The daily morning journal and courier., 1899-12-11
ADDRESS BY REV. MIR IRVINE
TO THE MEN,S MEETING IN THE
 GRAND OPERA HOUSE.

f "voices Human and Divine" Was tn
 Subject-The Voice the Organ of tn SOul-A Large Audience Listened {, the Talk-Stnging by E. y. Todd ant
 G. E. Goodwin.
 large number of men gathered al the Y. M c. A. meeting in the Grand Opera house yesterday afternoon tc
 listen to the address of the Rev Alex
 ander Fitzgerald Irvine. The orchestra
 rendered several selections and E. J
 Todd sang two solos, "The Heavenly
 Fold" and '"rhe Lord is My Light" G.
 Elmer Goodwin sang very effectively
 at the close of the service "Where is
 My Soul Tonight" MT. Irvines ad-
 dress was preceded by several beauti-
 full stereopticon views from the life of
 Bunyan. Following is synopsis of the
 discourse. The subject of MT. Irvine's
 talk was Voices; Human and Di- vine." He spoke as follows:
 Bunyan says the ear is the shortest road to the town of Mansoul. His pict- ures are true to life. Captain Prejudice with his sixty deaf men keeps guard at Eargate. Off wonder in the distance Is Prince Immanuel and his army. Dia- bolus is in possession of the town and Emmanuel begins the siege. If the town of Mansoul can but hear the voice of the prince the day of Diabolus is over. We are here to-day to over power Prejudice and his deaf men, that you may hear the voice of the Prince. The voice is the organ of the souls You may bring together all the instruments of music and gather the great master musicians of the world into one mighty orchestra and for power pathos and harmony the human voice will outdo them all We discover this usually when voices whose music has thrilled us in the past is stilled forever
 "Oh for the touch of vanished hand And the sound of voice that is still"
 The ages back of us are full of voices. Let me paint you few word pictures of the past. Here is a sepulcher gar landed with faded flowers. In it lie bright dreams and visions which died ere they were realized. Here is cross at whose foot lies a wreath of faded 1aurels; 1t marks the crucifxion of great sin in your life. Here is grave; new made; buried here is a great hope upon which your life for time re- vo1ved. The voices of this dream ceme- tery speak to you to-day and l want you to listen. Look, here is picture of the sea of life across whose broad ex- panse in years agone you sent a fleet of ships; ships of hope, ambition and desire. Many of them were torn by the tempest and wrecked; some came home and brought wisdom, some brought you experience. l hold in my hand photograph cylinder. In it is recorded the sound of human voice. I dash it on the pavement and the record is gone forever, but the bitter words you burned into someone's soul cannot be destroyed. In anger you spoke; your words were like a pencil dipped in caustic and they burned into the very soul. That stands forever! IT I could produce the harsh bitter words you have uttered in one year! What a bedlam would be here! These voices are not to be dwelt upon. 1 pass on to others. Next to the voice of God the voice of the sea speaks loudest to me. I have sat when boy, on a crag of my rock bound native coast and listened to the voice of the sea. The waves came in and dashed themselves with a voice of thunder on the rocks beneath. I have heard it's voice on the deep when it sang a dirge through dismantled ! masts and torn sails. This voice is less familiar to some than the voice of | the Sabbath bell. You all heard it in youth. Be still moment! Listen do | you hear it now? What does it say to YOU? It says T chimed merrily when . your ancestors led their brides to our altars; I called them to the worship { and praise of God and when their . course was run I tolled the funeral march"
 'sOh hear voice you cannot hear.
 Which says you must not stay;
 I see a hand you cannot see
 Reckoning you away"
 Have you listened in the springtime to the voices of the birds? They speak for God and each one has it's own mes sage. The lark is the bird of the morn ing. Oh how thrilling to watch the meadow lark of the old world soar away off into the clouds singing his matin song.
 Birds of the wilderness,
 Blithesome and cumberless,
 Sweet be thy matins,
 Der moorland and lea."
 The liquid tones of the blackbird fills the morning, the yellow-hammer takes care of the afternoon and pipes to the setting sun. The evening is resonant with the call of the cuckoo, the crake, crake, crake, of the land-rail. The moon rises over the city and far off in wonder forest the nightingale chants in sovereignty as queen of song and all these are voices of God speaking to the human soul. But louder than these is the voice of con ( science Oh let it speak for God to-day, ( brother man! Let it call you into line with the forces of God for the service $ of man. The voice of God called Adam ( out of sin in Eden; it called to Elijah ( in the cleft of the rock and to Saul of z Tarsus bent on the persecution of the | Nazarenes and throughout your whole life His voice in a thousand tones has
 I1~ ,n11r.