brighter than some larger ones--is a kind of lizard without legs, and is,
on that account, sometimes included in the Snake-family. We may come upon
it in hot weather, among the furze bushes upon the common, or the stones
of some old ruin. It feeds upon a little grey slug, and is like the common
lizard in being so brittle that you can hardly take hold of it without
breaking it.
There is one more lizard which I have seen next door to the crocodile tank
at the Zoo: a very curious little animal, almost of the same colour as the
stick along which it walks, so slowly and silently that you may stand and
watch it for some time without being sure that it is moving at all; though
its eyes, which can move in different directions at the same moment, and
its long thin tongue, so clever at catching the insects on which it feeds,
are constantly in motion; but for its eyes and tongue, the Chameleon looks
as if it were as dead as the withered branch to which it clings.
The name of this lizard means "Ground-lion," but it is very unlike the king
of beasts both in appearance and disposition. The chameleon is found in
Spain, in Sicily, and in Syria; its home is in the branches of trees. Many
stories used to be told of the way in which it would change colour, not
exactly by blushing like a human creature, but by becoming green, yellow,
and even black when angry or calm, or when in sunshine or shade; but
naturalists who have kept a careful watch upon it do not believe that all
that has been said about this is true. There seems to be no doubt, however,
that it changes its colour according to its surroundings--a means of
protection given to a creature otherwise very defenceless.
[Illustration: "A lizard's body, lean and long,
A fish's head, a serpent's tongue."]
Serpents--so called from a word which means that which _creeps_--are
constantly used in the Bible as emblems of deceit and treachery. The words,
"More subtle than any beast of the field," may well come to our minds as
we watch a serpent, with its limbless body, winding along with that soft,
gliding motion to which we have given the name "snake-like."
In the serpent's eyes, too, though they are often so beautiful that we
cannot but admire them, there is some of this same dangerous subtlety--an
untrust--worthiness which makes us shrink from looking at them.
There are many varieties of this large family; some, like the rattlesnake,
cannot climb or swim, but crawl along the ground, the terror of unwary
travellers who may tread upon them in the dim forest-paths; others are
Water-snakes; some, like the Boa and Python, are dreaded, although not
venomous, because, of their enormous strength, and power of crushing their
victims in their close embrace; others, like the Cobra, for their deadly
bite; while many--we might almost say most--snakes are quite harmless, for
it has been reckoned that not more than one in ten is venomous; and none
but the giants of this family are dangerous, except for their poisoned
bite. The skin of serpents is covered with what are called false scales,
which do not overlap each other like those of the fishes, but only seem to
do so; and these scales are said to help them to move along rapidly. Most
of them are beautifully marked and spotted, and some shine like gold in
the sun, while others have pale, soft tints; but these lovely colours fade
in death, just as those of fish do; so that a snake in all its glittering
beauty can only be seen when alive. They often change their skins, creeping
out of the old and appearing ready-dressed in the new. A traveller along
the banks of the Nile has often found these cast-off skins in the fields;
they are always turned inside out, for the old skin, which is very soft,
folds back as the snake slips out of it.
[Illustration: SPOTTED SNAKES]
I suppose the first thought of all of us, on finding a snake in the grass,
would be, Is it a venomous one? So I think you will like to know that
poisonous snakes are rare in Europe; and Mr. Wood [Footnote: _Natural
History_ p. 521.] tells us that the Viper, which is our only venomous
serpent, is one of those least dangerous to life, although far from a
friend to those who shrink from pain. It may be known by dark spots down
the back. When we speak of venomous serpents, we mean those whose bite is
to be dreaded, because it conveys a tiny drop of poison, which mingles with
the blood, and often causes intense anguish, ending in death. In poisonous
serpents, the venom lies in a little bag at the root of a long sharp tooth,
pierced by a narrow tunnel, through which, at the moment when the bite
is given, the poison flows into the wound. If these poison-fangs--one on
each side--are taken out, the bite of the most dangerous serpents becomes
harmless.
