The first of these removals took place in 1870. A little earlier, a minister who has left a lasting memory in the university, that fine man Victor Duruy, [85] had instituted classes for the secondary education of girls. This was the beginning, as far as was then possible, of the burning question of to-day. I very gladly lent my humble aid to this labour of light. I was put to teach physical and natural science. I had faith, and was not sparing of work, with the result that I rarely faced a more attentive or interested audience. The days on which the lessons fell were red-letter days, especially when the lesson was botany and the table disappeared from view under the treasures of the neighbouring conservatories. That was going too far. In fact, you can see how heinous my crime was: I taught those young persons what air and water are; whence the lightning comes and the thunder; by what device our thoughts are transmitted across the seas and continents by means of a metal wire; why fire burns and why we breathe; how a seed puts forth shoots and how a flower blossoms: all eminently hateful things in the eyes of some people, whose feeble eyes are dazzled by the light of day. The little lamp must be put out as quickly as possible and measures taken to get rid of the officious person who strove to keep it alight. The scheme was darkly plotted with the old maids who owned my house and who saw the abomination of desolation in these new educational methods. I had no written agreement to protect me. The bailiff appeared with a notice on stamped paper. It baldly informed me that I must move out within four weeks from date, failing which the law would turn my goods and chattels into the street. I had hurriedly to provide myself with a dwelling. The first house which we found happened to be at Orange. Thus was my exodus from Avignon effected. [86] After this we understand why it was that Fabre cried: “It is all over; the downfall of my hopes is complete!” But no, beloved master! All was not over. The immortal work with which your name is connected was as yet to be begun. This ruin, this mortification, this grievous overthrow of all your hopes in connection with the University were even needed to lead you back to the fields, to enable you to raise, in all its amplitude and its exquisite originality, the scientific edifice of which you may say, with the ancient poet: Exegi monumentum aere perennis. [87] M. Edmond Perrier very judiciously remarked, in his speech at Sérignan: “In Paris, in a great city, you would have had great difficulty in finding your beloved insects, and entomology would have lost a great part of those magnificent observations which are the glory of French science.”