1 May 1889

The moats and the alleys of chestnut trees are still not enough to confine my solitude. So my mind wanders and is nourished with the memories of encounters. One is the first major International Ornithology Congress in Vienna, which I had the honour of attending in 1884 and where I listened to the discussions of great scholars. All were agreed on the need to imagine legislation that could be set in stone to protect birds from excessive hunting. A man named Emile Oustalet recounted the following story, which still sends shivers down my spine. Over a three-year period in the 1860s, five ships were said to have killed more than 450,000 penguins for their oil and their skin. It would be a useful thing to proclaim such laws and make them unavoidable. But would my contemporaries be favourable to them? Alas, I have my doubts. Recent years have shown us more than once the extent to which birds, with their diet of insects, can be of assistance to humans. All of the pests, potato bugs and other cockchafers that swarm upon our crops would not be able to stand up to an army of winged allies of whom we, humans, would serve as the rear guard. When, therefore, can we hope for this great alliance to take shape? Would this not be the famous Progress, which, instead of railways and factories, we should strive for?