

THE NIGHTINGALE. 

 ART AND THE INFINITE. 



THE celebrated Pre'-aux-Clercs, now known as the 

 Marche Saint Germain, is, as everybody knows, on Sundays, 

 the Bird Market of Paris. The place has more than one 

 claim on our curiosity. It is a vast menagerie, frequently 

 renewed a shifting, strange museum of French ornithology. 

 On the other hand, such an auction of living beings, 

 of captives many of whom feel their captivity, of slaves 

 whom the auctioneer exposes, sells, and values more or less 

 adroitly, indirectly reminds one, after all, of the markets of 

 the East, the auctions of human slaves. The winged 

 slaves, without understanding our languages, do not the 

 less vividly express the thought of servitude ; some, born in 

 ^ this condition, are resigned to it; others, sombre and silent, 

 dream ever of freedom. Not a few appear to address themselves to 

 you, seem desirous of arresting the passer-by's attention, and ask only 

 for a good master. How often have we seen an intelligent goldfinch, 

 an amiable robin, regarding us with a mournful gaze, but a gaze by 

 no means doubtful in its meaning, for it said : "Buy me !" 



