It is a well-known gem found in several shell-fish, such as the common
mussel and the oyster. How it came to be there was long a puzzle to
man. In ancient times they imagined it was formed from the dew of
heaven. The sparkling dewdrops and the shining pearls were so like each
other that they adopted the beautiful fancy that the pearl was begotten
from the dew. To explain the shining lustre of the gem this other
detail was added, that just at the moment when the conception was taking
place there was a vivid flash of lightning, and the pearl caught
something of the fiery gleam. All these fancies are read together by
one ancient writer, when he says regarding the pearl of great price,
"This Pearl is Jesus, whom the virgin conceived from the divine
lightning."
But all this, of course, is pure fancy. A pearl is not formed from the
dew, and still less is its lustre derived from the lightning. Science
would describe it as the result of an accident. It is "an _accidental_
concretion of shelly matter deposited within the shell of certain
mollusca." If you open an oyster-shell you find the inside of _it_ all
covered over with a bright smooth covering of shelly matter. This is
laid on in innumerable layers, the one above the other, and the thinner
and more transparent the layers, the more perfect is the lustre. Now,
if any hard substance like a grain of sand gets inside the shell, this
shelly matter begins to gather round it, coat after coat, which harden
as they gather, until the pearl is fully formed. It is said the Chinese
take advantage of this fact to get the little creatures to make
imitation pearls. They insert round pellets between the valves of the
mussel, and in a short time the creature deposits a coating of this
pearly substance upon them, and they can scarcely be detected from true
pearls.
A pearl, then, is a grain of sand transformed into a precious gem. It
began as a kind of thorn in the flesh, and ended in a jewel so valuable
that thousands of pounds cannot buy it. The unwelcome intruder was
really an angel in disguise. The pain became a pearl.
And do not all human pearls come in the same way? Is there any gain
without pain? or is there any perfection without the fire of suffering?
No. The fruit-tree does not flourish apart from the pruning-knife, and
the fruit is not ripened apart from the scorching heat of the sun. Iron
is not hammered into shape until it has been thrust into the furnace,
and character does not glisten like a gem until it has been polished by
the lapidary. And thus we find the poets saying that they learn in
suffering what they teach in song; and the young people will not forget
that even Jesus--the Pearl of great price--was made "perfect through
sufferings" (Heb. ii. 10). So that Carlyle was well within the mark when
he wrote: "Thought, true labour of any kind, highest virtue itself, is
it not the daughter of pain?" Yes, every thorn may be a blessing in
disguise. Every pain may become a pearl.
There is one gem in the character of Jesus that all you young people
would do well to imitate. I mean the _pearl of obedience_. Though He
knew that God was His Father, and the temple was His Father's house, He
went down to Nazareth with Joseph and Mary, and was "_subject unto
them_." That was the keynote of His life. To obey was better than
sacrifice; and even at the tragic close He was "obedient unto death."
Is that the ornament, children, with which you are trying to adorn your
character? Are you in loving subjection to your parents on earth, and
are you learning to be in subjection to your Father in heaven? That can
only be obtained in one way--the way Jesus won it--the way of
self-sacrifice and self-denial. Every pearl is the product of a pain.
Jesus _learned obedience_ by the things which He _suffered_ (Heb. v. 8).