Let us rather look with calmness, and even with hope and good will, on these new theories; for, correct or incorrect, they surely mark a tendency toward a more, not a less, scriptural view of nature.  Are they not attempts, whether successful or unsuccessful, to escape from that shallow mechanical notion of the universe and its Creator which was too much in vogue in the eighteenth century among divines as well as philosophers; the theory which Goethe (to do him justice), and after him Mr. Thomas Carlyle, have treated with such noble scorn; the theory, I mean, that God has wound up the universe like a clock, and left it to tick by itself till it runs down, never troubling Himself with it, save possibly—­for even that was only half believed—­by rare miraculous interferences with the laws which He Himself had made?  Out of that chilling dream of a dead universe ungoverned by an absent God, the human mind, in Germany especially, tried during the early part of this century to escape by strange roads; roads by which there was no escape, because they were not laid down on the firm ground of scientific facts.  Then, in despair, men turned to the facts which they had neglected, and said:  We are weary of philosophy; we will study you, and you alone.  As for God, who can find Him?  And they have worked at the facts like gallant and honest men; and their work, like all good work, has produced, in the last fifty years, results more enormous than they even dreamed.  But what are they finding, more and more, below their facts, below all phenomena which the scalpel and the microscope can show?  A something nameless, invisible, imponderable, yet seemingly omnipresent and omnipotent, retreating before them deeper and deeper, the deeper they delve:  namely, the life which shapes and makes—­that which the old school-men called “forma formativa,” which they call vital force and what not—­metaphors all, or rather counters to mark an unknown quantity, as if they should call it x or y.  One says:  It is all vibrations; but his reason, unsatisfied, asks:  And what makes the vibrations vibrate?  Another:  It is all physiological units; but his reason asks:  What is the “physis,” the nature and “innate tendency” of the units?  A third:  It may be all caused by infinitely numerous “gemmules;” but his reason asks him:  What puts infinite order into those gemmules, instead of infinite anarchy?  I mention these theories not to laugh at them.  No man has a deeper respect for those who have put them forth.  Nor would it interfere with my theological creed, if any or all of them were proven to be true to-morrow.  I mention them only to show that beneath all these theories—­true or false—­still lies the unknown x.  Scientific men are becoming more and more aware of it; I had almost said ready to worship it.  More and more the noblest-minded of them are engrossed by the mystery of that unknown and truly miraculous element in Nature, which is always escaping them, though they cannot escape it.  How should they escape it?  Was it not written of old:  “Whither shall I go from Thy presence, or whither shall I flee from Thy spirit?”