The Indian serpent-charmers of whom you have heard know this, and before
they allow themselves to be bitten by the deadly cobras, with which
they are so fond of playing their feats of jugglery, are careful to
extract their sharp poison-fangs. Snakes seem to have a higher degree
of intelligence than is possessed by reptiles generally, and they can
be trained to be as playful and friendly as kittens; as you will allow
when you have heard a story which I have read, about some tame serpents
which lived in a cupboard, and were allowed to crawl about a gentleman's
drawing-room and lie coiled up on the tables and in the arm-chairs--besides
being on the most familiar terms with his children.
But we were speaking just now of the Viper, and you remember in the account
of the Apostle Paul's stay at Malta how the people who had been so kind
to the shipwrecked company looked at him when the viper crept out of the
bundle of sticks which he had gathered and laid on the fire, and fastened
on his hand? They expected that he would have swollen--for that is one
of the effects of the poison--or fallen down dead suddenly; but the Lord
Jesus, when He was on earth, said to His disciples, "Behold, I give unto
you power to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the
enemy: and nothing shall by any means hurt you." And when He was going back
to His Father, He said to those who believed on Him, "In My name ... they
shall take up serpents"; so we are not surprised that His servant "shook
off the beast into the fire, and felt no harm."
We must not forget, that although God may now allow what we call a violent
death to come to one of His children, whether by the bite of a serpent
or by some accident, nothing can possibly happen to them by chance; and
whatever dangers He allows them to fall into or saves them from--all that
comes is the very best for them that could happen: because "we know that
all things work together for good to them that love God."
Though you may admire the "spotted snakes" at a safe distance, in their
cages, I know you will not be sorry to hear that in England we have but
two kinds--the Ringed or Grass snake, which has no poison-fangs, and is
perfectly harmless, feeding upon the frogs which it finds in the marshy
places which are its home, and upon mice and young birds; and the common
Viper or Adder, which has two poison-fangs, but is not ready to use them,
unless it is trodden on, or otherwise provoked. This snake is found in
woods, and is fond of basking in the sun. It hatches its young before their
birth; so that the viper's brood have not to make their way out of the
shell before they can run about.
It is sad that dogs, and sometimes children, have been killed by its bite;
but it has not generally been fatal to men. These snakes are fond of
cream, and will wind their way into the dairy, and skim the milk-pans, and
sometimes visit hen-roosts, and suck the eggs.
The most terrible of the venomous snakes are the Cobra of India--called
by a Portuguese name, which means "hooded"; a very grand-looking serpent,
which holds its head high, and gives a loud hiss as it rises to strike its
prey; and the Rattlesnake of South America.
The Cobra de Capello is a land-serpent, but can swim, and climb trees. It
is treated with great respect in Egypt and India; and the people of Ceylon
say that it belongs to another world, but has come to pay them a visit.
They worship it in their temples, and their priests feed it with sugar
and milk, and never allow it to be killed. I believe serpents are not now
worshipped in Egypt; but they once were. They are constantly represented
upon Egyptian monuments, which are as old as the time when the children of
Israel were in Egypt; and on one of them may be seen three men, who are
being offered as sacrifices to a serpent which is represented coiled around
the seat of the sceptred king, as if protecting him.
The cobra loves music; and it is upon these serpents especially that the
snake-charmers like to show their skill. They take them about, coiled up in
baskets. When the performance is to begin, the lid of the basket is opened,
and the charmer, seated on the ground, begins to play upon his pipe.
Instantly the beautiful snake lifts its head, expands its hood--a loose
skin about the neck which it makes large or small at pleasure--and creeps
out, waving its body gracefully while the music lasts, and when it ceases,
dropping down again into the basket.
Some people have power to charm serpents; I have read a story of a man who,
by his music cleared a house of the snakes which infested it; having got
into the empty rooms, and hidden themselves in the crevices in the walls.
It was a strange sight to see them creep from their hiding-places at the
sound of the pipe; but sometimes serpents are deaf both to the voice and
music of the charmer--"like the deaf adder that stoppeth her ear; which
will not hearken to the voice of charmers, charming never so wisely" to
which David compares the wicked.
