Works of Grant Allen
Page 1050
2 St. John Street, Oxford, Feb. 6,’78.
Dear Sir, — May I introduce myself to you as the author of a small work on ‘Physiological Æsthetics,’ and a contributor, amongst other periodicals, to the ‘Cornhill Magazine’? I usually write articles of a simple scientific sort— ‘Carving a Coconut,’ ‘Analysis of an Obelisk,’ ‘Dissecting a Daisy,’ are the contributions of mine to the ‘Cornhill’ — but I have a few lighter pieces by me which I am anxious to insert in some popular magazine. One of these, ‘An Epicurean Tour,’ describing in an easy, chatty way, with copious digressions, the various good things which I found during a trip to America, I should be glad to forward to you for consideration, if you thought it at all likely to suit your wants. I do not send it herewith, because I know most casual volunteer contributions are little secure of a reading amid the many duties of editorial life. — Yours faithfully,
GRANT ALLEN.
It is needless to burden a brief memoir with letters of more or less the same tenor, and it suffices to note that this offer led to the pleasant results indicated in the tribute paid by author to publisher. The summer of 1878 found Allen again at Lyme Regis, where Jerrard Grant, his only child, was born in July. Meanwhile, from the time of his stay in Edinburgh, he had filled intervals of leisure in preparing another book which was an expansion of materials collected for a chapter on the ‘Genesis of Æsthetics’ in its predecessor. It was entitled ‘The Colour Sense: its Origin and Development; an Essay in Comparative Psychology,’ and was published, in Trubner’s ‘English and Foreign Philosophical Library,’ in 1879. The terms were ‘half-profits,’ a system the charm of which Douglas Jerrold said lies in its leading to no ‘division’ between authors and publishers. At the end of ten years the book had resulted in a total payment of something under £30 to its writer, who sarcastically remarks thereupon, ‘As it took me only eighteen months, and involved little more than five or six thousand references, this result may be regarded as very fair pay for an educated man’s time and labour, and should warrant the reproach of thoughtless critics for deserting the noble pursuit of science in favour of fiction and filthy lucre.’ Briefly stated, the design of the book is to show that the colour sense in man is no recent acquisition, but derived by him from his fruiteating ancestors, who, by exercise of the sense of vision upon bright-coloured food stuffs, developed a special nervous organisation capable of discriminating between the various shades of colour. In one chapter Allen applied his rare gift of lucid exposition to interpretation of the fascinating theory of flower - fertilisation, and modification of form and colour by insects, which was suggested by Sprengel, and elaborated by Hermann Müller and others. ‘The colour, sense of bees and butterflies has metamorphosed the world, and we must seek for its indications on every plain and mountain of every country in the earth’ (p. 94). Following the story of interaction between plant and animal to the human period, Allen effected an easy conquest over the Teutonic theories of development of the colour sense within historical epochs. These theories were supported, on purely philological grounds, by Mr. Gladstone, and others equally conservative, who welcomed and backed arguments, good, bad, or indifferent, against the inclusion of man, ‘body, soul, and spirit,’ as a product of evolution.
Among the letters which the book evoked, the following, from the pen of the distinguished co-formulator with Darwin of the theory of the origin of species, has chief interest: —
Waldron Edge, Duppers Hill,
Croydon, Feb. 17th, 1879.
Dear Sir, — Very many thanks for your book on ‘The Colour Sense,’ I have just finished reading it through, and I have seldom read a book with more pleasure. It is full of original and suggestive matter, and is admirable in its clearness and the thorough manner in which many aspects of the subject are discussed.
Of course, I totally dissent from your adoption of ‘sexual selection ‘as a’vera causa,’ though of course you are quite justified in following Darwin rather than me as an authority. I think you overstrain many parts of your argument, especially the connection of bright colours in animals with the colours of the food. I also think you lay far too great stress on our knowledge of the first appearance of certain groups of plants and insects; but I shall probably deal with these questions in a notice I may write of your book.
