Wallace was a seeker after Truth who was never shy of his august mistress, whatever robes she wore. "I feel within me," wrote Darwin to Henslow, "an instinct for truth, or knowledge, or discovery, of something of the same nature as the instinct of virtue." This was equally true of Wallace. He had a fine reverence for truth, beauty and love, and he feared not to expose error. He paid no respect to time-honoured practices and opinions if he believed them to be false. Vaccination came under his searching criticism, and in the face of nearly the whole medical faculty he denounced it as quackery condemned by the very evidence used to defend it. He very carefully examined the claims of phrenology, which had been laughed out of court by scientific men, and he came to the conclusion that "in the present (twentieth) century phrenology will assuredly attain general acceptance. It will prove itself to be the true science of the mind. Its practical uses in education, in self-discipline, in the reformatory treatment of criminals, and in the remedial treatment of the insane, will gain it one of the highest places in the hierarchy of the sciences; and its persistent neglect and obloquy during the last sixty years of the nineteenth century will be referred to as an example of the almost incredible narrowness and prejudice which prevailed among men of science at the very time they were making such splendid advances in other fields of thought and discovery."[67] Wallace was not even scared out of his wits by ghosts, for, unlike Coleridge, he believed in them although he thought he had seen many. Whether truth came from the scaffold or the throne, the seance or the sky, it did not alter the truth, and did not prejudice or overbear his judgment. He shed his early materialism (which temporarily took possession of him as it did of many others as a result of the shock following the overwhelming discoveries of that period) when he was brought face to face with the phenomena of the spiritual kingdom which withstood the searching test of his keen observation and reasoning powers. Prejudices, preconceived notions, respect for his scientific position or the opinions of his eminent friends or the reputation of the learned societies to which he belonged--all were quietly and firmly put aside when he saw what he recognised to be the truth. If his fellow-workers did not accept it, so much the worse for them. He stood four-square against the onslaught of quasi-scientific rationalism, which once threatened to obliterate all the ancient landmarks of morality and religion alike. He made mistakes, and he admitted and corrected them, because he verily loved Truth for her own sake. And to the very end of his long life he kept the windows of his soul wide open to what he believed to be the light of this and other worlds.