Since the bite of the cobra is so deadly, it is well that travellers are
not likely to meet it; for in the day-time it sleeps in the depths of
the forest, gliding silently out at night in search of food. The bold
naturalist, of whose alligator-ride you have heard, says that he never saw
any snake pursue a retreating prey; so that when a man, threading the mazes
of a forest, sees a serpent gliding towards him, he has but to turn into a
side path, and be safe. But if a snake is trodden upon, or otherwise roused
to anger, it will dart forward upon its enemy, in self-defence; also, if
one of the enormous snakes comes upon a man, it may seize him before he
has time to run away. Waterton, however, did not know what fear was; and
instead of being paralysed with terror at the sight of serpents, once
[Footnote: _Life of Charles Waterton_, p. 55.] caught a large one, the
"Bush master," and holding it by the throat so as to make it impossible
for it to bite, walked home with its folds coiled round him. He showed his
courage at another time quite as much by rescuing a little bird out of the
very mouth of a snake in a tree, as by the famous alligator exploit.
[Illustration: RATTLESNAKE.]
The Rattlesnake of South America takes its name from its warning rattle, a
sound made by some loose bones at the end of its tail, which knock together
when it moves, and so give fair warning of such a dangerous foe being in
the neighbourhood. Its bite has been known to cause death in two minutes,
and when it does not kill immediately, it produces a dreadful burning
feeling all over the body. Horses and dogs show very great terror if they
see these snakes; but the country folk are not so much afraid of them as
you would expect, for they know that it is the habit of the Rattlesnake to
glide away at the sound of footsteps, and as long as the warning sound is
heard, they feel safe. If the rattle is silent, it means danger, for the
snake is about to spring.
A Frenchman tells us that he once disturbed a mother rattlesnake, and saw
it coil itself up, open its mouth wide, and allow the five little ones
which were lying beside it to glide in, and hide themselves there. He was
very much interested, and waited behind a tree to see what would happen
next. In about a quarter of an hour he saw the little snakes come out
again; but when he once more showed himself, they hid as before, and the
mother quickly glided out of sight.
The Puff-adder of Africa, when roused, will breathe in air and puff
itself out to an extraordinary extent. Being, like all these cold-blooded
creatures, very fond of warmth, it often comes at night to fires made
by herdsmen or travellers; and so it happened that a traveller in South
Africa, sleeping soundly one night beside the fire, wrapped in his cloak,
was awakened by a weight on his chest, and found to his horror that a
puff-adder had coiled itself up inside his shirt. His first thought was to
seize the unwelcome visitor and throw it from him, but remembering that it
probably would only injure him if disturbed, he had the presence of mind to
let it remain in the warm nest it had found for itself, until, roused by a
light, it slowly uncoiled itself and crept away.
Of the serpents which are dreaded--not for their bite, for they have no
poison-fangs--but for their great strength and daring, and for the way
in which they coil round their victims, crushing them to death in their
terrible embrace--the most dangerous are the Python of the Old World, and
the Boa-constrictor of the New.
In one respect all serpents are boa-constrictors, for a very small one
has been seen in the act of thus crushing a bird; but the great boa which
inhabits tropical America is a giant, which has been known to swallow even
a buffalo whole, after it has crushed it to mummy, and broken all its
bones. Boas can swim and climb; they will catch fish as they come near the
surface of the water, and drag them ashore; or hang by their tails from
some forest tree, and thus lie in wait to seize any animal which may be
passing. They are now very shy of men, and not much feared by them; but
these great snakes used to be worshipped as gods by the people of Mexico,
and some of their serpent-idols have been found in ancient temples--showing
how much they were once dreaded; for it is the habit of men to worship what
they greatly fear.
The Python, a snake very like the boa, is an object of horror to the people
of South Africa; yet they are unwilling to destroy it, because they believe
it has an awful power, and say that no one has ever been known to injure a
python, without being severely punished in some mysterious way. I have read
an account of an adventure which a Dutchman had with one of these serpents,
which I must tell you, because of the part played in it by his little dog.
