At the same time Wallace became attracted by, and interested in, the flowers, shrubs and trees growing in that part of Bedfordshire, and he acquired some elementary knowledge of zoology. "It was," he writes, "while living at Barton that I obtained my first information that there was such a science as geology.... My brother, like most land-surveyors, was something of a geologist, and he showed me the fossil oysters of the genus Gryphæa and the Belemnites ... and several other fossils which were abundant in the chalk and gravel around Barton.... It was here, too, that during my solitary rambles I first began to feel the influence of nature and to wish to know more of the various flowers, shrubs and trees I daily met with, but of which for the most part I did not even know the English names. At that time [pg 021]I hardly realised that there was such a science as systematic botany, that every flower and every meanest and most insignificant weed had been accurately described and classified, and that there was any kind of system or order in the endless variety of plants and animals which I knew existed. This wish to know the names of wild plants, to be able to speak ... about them, had arisen from a chance remark I had overheard about a year before. A lady ... whom we knew at Hertford, was talking to some friends in the street when I and my father met them ... [and] I heard the lady say, 'We found quite a rarity the other day—the Monotropa; it had not been found here before.' This I pondered over, and wondered what the Monotropa was. All my father could tell me was that it was a rare plant; and I thought how nice it must be to know the names of rare plants when you found them."[3]
One can picture the tall quiet boy going on these solitary rambles, his eye becoming gradually quickened to perceive new forms in nature, contrasting them one with another, and beginning to ponder over the cause which led to the diverse formation and colouring of leaves apparently of the same family.
It was in 1841, four years later, that he heard of, and at once procured, a book published at a shilling by the S.P.C.K. (the title of which he could not recall in after years), to which he owed his first scientific glimmerings of the vast study of botany. The next step was to procure, at much self-sacrifice, Lindley's "Elements of Botany," published at half a guinea, which to his immense disappointment he found of very little use, as it did not deal with British plants! His disappointment was lessened, however, by the loan from a Mr. Hayward of London's "Encyclopedia of Plants," and it was with the help of these two books that he made his first classification [pg 022]of the specimens which he had collected and carefully kept during the few preceding years.
"It must be remembered," he says in "My Life," "that my ignorance of plants at this time was extreme. I knew the wild rose, bramble, hawthorn, buttercup, poppy, daisy and foxglove, and a very few others equally common.... I knew nothing whatever as to genera and species, nor of the large number of distinct forms related to each and grouped into natural orders. My delight, therefore, was great when I was ... able to identify the charming little eyebright, the strange-looking cow-wheat and louse-wort, the handsome mullein and the pretty creeping toad-flax, and to find that all of them, as well as the lordly foxglove, formed parts of one great natural order, and that under all their superficial diversity of form was a similarity of structure which, when once clearly understood, enabled me to locate each fresh species with greater ease." This, however, was not sufficient, and the last step was to form a herbarium.
"I soon found," he wrote, "that by merely identifying the plants I found in my walks I lost much time in gathering the same species several times, and even then not being always quite sure that I had found the same plant before. I therefore began to form a herbarium, collecting good specimens and drying them carefully between drying papers and a couple of boards weighted with books or stones.... I first named the species as nearly as I could do so, and then laid them out to be pressed and dried. At such times," he continues—and I have quoted the passage for the sake of this revealing confession—"I experienced the joy which every discovery of a new form of life gives to the lover of nature, almost equal to those raptures which I afterwards felt at every capture of new butterflies on the Amazon, or at the constant stream of new species of birds, beetles [pg 023]and butterflies in Borneo, the Moluccas, and the Aru Islands."[4]
Anything in the shape of gardening papers and catalogues which came in his way was eagerly read, and to this source he owed his first interest in the fascinating orchid.
"A catalogue published by a great nurseryman in Bristol ... contained a number of tropical orchids, of whose wonderful variety and beauty I had obtained some idea from the woodcuts in Loudon's 'Encyclopedia.' The first epiphytal orchid I ever saw was at a flower show in Swansea ... which caused in me a thrill of enjoyment which no other plant in the show produced. My interest in this wonderful order of plants was further enhanced by reading in the Gardener's Chronicle an article by Dr. Lindley on one of the London flower shows, where there was a good display of orchids, in which ... he added, 'and Dendrobium Devonianum, too delicate and beautiful for a flower of earth.' This and other references ... gave them, in my mind, a weird and mysterious charm ... which, I believe, had its share in producing that longing for the tropics which a few years later was satisfied in the equatorial forests of the Amazon."[5]
For a brief period, when there was a lull in the surveying business and his prospects of continuing in this profession looked uncertain, he tried watchmaking, and would probably—though not by choice—have been apprenticed to it but for an unexpected circumstance which caused his master to give up his business. Alfred gladly, when the occasion offered, returned to his outdoor life, which had [pg 024]begun to make the strongest appeal to him, stronger, perhaps, than he was really aware.
Early in 1844 another break occurred, due to the sudden falling off of land surveying as a profitable business. His brother could no longer afford to keep him as assistant, finding it indeed difficult to obtain sufficient employment for himself. As Wallace knew no other trade or profession, the only course which occurred to his mind as possible by which to earn a living was to get a post as school teacher.
After one or two rather amusing experiences, he eventually found himself in very congenial surroundings under the Rev. Abraham Hill, headmaster of the Collegiate School at Leicester. Here he stayed for a little more than a year, during which time—in addition to his school work and a considerable amount of hard reading on subjects to which he had not hitherto been able to devote himself—he was led to become greatly interested in phrenology and mesmerism, and before long found himself something of an expert in giving mesmeric demonstrations before small audiences. Phrenology, he believed, proved of much value in determining his own characteristics, good and bad, and in guiding him to a wise use of the faculties which made for his ultimate success; while his introduction to mesmerism had not a little to do with his becoming interested and finally convinced of the part played by spiritualistic forces and agencies in human life.