In all countries where woman has been enthroned in the respect as well as the affections of man, the pearl has been inseparably connected with her in his mind as a peculiarly fitting accompaniment to feminine loveliness. In the romantic dreams of youth, which hide betimes the harsh realism of life under a golden haze of imagery; where belted knights and fair ladies live and move unfettered, and all the impossible delights of sweet desire free from untoward consequences are reasonable; where invincible swords have no thought of the horrors of carnage, and unimpeded love is without cold calculation or following of sorrow, pearls everywhere shimmer.
And when in his exalted moods man paints the shadow picture of the goddess of his life, he finds one gem alone befitting with which to deck her, namely, the pearl. This has come to pass probably because the ideal qualities of woman and the sea-gem are alike, purity and modesty. The beauty of the most lustrous pearl is unobtrusive and its quality is virginal. In our visions of the spectral past, the shades of the consorts of the mighty all wear them.
Pearls hang pendent from the ears of Egypt's voluptuous queens, and Rome's proud matrons. Pearls clasp the dainty flesh of Moslem houris and rest in the soft folds of draperies that cling about those daughters of the Orient, the common mortals of their day might not look upon. Great pearls hang festooned and pendent round the necks of lightly draped Dianas of the warm south lands, and coiled about the brown arms of the daughters of the chiefs in far-off islands of the South Seas.
Upon reclining figures in the ancient palaces of Persia and Arab tents: wherever the proud women of the conquering occident move in stately measure across the high terraces of noble placement: in all dreams of fair women and brave men, are swords and pearls. And this is so because in all the ages, women of high position have loved pearls and writers have told it. In our old world so far, neither earth nor sea has yielded ought else so fit to lie in the bosom of woman, or to symbolize her character and beauty, as the chaste and dainty pearl.
This high atmosphere of precious supremacy and reverence, which surrounds the gem now as it has for more than twenty centuries, is a legacy of Rome. The east loved pearls as beautiful and precious trinkets; while Rome gave to them imperial honors and drew around them the mystic circle of patrician favor. And since that day, in every land where an aristocracy existed or came into existence, pearls have been the familiars of the exclusive.
This natural fitness of the gem for refined associations is recognized by Emerson in his "Friendship." He says:
It is a late echo of the scriptural saying, "Cast not your pearls before swine." No modern poet shows more knowledge of the nature, or a more just appreciation of the delicate beauty of the gem than Emerson. In his "May Day," speaking of the tardiness of the spring, he writes: "Slow grows the palm, too slow the pearl."
Evidently he knew of the slow process by which the successive coats of filmy nacre increase the size of the growing gem. Likewise a couplet in "Nature" betrays the poet's observation of the iridescent nature of the colors in mother-of-pearl, and in the gem occasionally when those fleeting tints are added to the beauty of its luster; the lines are a dainty illustration:
Some of the great poets, notably Tennyson, apparently confuse the gem with its mother-of-pearl, or refer to the latter only when they speak of pearl. In his "Recollections of the Arabian Nights," however, Tennyson in describing one of his beauties evidently refers to the gem:
Writing of the mermaid, the lines are more suggestive of the shell nacre:
Again in a sonnet, he evidently refers to mother-of-pearl when he says:
This indiscriminate use of the gem's name to appropriate its pearly characteristics is a common poetic license. In Ben Jonson's "Hymn to Diana," he bids her,
Sometimes metaphor is worse mixed, as when Milton in "Paradise Lost" describes the waters above the firmament about the gate of Heaven thus:
In this poem of gorgeous description, the author makes several allusions to the gem and some of them, especially those in his word paintings of scenes in Eden, are poetically beautiful and true. One delightful to the eye of the mind,
and another in the description of morning in Eden, equally beautiful though it takes more license:
In his "Epitaph on the Marchioness of Winchester," a couplet shows that he was familiar with the superstition of sorrow connected with them:
Herrick also associated pearls and tears though more happily as in "Corinna's Maying."
The same poet makes charming reference to pearls in his poem entitled: "To Daffodils."