You shall have the story in his own words:--"I had in my cabin a large and
strong cage, enclosing a python of considerable size, but which appeared to
be dull and inanimate. We were lying off the coast of Borneo, where I was
detained for some days. When I came again on board, I had not taken many
steps before my little dog seized me by the trousers and endeavoured to
hold me fast. I shook him off and proceeded, when the dog seized me again,
and I again roughly forced him from me. At this juncture my attention was
directed to several hatchet-marks on the deck, and I instantly inquired the
meaning. The answer was, 'The snake, sir! the snake is loose!' And so it
proved. The reptile had cast his slough, and assumed with renewed beauty
all its natural energy. It had forced itself out of the cage, and after
doing some damage below, found its way to the deck, spreading consternation
among the men; by whom, as it appeared, it had been slightly wounded,
hatchets having been used for its destruction. Hence the marks on the deck,
and hence the fear of the dog, and its anxiety to detain me from advancing
into danger.
"With some precaution I proceeded to the spot where the snake was said to
have ensconsed himself, and soon observed him lying in coils. The instant
he saw me, he raised up full half of his length, and glancing around as
if uncertain whether to attack or fly, commenced a succession of violent
undulatory movements, the head alternately towering aloft and touching the
deck. At last, spying an opportunity, he dashed along with inconceivable
rapidity to the other end of the vessel, whither he was pursued; again he
displayed the undulations as described, and again darted to another part
of the deck. All felt excited, not without a misgiving that some accident
might take place. In this manner the chase was continued," the story goes
on to say, until the snake received its death-blow from a cutlass. He
measured seventeen feet. "I repented of my roughness to the dog," thus his
master concludes, "and he was henceforward a great favourite with the men,
who appreciated his fidelity and intelligence."
We read in the Epistle of James that "every kind of beasts, and of birds,
and of serpents, and of things in the sea, is tamed, and hath been tamed of
mankind"; and I have read of some snakes kept as pets by an English family,
which were not only perfectly tame, but seemed to be exceedingly fond of
those to whom they belonged.
An artist named Severn who visited this family says he found himself in
company with a large boa-constrictor, a python, and several smaller snakes.
He felt a good deal alarmed when the master of the house was called out of
the room, and he was left with the boa--a great serpent as large round as a
small tree--coiled on an arm-chair beside him. Presently two little girls
came in with their mother; they at once went to the boa, calling the huge
snake pet names, and allowing it to twine itself around them. He says, "The
children over and over again took its head in their hands and kissed its
mouth, pushing aside its forked tongue in doing so. The animal seemed much
pleased, but kept turning its head continually towards me with a curious
gaze, until I allowed it to nestle its head for a moment up my sleeve.
Nothing could be prettier than to see this splendid serpent coiled all
round Mrs. Mann while she moved about the room, and when she stood to
pour out our coffee. It was long before I could make up my mind to end
the visit, and I returned soon after with a friend to see my snake-taming
acquaintance again. The snakes seemed very obedient, and remained in their
cupboard when told to do so." [Footnote: Romanes' _Animal Intelligence_,
pp. 260, 261.]
Although I tell you this strange story, I do not think I should like to
make a pet of any serpent, however tame it might be; because it was this
creature, "more subtle than any beast of the field which the Lord God had
made"--which that enemy of God and of the souls of men, who is spoken of
in the last book of the Bible as "that old serpent, called the Devil, and
Satan, which deceiveth the whole world," used as an instrument, when he
came to tempt Eve in the garden of Eden.
The word Eden means "pleasure"; and when we were talking of that delightful
place--that garden which God planted, and where He put the man whom He had
formed--the little ones were asked to tell all they knew about it.
Leslie's answer was, "It was God's garden"; and Eustace and Dick told of
the two trees which were there, "the tree of life also, in the midst of the
garden, and the tree of knowledge of good and evil."
