the book of Wisdom gives
us, "as the Divine Spirit who filleth the world."

And to this conception of God, Evolution has no antagonism, but on the
contrary, throws its immense weight in its favor. Evolution, in fact,
instead of removing the Deity from us, brings him close about us; sets
us face to face with his daily activities. The universe is but the body
of which God is the soul; "the Interior Artist," as Giordano Bruno used
to say, who from within moulds his living shapes of beauty and power.
What else, in fact, is Evolution but the secular name for the Divine
Indwelling; the scientific alias for the growth and progressive
revelation of the Holy Spirit, daily putting off the old and putting on
the new; constantly busy from the beginning of time to this very day
moulding and forwarding his work?

Not long ago I came across the mental experience of a working geologist
which well illustrates this. "Once in early boyhood," says Mr. James E.
Mills, "I left a lumberman's camp at night to go to the brook for water.
It was a clear, cold, moonlight night and very still, except the distant
murmuring of the Penobscot at some falls. A sense of the grandeur of the
forest and rivers, the hills, and sky, and stars came over the boy, and
he stood and looked around. An owl hooted, and the hooting was not a
cheerful sound. The men were all asleep, and the conditions were lonely
enough. But there was no feeling of loneliness; for with the sense of
the grandeur of creation, came the sense, very real and strong, of the
Creator's presence. In boyish imagination, I could see His almighty hand
shaping the hills and scooping out the valleys, spreading the sky
overhead, and making trees, animals, and men. Thirty years later I
camped alone in the open air on the bank of the Gila. It was a clear,
cold, moonlight night. The camp-fire was low, for the Apaches were on
the warpath. An owl again hooted; but again all loneliness was dispelled
by a sense of the Creator's presence, and the night of long ago by the
Penobscot came into my mind, and with it the question: What is the
difference to my mind between the Creator's presence now and then? To
the heart, it was very like, but to the mind very different. Now, no
great hand was shaping things from without. But God was everywhere,
reaching down through long lines of forces, and shaping and sustaining
things from within. I had been travelling all day by mountains of lava
which had cooled long ages