Shakespeare made frequent reference to the gem, sometimes to illustrate the magnificence of wealth and station but more frequently in connection with dew and tears. Oberon says:
King Richard III. when he argues with Queen Elizabeth for her daughter's hand in marriage, promises with smooth and brazen villainy to so offset the wrongs he had done her, that:
In "King John" Elinor speaking to Constance of Arthur, says, "Draw those heaven moving pearls from his poor eyes;" and in "King Lear," one of the gentlemen, speaking of the Queen of France when she received the news he carried, describes her mood thus:
In "Midsummer Night's Dream," Lysander says to Helen:
Among his recognitions of pearls as a sign of the luxury of wealth and high position, he makes a lord say, in the "Taming of the Shrew,"
And in "King Henry V," the King while deploring the sorrows incident to kingship, says:
These two quotations indicate that the Roman custom of decorating robes and even the harness of horses with pearls was followed in Shakespeare's day by the nobles.
A line suggestive of the high-esteem in which the pearl was held in his day, and often quoted, occurs in Othello's grand but heart-broken self-denunciation just before he stabs himself:
It is evident also that stories were current then of the western Indian's ignorant prodigality in the disposition of things common to him but very precious among more enlightened people.
In "King Richard III," Duke Clarence sees in his dream of drowning, "Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl."
Several times the great dramatist puts the gem in somewhat grewsome setting. In "A Sea Dirge" however, the bare horror of the idea which grins at one in similar connections, is transformed by the poetry in which it is draped:
A favorite use of the sea-gem by the lighter poets is to adorn their images of physical beauty. In "Don Juan," Byron, describing one of the Turk's houris in the harem, says:
and another poet writes similarly:
Shelley confines his references to pearls almost entirely to descriptions of Nature dew-bedecked, as in the "Revolt of Islam,"
and another in "Prometheus Unbound" where the chorus of spirits sing:
In "Arethusa" he uses them to enhance the idea of regal magnificence in these lines:
The poets rarely refer to the gem as a symbol of spiritual attributes though it is peculiarly adapted by its natural qualities to illustrate purity, innocence, and other qualities of the human soul: nor is it often connected with religious ideas. Among the few, Andrew Marvell in his "Song of the Emigrants in Burmuda," avails himself of it somewhat prosaically thus,
One of the most poetically beautiful references ever made to the Ocean's modest jewel occurs in the "The Rosary" by Robert Cameron Rogers.
No poet has made more frequent allusion to pearls than Thomas Moore. His poems give evidence that he had read much of them in ancient writings and was alive to their poetic value. In his description of Ireland in "Fairest! Put on Awhile," the lines—
were founded on the statements of Nennius, a British writer of the IXth century, concerning Irish pearls. In passing, it is worthy of notice that Nennius recorded also that the princes of Ireland hung them behind their ears; a fashion similar to that of Persian and Athenian youth many centuries earlier. From Cardanus, Moore learned of the ancient fable that pearls were improved by leaving them awhile with doves, and utilizes the fancy in "A Dream of Antiquity" thus:
An early reference to the gem is found in his "Odes of Anacreon" No. XXII:
If this ode was really written by Anacreon, that poet must have been more familiar with pearls than some later Grecian writers. A similar idea quite as beautifully expressed occurs in "The Loves of the Angels."
Unlike most of the poets, Moore does not describe the sparkling dew-drop as pearly and his references to tears of pearls include the idea of metamorphosis, as in "The Light of the Haram."
These lines embody the ancient Hindu superstition which is also apparent in his "Lines to—:"
In his adoration of female beauty, he often holds the lustrous gem as a foil to the exceeding charms of woman, or to lift her to higher esteem by holding her, for preciousness, above the gem. Beyond all other things most lovely, only woman was lovelier yet. In "To weave a Garland for the Rose," he writes:
And in one of the "Odes to Nea," he expresses the jealous regard of love thus:
Of the threads in which the woof of "The Genius of Harmony" is woven, there is one that sings thus to the passing of the shuttle:
Betraying as he did so frequently in his poems, such a high regard for the pearl, it is somewhat curious that the gem was used descriptively in connection with himself. N. P. Willis, describing Thomas Moore as he met him at Lady Blessington's said of him, "His forehead shines with the lustre and smooth polish of a pearl."
