As illustrative of the pleasing style of Mr. Parkinson's work, I subjoin an abstract of the chapter, On the Pleasure and Advantages of a Knowledge of Fossil Remains. The epistolary style was adopted; and the first letter is supposed to be penned by a friend desirous of learning the nature of certain fossils he had observed on his journey to Oxford:—
"I have lived long enough to witness many sad disappointments to the fond dreams of happiness indulged by persons who, only intent on the acquisition of riches, had neglected to cultivate any intellectual or ennobling pursuit; so that on retiring from active life, they were unable to enjoy the leisure so dearly earned by years of anxiety and care, and either relapsed into a state of miserable ennui, or gave themselves up to the excitement of frivolous or vicious indulgences.
"Aware of the necessity of devoting the few leisure hours, which the duties of my calling left at my disposal, to some rational and amusing occupation, I have always cultivated, more or less assiduously, some branch of art or science, and thence acquired an enthusiastic admiration for the beauties of nature, and an insatiable curiosity to pry into the mysteries of the natural world. With this state of mind, I have at length resolved to avail myself of the means my little fortune affords me to indulge those feelings, and have, I trust, quitted the busy scenes of the world for ever.
"In pursuance of a plan long entertained of visiting the most interesting parts of our island, I left London last week, accompanied by my daughter, and our old friend, Frank Wilton, whose lively disposition and agreeable manners render him, as you well know, an excellent companion. But he has made himself most acceptable to us on another account;—his resolute scepticism with respect to the more rational, and his submissive credulity as to the popular and traditional explanations of such natural phenomena as are beyond his comprehension, are frequently productive of remarks so quaint and humorous, as to contribute in no small degree to our enjoyment.
"Ere our first day's journey was completed, I discovered how insufficient was the knowledge I possessed to enable me to form even a conjecture, as to the nature of the very first objects which particularly arrested our attention. We were within a few miles of Oxford, when Wilton, looking out of the carriage window, exclaimed, 'Bless me! never before did I see roads mended with such materials!' This, of course, drew my attention to what had so strongly excited his wonder; and I must confess that my astonishment was but little less than his own; for I beheld a labourer with a large hammer breaking to pieces a nearly circular ornamented stone, half as large as the fore-wheel of our carriage, and resembling in form a coiled-up serpent, or snake. We instantly stopped the chaise, and inquired of the man the name of the stone, and where it came from. 'This, Sir,' he replied, 'is a snake-stone, and comes from yonder quarry, where there are thousands of them.' Upon hearing this, we all alighted, and with surprise examined some of the unbroken stones, which, though evidently bearing the form of an unknown animal, were composed of solid rock. As we sauntered along, the carriage following us, we came to a neat building on the road-side, which a sign in the hedge opposite denoted to be a house of public entertainment. Hoping to gain more satisfactory information respecting the objects that had so much excited our curiosity, we entered this literally hedge ale-house, and on being shown into a neat room, the casement of which, surrounded by roses and honeysuckles in full bloom, opened into a garden redolent with fragrance and beauty, from the wild profusion of its flowers and shrubs, we determined to rest awhile, and partake of such refreshment as the cottage might afford. While these were preparing, Frank Wilton, whose restless curiosity leaves nothing unobserved, was examining the contents of the old oaken mantel-shelf, and suddenly cried out, 'Well! if the object of travelling is to behold novelties and wonders, surely this county will afford that gratification in the highest degree; for among the curious things on this mantel-piece, there is not one of which I have ever seen its like before.' The articles now passed under my examination, and with no better success; for I had never observed anything similar, nor could I form a rational conjecture respecting their nature.
"While thus engaged, our landlady made her appearance, and from her we learnt that this was her collection of curiosities, gathered from the neighbouring country; and she readily imparted to us all she knew of the subject. Taking up one of the stones, which resembled those we had seen on the road,—'This,' she said, 'is a petrified snake, with which this neighbourhood abounds. These were once fairies that inhabited these parts, and, for their crimes, were turned first into snakes, and then into stones. Here'—showing a stone of a conical form—'is one of the fairies' night-caps,[6] now also become stone.' 'Do, madam,' addressing Emma, 'pray observe this pattern; is it possible lace-work like this should ever have been worked by human hands? This—and this—are pieces of bones of giants, who lived here after the fairies were destroyed.' These bones, she informed us, were frequently dug up in several parts of the county, as well as innumerable thunderbolts,[7] some of which she also showed us, affirming that they were the very thunderbolts by which the giants were in their turn annihilated.
[6] A Cidaris, or turban-echinite; see [Plate LIII].
[7] Belemnites, popularly termed "thunderbolts," [Plate LIX].
"We all listened attentively to this discourse, and on my smiling, when she withdrew, at the romantic account we had received, Wilton strenuously defended our good landlady's narration, and declared, he thought it was not without a fair share of probability. On the return of our hostess, I did not venture to express any doubt of the truth of her story, but merely requested to know if she was aware of there being anywhere a more extensive collection of similar curiosities. 'To be sure. Sir,' she replied, 'our University has a museum full of them; and if you be going through Oxford, it will be well worth your while to see it.'
"After taking refreshment, we left our kind and communicative hostess, but not with an intention of immediately visiting the Museum of the University. On the contrary, I felt that, without some previous knowledge of the objects to be examined, our curiosity would be only excited, not gratified; and I resolved to defer our visit to Oxford, until we had obtained the information necessary to insure us both pleasure and profit in the investigation of the relics of interest it contained.