east this much of its meaning:

(1) The Spirit like the wind is _sovereign_. "The wind bloweth where it
listeth" (John iii. 8). You cannot dictate to the wind. It does as it
wills. Just so with the Holy Spirit--He is sovereign--we cannot dictate to
Him. He "divides to each man" severally even "_as He will_" (1 Cor. xii.
11, R. V.). When the wind is blowing from the north you may long to have
it blow from the south, but cry as clamorously as you may to the wind,
"Blow from the south" it will keep right on blowing from the north. But
while you cannot dictate to the wind, while it blows as it will, you may
learn the laws that govern the wind's motions and by bringing yourself
into harmony with those laws, you can get the wind to do your work. You
can erect your windmill so that whichever way the wind blows from the
wheels will turn and the wind will grind your grain, or pump your water.
Just so, while we cannot dictate to the Holy Spirit we can learn the laws
of His operations and by bringing ourselves into harmony with those laws,
above all by submitting our wills absolutely to His sovereign will, the
sovereign Spirit of God will work through us and accomplish His own
glorious work by our instrumentality.

(2) The Spirit like the wind is _invisible but none the less perceptible
and real and mighty_. You hear the sound of the wind (John iii. 8) but the
wind itself you never see. You hear the voice of the Spirit but He Himself
is ever invisible. (The word translated "sound" in John iii. 8 is the word
which elsewhere is translated "voice." See R. V.) We not only hear the
voice, of the wind but we see its mighty effects. We feel the breath of
the wind upon our cheeks, we see the dust and the leaves blowing before
the wind, we see the vessels at sea driven swiftly towards their ports;
but the wind itself remains invisible. Just so with the Spirit; we feel
His breath upon our souls, we see the mighty things He does, but Himself
we do not see. He is invisible, but He is real and perceptible. I shall
never forget a solemn hour in Chicago Avenue Church, Chicago. Dr. W. W.
White was making a farewell address before going to India to work among
the students there. Suddenly, without any apparent warning, the place was
filled with an awful and glorious Presence. To me it was very real, but
the question arose in my mind, "Is this merely subjective, just a feeling
of my own, or is there an objective Presence here?" After the meeting was