He belonged to our common humanity. No caste or acquired pride or unapproachable intellectualism cut him off from the people. His simple humanness made him one with us all. And his humanity was singularly comprehensive. It led him, for instance, to investigate the subject of [pg 244] suffering in animals. He noticed that all good men and women rightly shrank from giving pain to them, and he set himself to prove that the capacity for pain decreased as we descended the scale of life, and that poets and others were mistaken when they imputed acute suffering to the lower creation, because of the very restricted response of their nervous system. Even in the case of the human infant, he concluded that only very slight sensations are at first required, and that such only are therefore developed. The sensation of pain does not, probably, reach its maximum till the whole organism is fully developed in the adult individual. "This," he added, with that characteristic touch which made him kin to all oppressed people, "is rather comforting in view of the sufferings of so many infants needlessly sacrificed through the terrible defects of our vicious social system."
To Wallace pain was the birth-cry of a soul's advance—the stamp of rank in nature is capacity for pain. Pain, he held, was always strictly subordinated to the law of utility, and was never developed beyond what was actually needed for the protection and advance of life. This brings the sensitive soul immense relief. Our susceptibility to the higher agonies is a condition of our advance in life's pageant.
Take another instance. Amongst his numerous correspondents there were not a few who decided not to take life, for food, or science, or in war. One young man who went out with the assistance of Wallace to Trinidad and Brazil to become a naturalist, and to whom he wrote many letters[71] of direction and encouragement, gave up the work of collecting—to Wallace's sincere disappointment—and came home because he felt that it was wrong to take the lives of such wondrous and beautiful birds and [pg 245] insects. Another correspondent, who had joined the Navy, wrote a number of long letters to Wallace setting forth his conscientious objections to killing, arrived at after reading Wallace's books; and although Wallace endeavoured from prudential considerations to restrain him from giving up his position, he nevertheless wholly sympathised with him and in the end warmly defended him when it was necessary to do so. The sacrifice, too, of human life in dangerous employments for the purpose of financial gain, no less than the frightful slaughter of the battlefield, was abhorrent to Wallace and aroused his intensest indignation. Life to him was sacred. It had its origin in the spiritual kingdom. "We are lovers of nature, from 'bugs' up to 'humans,'" he wrote to Mr. Fred Birch.
By every means he laboured earnestly to secure an equal opportunity of leading a useful and happy life for all men and women. He championed the cause of women—of their freer life and their more active and public part in national service. He found the selective agency, which was to work for the amelioration he desired, in a higher form of sexual selection, which will be the prerogative of women; and therefore woman's position in the not distant future "will be far higher and more important than any which has been claimed for or by her in the past." When political and social rights are conceded to her on equality with men, her free choice in marriage, no longer influenced by economic and social considerations, will guide the future moral progress of the race, restore the lost equality of opportunity to every child born in our country, and secure the balance between the sexes. "It will be their (women's) special duty so to mould public opinion, through home training and social influence, as to render the women of the future the regenerators of the entire human race."
He was acutely anxious that his ideals should be realised [pg 246] on earth by the masses of the people. He had a large and noble vision of their future. And he had his plan for their immediate redemption—national ownership of the soil, better housing, higher wages, certainty of employment, abolition of preventable diseases, more leisure and wider education, not merely for the practical work of obtaining a livelihood but to enable them to enjoy art and literature and song. His opposition to Eugenics (to adopt the word introduced by Galton, which Wallace called jargon) sprang from his idealism and his love of the people, as well as from his scientific knowledge. On the social side he thought that Eugenics offered less chance of a much-needed improvement of environment than the social reforms which he advocated, whilst on the scientific side he believed that the attempt, with our extremely limited knowledge, to breed men and women by artificial selection was worse than folly. He feared that, as he understood it, Eugenics would perpetuate class distinctions, and postpone social reform, and afford quasi-scientific excuses for keeping people "in the positions Nature intended them to occupy," a scientific reading of the more offensive saying of those who, having plenty themselves, believe that it is for the good of the lower classes to be dependent upon others. "Clear up," he said to the present writer one day, when we drifted into a warm discussion of the teachings of Eugenists; "change the environment so that all may have an adequate opportunity of living a useful and happy life, and give woman a free choke in marriage; and when that has been going on for some generations you may be in a better position to apply whatever has been discovered about heredity and human breeding, and you may then know which are the better stocks."
"Segregation of the unfit," he remarked to an interviewer after the Eugenic Conference, at which much was unhappily said that wholly justified his caustic denunciation, [pg 247] "is a mere excuse for establishing a medical tyranny. And we have enough of this kind of tyranny already ... the world does not want the eugenist to set it straight.... Eugenics is simply the meddlesome interference of an arrogant scientific priestcraft."
Thus his radicalism and his so-called fads were born of his high aspirations. He was not the recluse calmly spinning theories from a bewildering chaos of observations, and building up isolated facts into the unity of a great and illuminating conception in the silence and solitude of his library, unmindful of the great world of sin and sorrow without. He could say with Darwin, "I was born a naturalist"; but we can add that his heart was on fire with love for the toiling masses. He had felt the intense joy of discovering a vast and splendid generalisation, which not only worked a complete revolution in biological science, but has also illuminated the whole field of human knowledge. Yet his greatest ambition was to improve the cruel conditions under which thousands of his fellow-creatures suffered and died, and to make their lives sweeter and happier. His mind was great enough and his heart large enough to encompass all that lies between the visible horizons of human thought and activity, and even in his old age he lived upon the topmost peaks, eagerly looking for the horizon beyond. In the words of the late Mr. Gladstone, he "was inspired with the belief that life was a great and noble calling; not a mean and grovelling thing that we are to shuffle through as we can, but an elevated and lofty destiny."
But we must not be tempted into further disquisition. As he grew older the public Press as well as his friends celebrated his birthdays. Congratulations by telegram and letter poured in upon him and gave him great pleasure. [pg 248] Minor poets sang special solos, or joined in the chorus. One example may be quoted:
ALFRED RUSSEL WALLACE
8TH JANUARY, 1911