"I have collected a few notes on man, but I do not suppose that I shall ever use them. Do you intend to follow out your views, and if so, would you like at some future time to have my few references and notes? I am sure I hardly know whether they are of any value, and they are at present in a state of chaos. There is much more that I should like to write, but I have not strength." But this was at a period of ill-health; not long before, in 1863, he had written in the same depressed tone about his future work generally:—

"I have been so steadily going downhill, I cannot help doubting whether I can ever crawl a little uphill again. Unless I can, enough to work a little, I hope my life may be very short, for to lie on a sofa all day and do nothing but give trouble to the best and kindest of wives and good dear children is dreadful."

The "Chapter on Man," which afterwards grew into the Descent of Man, was interrupted by the necessity of correcting the proofs of Animals and Plants, and by some botanical work, but was resumed with unremitting industry on the first available day in the following year. He could not rest, and he recognised with regret the gradual change in his mind that rendered continuous work more and more necessary to him as he grew older. This is expressed in a letter to Sir J. D. Hooker, June 17, 1868, which repeats to some extent what is given in the Autobiography:—

"I am glad you were at the Messiah, it is the one thing that I should like to hear again, but I dare say I should find my soul too dried up to appreciate it as in old days; and then I should feel very flat, for it is a horrid bore to feel as I constantly do, that I am a withered leaf for every subject except Science. It sometimes makes me hate Science, though God knows I ought to be thankful for such a perennial interest, which makes me forget for some hours every day my accursed stomach."

The Descent of Man (and this is indicated on its title-page) consists of two separate books, namely on the pedigree of mankind, and on sexual selection in the animal kingdom generally. In studying this latter part of the subject he had to take into consideration the whole subject of colour. I give the two following characteristic letters, in which the reader is as it were present at the birth of a theory.

C. D. to A. R. Wallace. Down, February 23 [1867].

Dear Wallace,—I much regretted that I was unable to call on you, but after Monday I was unable even to leave the house. On Monday evening I called on Bates, and put a difficulty before him, which he could not answer, and, as on some former similar occasion, his first suggestion was, "You had better ask Wallace." My difficulty is, why are caterpillars sometimes so beautifully and artistically coloured? Seeing that many are coloured to escape danger, I can hardly attribute their bright colour in other cases to mere physical conditions. Bates says the most gaudy caterpillar he ever saw in Amazonia (of a sphinx) was conspicuous at the distance of yards, from its black and red colours, whilst feeding on large green leaves. If any one objected to male butterflies having been made beautiful by sexual selection, and asked why should they not have been made beautiful as well as their caterpillars, what would you answer? I could not answer, but should maintain my ground. Will you think over this, and some time, either by letter or when we meet, tell me what you think?...

He seems to have received an explanation by return of post, for a day or two afterwards he could write to Wallace:—

"Bates was quite right; you are the man to apply to in a difficulty. I never heard anything more ingenious than your suggestion, and I hope you may be able to prove it true. That is a splendid fact about the white moths; it warms one's very blood to see a theory thus almost proved to be true."

Mr. Wallace's suggestion was that conspicuous caterpillars or perfect insects (e.g. white butterflies), which are distasteful to birds, benefit by being promptly recognised and therefore easily avoided.[247]