And to Mr. F. Birch:
December 30, 1908.
Dear Fred,— ... I received a letter from Lord Knollys—the King's Private Secretary—informing me that His Majesty proposed to offer me the Order of Merit, among the Birthday honours! This is an "Order" established by the present King about eight years ago, solely for "merit"—whether civil or military—it is a pity it was not civil only, as the military have so many distinctions already. So I had to compose a very polite letter of acceptance and thanks, and then later I had to beg to be excused (on the ground of age and delicate health) from attending the investiture at Buckingham Palace (on [pg 224] December 14th), when Court dress—a kind of very costly livery—is obligatory! and I was kept for weeks waiting. But at last one of the King's Equerries, Col. Legge (an Earl's son), came down here about two weeks ago bringing the Order, which is a very handsome cross in red and blue enamel and gold—rich colours—with a crown above, and a rich ribbed-silk blue and crimson riband to hang it round the neck! Col. Legge was very pleasant, stayed half an hour, had some tea, and showed us how to wear it. So I shall be in duty bound to wear it on the only public occasion I shall be seen again (in all probability), when I give (or attempt to give) my lecture.[66] Then, I had a letter from Windsor telling me that chalk portraits of all the members of the Order were to be taken for the collections in the Library, and a Mr. Strang came and stayed the night, and in four hours completed a very good life-size head, in coloured chalk, and so far, so good!—Yours very sincerely,
ALFRED R. WALLACE.
Wallace regarded "Sunlight's" prophecy about "retrospection" as being fulfilled in 1904, when he received the invitation of Messrs. Chapman and Hall to begin collecting material for his autobiography which was subsequently published in two large volumes, under the title of "My Life."
Referring to this work he wrote to Mrs. Fisher:
Broadstone, Dorset. April 17, 1904.
Dear Mrs. Fisher,—Thanks for your remarks on what an autobiography ought to be. But I am afraid I shall fall dreadfully short. I seem to remember nothing but ordinary facts and incidents of no interest to anyone but my own family. I do not feel myself that anything has much influenced my character or abilities, such as they are. Lots of things have given me opportunities, and those I can state. Also other things have directed me into certain lines, but I can't dilate on these; and really, with the exception of Darwin and Sir Charles Lyell, I [pg 225] have come into close relations with hardly any eminent men. All my doings and surroundings have been commonplace!
I am now just reading a charming and ideal bit of autobiography—Robert Dale Owen's "Threading my Way." If you have not read it, do get it (published by Trübner and Co. in 1874). It is delightful. So simple and natural throughout. But his father was one of the most wonderful men of the nineteenth century—Robert Owen of New Lanark—and this book gives the true history of his great success. Then R.D. Owen met Clarkson and heard from his own lips how he worked to abolish the slave trade.