry for him; but other extracts from this article are so illustrative of his every-day life that we also insert them here in their order. He begins with speaking of a "general association of ministers," in which he conducted the music, thus: There was a deal of mighty fine talking, a few earnest prayers, but very little hearty singing. Why is it that so few ministers sing? Wouldn't it improve their voices, and hearts too? But please don't put me down as fault-finding. I think Sunshine and its author had a full share of attention. On the other hand, let me tell this. During the convention in Burlington, Iowa, a few weeks since, which, by the way, was a "real good one "-though the first since W. B. Bradbury was there, fourteen or fifteen years ago-it was my good fortune to be a guest of Dr. Salter, Pastor of the Congregational Church, and to hear at family worship such solid tunes as Duke Street, Peterboro, St. Martin's, etc., sung by all the household, all singing soprano in a spirited manner, making a lasting impression on my soul. I don't believe ministers' and deacons' families are a whit worse than other folks,—N. B. My father was never even a sexton-but I do believe that every Christian family should be a praise-giving band, and, if possible, 'psalm-singers.' Since Burlington, I have sung in Waukegan and Milburn, within forty miles of Chicago, and the statistics show that not one-half of the children of that county (Lake) are in Sunday School, nor in any way hear the Gospel sound.' Surely there is work enough to do! An event worthy to be recorded and never to be forgotten is the departure-I can't say death of Kate Cameron. Her name was first on a list of thirty to unite with our church the very day she received the welcome to the Church above. She has written many sweet spiritual songs, but none more beautiful, I think, than "That City," written for The Joy, and sung at her own funeral : "You tell me of a city That is so bright and fair, Sure enough, I wonder why we don't? And here again after we had suggested that he occupy a certain place regularly in the paper. This was among the last things before increasing work on his part and new business relations on ours caused a loving separation, after a nearly ten years' connection. P. P. BLISS, HIS COLUMN. SELECTED EDITORIAL. IN assuming editorial charge of this column, we make our editorial bow (wow), etc. In our treatment of those vast and vital issues of the momentous future, we shall endeavor to maintain a persistent, etc. In view of our past editorial experience, we can confidently promise-etc. Our old friends and acquaintances need scarcely to be told that they may expect us to pay -o, etc., etc. EDITORIAL CORRESPONDENCE -AHEM! OMAHA, Neb., July 15, 1873. Just five hundred miles in twenty-four hours-and you'll see the center of the world! No, not quite. We call it, "Away out West," but it lacks thirty miles of being the middle of Uncle Sam's farm! [I was tempted to go the thirty miles further, so I could say I'd been half-way across.] And the programmes said, "The Fifth Annual State Sunday School Convention." Though as to numbers and results 'twas called the beginning of things. "Elaborate and elegant," was the unanimous verdict on the church decorations; "Cordial and complete," the welcome; "Harmonious and helpful" all the exercises. The success of the music department is the subject of this article. Saml. Burns, Superintendent of the M. E. S. S., of Omaha, in behalf of the Executive Committee, sent on for fifty copies of the book to be used, and had two or three weeks' practice: so much for preparation. Professor Nightingale, President of the Convention, was, as you'd know by his name, a musical spirit, and gave the singing its proper place and time in each session, so that music seemed to be one of the exercises, and not a mere pastime. So much for selection. Dr. J. H. Vincent, of New York, father and founder of the "Berean Series” and “S. School Journal," being the prominent speaker, aided the singing materially, not only by his kindly words concerning it, but by engaging heartily in it, both its chorus and quartette. So much for sympathy. Mr. F. J. Hartley, of London, Eng., also a live worker in S. S., manifested a wonderful interest in everything pertaining to American institutions, and complimented the style of our S. S. songs and the manner in which they are rendered, as worthy of imitation. So much for Christian charity. The Children's Mass Meeting of course was a grand success, and the speeches and songs "splendid!" Among the pieces sung were: "Hold the Fort," "Daniel's Band," "More to Follow," "Heaven for Me," ,""Pull for the Shore," and "Remembered." (At that time recently issued.) Something about an "Old Piano" was sung and apparently enjoyed, but some folks might consider "sacred" songs only appropriate, and perhaps nothing had better be said about profane" songs in such a solemn convention. (?) All in all, a more social convention (ice cream included) could not be imagined. And in the years to come, Nebraska will be a bright star in the Sunday School firmament. That her Sunday School singing may be as popular as the U. P. R. R., and her Christian charity be as broad and inviting as her blooming prairies, is the wish of SUNSHINE. The Joy is a good name for a singing book. Don't you think so? The name was discovered, as a great many other good things are yet to be, in the Bible. Turn to Jeremiah, 33d chapter and 11th verse-and you will find it. Though, as it may not be convenient to turn just now-people seldom turn to look up a quotation-it may be well enough to print it here. "The voice of joy, and the voice of gladness; the voice of the bridegroom, and the voice of the bride; the voice of them that shall say, Praise the Lord of Hosts: for the Lord is good; for His mercy endureth forever." Dear Bliss and dear Mrs. Bliss, I cannot think of you without a pang and a longing, but I know they will gradually wear away, and nothing but joy will remain for our next meeting. GEO. F. ROOT. The article by F. W. Root, in Church's Musical Visitor for January, 1876, quoted from by Mr. Geo. F. Root, is so excellent in its appreciation of Mr. Bliss, that it is given entire : |