Schiller takes the gem from the warm touch of human sentiment and builds it into a grand conception, poetical but untrue to Nature. In common with other poets, he credits the pearl with a play of color seldom found even to a limited degree though it does occur in the mother-of-pearl. In "Parables and Riddles," he describes the rainbow thus:
In "The Celebrated Woman" he alludes twice to pearls; once when the husband, bemoaning the passage of his choice vintages down the throats of unappreciative celebrities, realizes that the only reward from his spouse for his endurance of it is, "sour looks—deep sighs." Because he has no stomach for her notables and their wit, she regrets—
Later on the husband refers satirically to the meeting of "learned Dons and folks of fashion" at their resorts, where he says:
Few later writers have set the pearl in as wide a range of ideas or in language as beautiful as Edmund Spenser. The tears of Stella in "The Mourning Muse of Thestylis" are more precious and gem-like than those in any lines which have followed until now. In these lines they are priceless jewels royally set.
As a means to wake imagination to the physical charms of woman his use of the gem is equally happy and graceful, for there is always a soul in the flesh of his beauty as when he depicts the charms of a fair one in one of his "Sonnets."
In another place he expresses the worship of his love in this fashion:
Several of his poems show the fashion of pearls in his day as for instance where he describes the Scarlet Lady in "The Faerie Queene" as—
and Hymen in "Epithalamion"—
There is a passing breath of spice-laden gales and the wonder magic of ships in far-off seas, carrying to perils and adventure men seeking the treasures of strange lands, while he tells in Virgil's Gnat of the shepherd's content:
Poets are reminded not only of the teeth and neck of beauty by the luster of the pearl but of the forehead also. Whittier like Tennyson gives to woman a brow of pearl. In "Memories" the girl has—
and in "Stanzas," he places the beauty of flesh above that of the dainty jewel thus:
Similarly Heinrich Heine in Longfellow's translation of "The Sea hath its Pearls" says:
Probably in no poem is the pearl referred to so frequently or with so wide significance as in Whittier's "The Vaudois Teacher." The missionary in his guise of peddler having obtained an audience with the fair chatelaine, while extolling his wares, says:
Naturally, this wisdom of the serpent with which his innocence was garnished brought favorable response:
After she had bought of his trinkets, the old teacher carefully introduces the covered object of his visit.
This statement at once arouses a keen interest, for in those days great gems came from unexpected sources and by unlikely hands and coming seldom, excited desire to an extent unknown in these abundant times. Glancing at the mirrored pearls in her own hair the lady says:
Here is the golden opportunity of the zealot. From its place of concealment beneath the tempting wares in his pack he takes a shabby little book and gives it to her saying:
Nor does the religious mind of Whittier fail to remember the gates of pearl, for in "Ego" he speaks of
Carlyle makes reference to the gem in a line greater in conception and more poetic than most of those which occur in the rhymes of the poets—"She died in beauty, like a pearl dropped from some diadem."
In Ruffini's "Dr. Antonio," man and woman are set in marriage as a foil and complement of each other though the metaphor shows some misunderstanding of the qualities of gems, for black diamonds are not as fiery as others. The lines are:
The fiery black diamond casting lustre over the Oriental pearl: the Oriental pearl in return lending softness to the black diamond.
Dryden does not forget pearls when he caparisons the royal mighty and in "Palamon and Arcite" fitly thus describes Emetrius, King of Inde:
It is remarkable that so many poets have seen in the pearl a simile for raindrops and dew. Among them, Browning in the song from "Pippa Passes," sees—
At its best, the pearl is not luminous, neither does it flash nor sparkle: the quality of it is softly lustrous as of light that smolders; but transferring by imagery the mist-white texture of dew when it is spread over leaf and grass blade, to the transparent dew-drop, poets see in the sparkling globule, which in the sun is of diamantine brilliancy, a simile of the pearl.
In "By the Fireside" however, Browning creates a rain of pearls, a truer figure than pearly raindrops:
The metaphors of Lowell are more true to the nature of the pearl and its characteristics than those of many poets. One, seldom used though most appropriate, occurs in "The First Snow Fall."
