THE OYSTEE. 85 



and dyed with rainbow tints and a glorious opalescence, 

 which, be it as common as luxury has made it, still 

 charms the eye. This is the lining of the shell, the 

 mother-of-pearl, nacre. '' The inside of the shell," 

 said old Dampier — that old sailor mth a poet's mind — 

 **is more glorious even than the pearl itself." 



It is glorious; it has the look of the morning, and 

 the tint of the evening sky ; the colours of the prism 

 chastened, softened, retained, and made perpetual in 

 it : this is mother-o' -pearl. 



To render its bed always soft and cosy, to lie warm, 

 packed as one might at Malvern in wet sheets, seems 

 to be the oyster's pleasure. This singular exuvium, 

 this mucus, not only creates pleasure, but alleviates 

 pain. Some irritating substance, some internal worry 

 and annoyance, it may be a dead embryo, or a grain of 

 sand insinuates itself, and, lo ! the creature covers it 

 with this substance to ease off its unkind tooth, and 

 converts it into a pearl. 



That is the way they are made, these wondrous gems ! 

 And very beautiful is the thought that the most highly 

 prized of gems should be but the effect of a creature to 

 ease off a sorrow. Every one knows Shakspeare's won- 

 drously fine reflection upon the uses of sorrow and 

 adversity, which, 



" Like tlie toad, ugly and venomous, 

 Bears yet a precious jewel in its head." 



The precious jewel of the toad, which some critics and 

 commentators have endeavoured to prove its glitter- 

 ing eye, has long been exploded. Our old alchemists 