I must say I do not see the least force in what you say as to the probable ‘identity’ of colour sense in ‘ourselves’ and ‘insects.’ For it is clear that the optical organs of these two have been developed ‘separately’; and if the sensations were ‘alike,’ it would be a ‘coincidence’ which we have no reason to expect. The fact that insects differentiate most of the contrasted colours by no means proves, or even affords any probability, that their ‘sensations’ are anything ‘like’ ours, and I still maintain that the probability is they are ‘unlike.’ With ‘birds’ and ourselves, on the contrary, we may be almost sure the sensations are similar, because our eyes and nervous systems are derived probably from a common ancestor who had both well fairly developed.
A day or two ago, I received from a gentleman residing in Germany a very clever article on the ‘Origin of the Colour Sense,’ in which he shows physiological grounds for the belief in the great inferiority of the colour sense in all mammals, and the inferiority even of ourselves to birds.
I am very sorry you did not put a good index to your book. It is most difficult to find any special point you want, and causes endless trouble. I feel so strongly on this that I think the publication of Indexless books should be ‘felony’ without benefit of Clergy I [Compare with this mild penalty that suggested — was it not by Carlyle? — to send the felon who makes no index to his book a couple of miles the other side of hell, where the devil can’t reach him for the stinging nettles. — E. C.]
I need not wish your book success, for it is sure to be successful, as it well deserves to be. — Yours very faithfully,
ALFRED R. WALLACE.
P.S. — In my original paper in ‘Macmillan’s Magazine’ [September 1877], I spoke doubtfully about the prehistoric want of colour sense, because the subject came upon me suddenly just as I had finished my paper. I still think, however, that ‘colour blindness’ is an indication of imperfection, and I hope evidence will soon be obtained as to its equal prevalence or absence in some semi-civilised race. I doubt its being a product of civilisation, since civilised man makes more use of colour than savage man. It is an interesting and important question. — A. R. W.
In an undated letter (why will people omit a stroke or two, the absence of which— ‘experto crede’ — often causes hours to be spent in arranging correspondence? Allen was a great sinner in this line), presumably referring to the ‘Colour Sense,’ Darwin says: ‘I have read the whole of your book with “great interest.” It contains very many views new to me, and highly ingenious, and some new facts.
‘I am glad that you defend sexual selection: I have no fear about its ultimate fate, though now at a discount Wallace’s explanation of, for instance, the display of a Peacock seems to me mere empty words.’ The tribute paid by Darwin, Spencer, and Wallace to Allen’s original contributions to theories which he popularised is sufficing answer to some critics who, let it be hoped, through imperfect acquaintance with his work, accord him no higher level than that of a skilful scientific middle-man. That his modesty claimed only this as his function is the greater warrant for crediting him with the independent collection of facts whose value was recognised by the founders of the doctrine of Evolution. In the preface to the ‘Colour Sense’ he says ‘One of the main necessities of science at the present day is the existence of that organising class whose want was pointed out by Comte, and has been further noted by Mr. Herbert Spencer. To this class I would aspire, in a humble capacity, to belong. But the organising student cannot also himself be a specialist in all the sciences whose results he endeavours to co-ordinate; and he must, therefore, depend for his data upon the original work of others. If specialists find technical errors in such co-ordina
ted results, they should point them out frankly for correction and improvement, but they should not regard them as fit subjects for carping criticism.’ In this connection, it is not out of place to quote what the late Sir Fitzjames Stephen says in reference to Gibbon’s ‘Decline and Fall’: ‘The slight importance of the mistakes which have been discovered in it, shows with what judgement he availed himself of the researches of others. If it is a reproach to use them, it is difficult to see what is the use of making them’ (‘Horae Sabbaticæ,’ ii p. 390). And, in fact, the service rendered by a skilful and accurate expositor is not to be lightly underrated in these days of specialisation in every branch, and in all the minutiae of science, with its resulting obscuration of the interrelation between all departments of knowledge, and blurring of the sense of unity and continuity.