Another instance of combined truth and poetry may be found in "An Invitation":
And in "Pictures from Appledore" the same poet in the embodiment of a delightful idea in words says of the moon:
In these illustrations, imagination is true to nature on either hand, for the beady ridges of the half melted or frozen snow on the tree twigs, the soft luster of a white cloud dome and the pale round moon, alike are characterized by beauties which are pearly. In his more involved metaphor the same nice avoidance of incongruity is noticeable. Though raindrops are not pearly, the white fringe of a shore-driven wave is, which he notes in "Sea-Weed":
There is a hint of Cleopatra and Sir Thomas Gresham in his lines "To H. W. L."
and in the lines from "Memoria Positum" there is an understanding of the processes by which the gem grows:
and in the poetic fancy in "A Familiar Epistle to a Friend"—
Nor does he omit the time-honored custom of poets to place the gem among the chief jewels of the great and in the mouth of beauty, for in "The Singing Leaves" he makes the King's eldest daughter ask of her royal father when he journeys:
and in "A Fable for Critics" he says:
Bryant does not often allude to pearls, but in two instances, both in "The Flood of Years," they appear in beautiful setting. In the first:
Later on, describing the ocean of the past, he sees—
The general use of pearls in the barbaric splendor of the great in the days of Rome and Egypt and Persia, appears in Tasso's "Jerusalem Delivered." In the wizard's dwelling:
and,
and also,
In the review of the oriental hordes, Armida's car is thus described,
Among those who passed the Egyptian prince, were:
The name of the gem is used in rare fashion in picturing the enchanted wood through which Rinaldo wanders:
And twice does the sweat of the human face become pearly in the poet's imagination: once when Armida watches Rinaldo sleeping:
In the second instance, speaking of Armida, the poet says:
Thomson sees pearls only in the dew-impearled earth, and one must admit, after looking upon the liquid globules hanging in rows from the spreading twigs of trees before the morning sun has found them in their shaded quarters, that the pendent spheres are suggestive, and that the poet's eye needs but little assistance from imagination to see in them the soft round gems of the ocean.
In all ages, prose and fiction have treated of pearls as a form of exceeding preciousness and a chief evidence of high station and barbaric splendor. The lute of poetry has held few additional strings. Modern writers have added little to the imaginations of the ancients. All the changes made by successive poets have been rung on the tears, dew-drops, and beauty's teeth, handed down from long ago.
The wide ranges of the pearl's modest worth, exalted purity, and singular beauty, yet remain to illustrate the thoughts of future genius. Imagination has not yet brooded often over the humble and distorted creatures, whose gnarled and twisted forms, lying among their myriad shapely brethren are evidence of a precious sacrifice of self to leave a heritage of beauty; nor dreamed of the silent acres under turbulent waters where the gem, one day to adorn the neck of beauty or the diadem of royalty, is reared. What play for imagination lies between the birth of this creation of one of the humblest of Earth's creatures, and the high placement to which it rises as soon as it is discovered.
There are deserted wastes of sand and water under torrid skies, populated almost momentarily with teeming multitudes whose jargon fills the former silences with a world wide medley of tongues. As in a dream, the tremulous air is stirred by the struggling movement of naked slaves, turbanned orientals, men from all lands of the occident, the moving throng weaving constantly new patterns from the variegated colors and fantastic costumes of living threads. And everywhere, beneath the prosaic motion of labor and trading, is the quiver of hope, the excitement of the gambler; the poetry of human passions, unseen, but felt.
There are in unfrequented seas, where some lonely atoll draws its circle round a still lagoon, treasures greater than its cargo and the stately ship sailing heedless by. So like the undiscovered pearls of the ocean's bed, the universe holds an exhaustless store of thoughts and truths for those who come after the discoverers of this age. Thought runs in grooves and the grooves outlast many generations; scarcely in a cycle does one look over the ridge and find a species foreign to the rut.
Within the walls which the past builds for the present it is more easy to adopt than to bring forth, and so the ancient metaphors, age after age, are with some changes of raiment thrown back upon the world again. But in this new era of acquisition, while this sea-gem is again lifted to the serene heights of most exalted favor, perhaps it will not only shine upon the persons of the fair, but adorn, in simile and metaphor as beautiful as the old, the pages of romance and poetry.