The pearl is generally considered to be the emblem of innocence and purity. A pretty fashion in vogue among parents who can afford it, is of giving a pearl to each of their daughters on their birthdays. These are carefully matched and strung so that the string grows to a necklace for maturer years. Along with the emblematic idea and the fanciful notion of their origin, there comes to us from the old days a superstition concerning pearls which probably grew out of the statement that they were the congealed tears of heaven. It was supposed that they brought tears to their possessors. The idea originated probably about a thousand years ago in western Europe. It did not exist in Rome during the time of the Cæsars for the pearl was then the sign of power and affluence and was coveted by men and women alike and it remains a most popular gem in Italy to-day. This absurdity has been kept alive by stories of prominent persons in whose experience occurrences seemed to confirm the claim. The Queen of Henry IV. of France dreamt that her diamonds were turned to pearls the night previous to her husband's assassination by Ravaillac. The consort of James IV. of Scotland dreamt of pearls three nights in succession before the disastrous battle of Flodden Field in which he lost his life. These and similar stories which appeal to a love of the mysterious and wonderful have been perpetuated by writers of books, so that even to-day there are women who coveting pearls still fear to own them. But to be out of the fashion is more dreadful to women than tears, so it has come to pass that with the increasing vogue of the pearl, less is heard of the superstition and it is dying, not of age or the contempt of knowledge, but by the potency of fashion. A story already referred to in these pages, that has been current for over two thousand years during which time it has been mentioned by almost every writer about pearls, deserves, for its antiquity and absurdity, consideration here. It is of Cleopatra and the pearl worth upwards of three hundred thousand dollars she is said to have dissolved in wine to drink in costly fashion to her lover. This was, of course, impossible. She may, with the help of the wine have swallowed it like a pill or, as Sir Thomas Gresham did later, have ground it to powder and mixed it with the wine she drank, but to dissolve a pearl of great size as one of this value would be, was a conjurer's feat. The lime of which a pearl is chiefly composed will dissolve in acid, but the gem although softened, would remain a pulpy mass held by the organic matter interwoven throughout the strata of calcium carbonate. Whatever she really did, or in what form she swallowed the pearl, if she did so, Cleopatra and her pearl are better known to-day to the general public than either of her Roman lovers, and they will probably be handed down through many generations yet to come.