Although ‘The Colours of Flowers as Illustrated in the British Flora,’ and ‘Flowers and their Pedigrees,’ were not published until some few years after ‘The Colour Sense,’ the development of certain theories in them which could be only hinted at in that book warrants reference to them at this point, and, moreover, they further substantiate the claim made on behalf of Allen’s original work, notably in botany. In this matter it is a privilege to be able to quote the weighty testimony of Dr. Sydney H. Vines, Sherardian Professor of Botany in the University of Oxford, who in kindest response to my request has sent me the following memorandum
‘In his botanical works — of which the most important are “The Colours of Flowers” (1882) and “Flowers and their Pedigrees.”
(1886) — Grant Allen showed that he possessed in a high degree the qualities which go to make the true naturalist. Every page gives evidence of his exceptional power of accurate observation, which made him the first-rate field-botanist that he undoubtedly was. But he was much more than this. His observations in the field were but the raw material upon which his eager and well-trained intelligence proceeded to work. Each fact at once raised the question of how? and why? so that the careful study of a single common flower suggested various more or less complicated problems, to which he sought the solutions with no small degree of success.
‘To take one or two illustrative instances. In studying the colours of flowers, he was led, naturally enough, to consider the question of the origin, the phytogeny, of the petals. The prevalent view at the time, based mainly on Goethe’s theory of metamorphosis, was that the floral leaves were to be traced back to the foliage leaves; in other words, that metamorphosis in the leaves had followed an ascending course; though it was recognised, even by Goethe himself, that descending metamorphosis — that is, the conversion of the more highly specialised floral leaves into others of simpler nature — might and did actually occur. The evidence for this view is that, as a rule, the vegetative precede the reproductive organs in ontogenesis. The conclusion at which Grant Allen arrived, and which he calls “heretical,” was quite the opposite of this. Basing himself upon the weighty phylogenetic evidence, that the most ancient flowers, e g those of the Gymnosperms, have only reproductive leaves and no perianth-leaves, he asserted that the latter must have been derived from the former; that the petal, for example, is a degenerate or sterilised stamen. Subsequent writers, though apparently without any knowledge of Grant Allen’s work have confirmed and extended his line Prantl (1888), with special reference to the Ranunculaceæ, and Professor Bower (1894), with special reference to the higher Cryptogams, in a manner which is tending to profoundly modify our morphological conceptions, though the subject is still under discussion.
‘Another deeply interesting conclusion to which he was led by the study of our commonest flower is “that the Daisy-group, including these other composites with tinted rays, forms the very head and crown of the vegetable creation.” Whilst it is true that this view had been already expressed, especially by French botanists, there is no reason to doubt that Grant Allen arrived at it by the force of his own remarkable insight.
‘It would be easy to multiply instances of this kind were it necessary. Suffice it to say that the essential characteristics of Grant Allen’s botanical work are his adherence to the phylogenetic method, and his appreciation of the importance of a careful study of the relation of each kind of plant to its environment. It is interesting to observe that much of the progress of the science, since he wrote, has been made along just these two lines. The pursuit of the phylogenetic method has led, and is still leading, to a more adequate comprehension of the affinities of the larger groups of plants;. whilst the study of the relation of the plant to its environment — under the name of oecology or phytonomics — has grown to be almost a science in itself.
‘It seems natural to regret that, owing to the force of circumstances, Grant Allen was not in a position to devote his powers exclusively to the science for which he displayed such singular aptitude. But it is possible that, in the guise of set scientific papers, the exposition of his views would have lost much of that irresistible charm with which his actual popular style of presentation is endowed. One cause for regret undoubtedly remains; and that is that he was not able to fulfil the promise made in the preface to “Flowers and their Pedigrees,” that he would write a “Functional Companion to the British Flora.’”