It was of this tree that Sharley and Chris spoke, when they answered the
question--
"There was something in the Garden of Eden to remind Adam and Eve that they
were God's creatures, subject to Him. What was it?"
"It was the tree of knowledge of good and evil," they said; for "the Lord
God commanded the man, saying. Of every tree of the garden thou mayest
freely eat: but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt
not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely
die."
Another question which the little boys had to answer was this--
"What was the first sin?"
"When Eve and Adam plucked the fruit." This was the answer given by all.
I want you to think about it. Adam and Eve owed everything to God, for He
had created them in His own image; and had blessed them, and given them
"dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and
over every living thing that moveth upon the earth," and had put them in
the beautiful garden which He had planted. How dreadful that they should
disobey the only command God gave them, and thus sin against Him! But had
not Eve sinned against God, even before she put out her hand and "took of
the fruit thereof, and did eat; and gave also unto her husband with her,
and he did eat?"
Chrissie said that when the serpent asked Eve that question about what God
had said, she ought not to have taken any notice; and Sharley thought that
the first beginning of the sin was listening to the serpent at all, and
that the devil now puts it into our hearts to ask, "Is there any harm in
doing it?" when he wants to make us listen to him, and forget what God has
said. And then we all agreed that the way to answer Satan is in Scripture
words.
I think Sharley was right in saying that the first beginning of the sin in
the Garden of Eden was when Eve _listened_ to the serpent--lent her ear to
one who dared to ask such a question as "Hath God said?" The next step in
the road which led away from God, Eve took when she _answered_ that daring
question; the next, when she _believed_ the lie of the serpent, instead of
the word of God.
The devil is a liar, and when he spoke to Eve he tried to make her think
that God was not so good to His creatures as He might be, for He would not
allow them to have the very best thing in the garden--that forbidden fruit.
The great enemy of God envied His creatures their happy place where they
received everything from Him, and were dependent upon Him for everything;
and God allowed the man and woman whom He had made, to be proved; and, when
weighed in the balance, they were found WANTING. And so we read in God's
book how "by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so
death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned."
As Eve gave her confidence to the serpent, she lost confidence in God, and
went on to believe that when _God_ had said, "In the day that thou eatest
thereof thou shalt surely die," and the _serpent_ said, "Ye shall not
surely die," it was the serpent that spoke the truth. How dreadful it was
for God's creatures to look to the devil for happiness, to give up God who
created them, and take Satan for their master!
Instead of happiness they found only shame and misery. The serpent had said
that their eyes should be opened, and they should be as gods, knowing good
and evil. We read, "And the eyes of them both were opened;" but God in His
word tells us of those whose eyes "the God of this world hath blinded."
They had no power to choose what was good; and tried to hide away from God.
And so the first man was driven out of God's garden, and there has never
been any way back to it at all! No way back to God either, for Adam or
for his children, except through Christ, "the Second Man, the Lord from
Heaven."
It was of this wonderful way, of Him who is "the Way," that God spoke when
He told the serpent that the Seed of the woman should bruise his head.
The Lord Jesus Christ was "the Seed," the One who loved us and gave Himself
for us: the One whom "God so loved the world" as to give, "that whosoever
believes in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life;" the One who
"once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that He might bring us to
God."
We have been learning something of how dreadful the bites of serpents are,
how full of deadly poison: and we have been reading how, by listening to
the old serpent, the poison of sin--having our own will, and thinking hard
thoughts of God--came into the hearts of God's creatures, bringing sorrow,
and shame, and death with it. How beautiful that the righteous One in whom
was no sin, and who come to take away our sins, should tell us that "As
Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man
be lifted up." The serpent of brass was not kept in Moses's tent; it was
lifted high, for all to see it. God, who knew His people's sin, and had
sent those fiery serpents to bite them, had Himself told Moses to make that
serpent of brass, and those who were bitten had only to look at it and
live. If they looked at their own hurt, or at each other, or at Moses--all
was of no avail; but "it came to pass that if a serpent had bitten any man,
when he beheld the serpent of brass, he lived."