To the theory that petals have generally been formed from the expanded filaments of stamens, Allen added an ingenious speculation on the original colour of the earliest flowers. The fact that the stamens of flowers of the simplest, and therefore more primitive, type, are yellow, led him to the inference that the earliest flowers derived from them were yellow also. It was shown that the changes in the colours of flowers, which are of course chemically induced, take place in regular order, e g yellow flowers becoming white or pink, and then passing through red and purple to blue, this order being without exception and never reversed. In acknowledging a ‘Cornhill’ article on the subject, Darwin wrote: ‘Many years ago I thought it highly probable that petals were in all cases transformed stamens. I forget (excepting the water-lily) what made me think so; but I am sure that your evolutionary argument never occurred to me, as it is too striking and apparently valid ever to be forgotten. I cannot help doubting about petals being naturally yellow: I speak only from vague memory, but I think that the filaments are generally white, or almost white, and surely it is the filament which is developed into the petal. I remember some purple and bright yellow filaments, but these seemed to me to serve by adding colour to the white flower. Is it not the pollen alone which renders most stamens yellow at a cursory glance? Many thanks for the pleasure which your article has given me.’
Darwin, ever generous in recognition of the contributions made by others to the strengthening of his theory, not only gratified Allen by a presentation copy of the ‘Origin of Species,’ which was, of course, accorded the place of honour on his well-filled ‘ex dono auctorum’ shelf, but subscribed towards the gift of a microscope with which a group of scientific friends made him happy.
Such encouragement was as welcome as it was deserved, for Allen was soon to have the lesson that man cannot live by science alone reinforced. Back in London in 1879, he joined the staff of the ‘Daily News.’ The information he had gained when preparing articles for the ‘Indian Gazetteer,’ served him in good stead for leader-writing on the Afghan campaign. But the strain and the late hours which work on a daily paper involved told on his always precarious health, and he accepted with relief the lighter demands of weekly journalism, becoming a principal contributor to ‘London.’ Andrew Lang, Robert Louis Stevenson, and other coming men were on the staff of that brilliant paper. However, as this letter to Mr. Nicholson tells, that channel of support soon dried: —
22 Bonchurch Road, North Kensington, W.
April 39,’79.
.. I write now to ask whether you happen to know of any work that I could do. As far as recognition goes, I am doing very well — this week I have got into the fortnightly,’ and I am going soon to give a Friday evening at the Royal Institution. But I cannot make money enough to keep us a
float. It strikes me you may possibly know of some literary hackwork — index-making, cataloguing, compiling, or anything of that sort — which I should be very glad to do. To tell you the truth, I am very hard up for employment, as the little weekly paper on which I used to work, ‘London,’ has come to grief, and I can find nothing to replace it. I am ready to turn my hand to anything, if only it can be got. Can you help me by any suggestion? — Yours very sincerely,
GRANT ALLEN.
This letter, touching in its subdued ‘de profundis’ note, with never a word of complaint or querulousness, may perhaps suffice as a quietly rebukeful answer to the remark heard ever and anon, ‘What a pity Grant Allen took to novel-writing!’ Yes; ‘the pity of it.’ An article here and there at uncertain intervals, while the calls of the landlord, the butcher, and the baker, and, unfortunately, the doctor too, were not uncertain. A gratuitous lecture before a well-dined audience, heedless whether the lecturer went back to Grub Street, or ‘No Grub’ Street — why this wonder that he ‘took the downward path that leads to fiction’?
Some miscellaneous work which Mr. Nicholson, who was then librarian of the London Institution, was able to offer, varied by a trip to Guernsey to examine a school there, helped to carry Allen along till the autumn of 1879. But bronchial and other troubles made it necessary that he should winter abroad, and consequently he left Lyme Regis for Hyères, where he remained till May 1880, working, as health permitted, at articles for various magazines.