5. Coluber (Latin), Couleuvre (French), ‘the coiling.’ 6. Adder (Saxon), ‘the grovelling.’ 7. Snake (Saxon), Schlange (German), ‘the crawling’ (with sense of dragging, and of smoothness). The first, and _Ophidion_, a small serpent, _Ophiodes_, etc., have given the name _Ophiology_ to the science; the second was also a ‘serpente’ in days of yore. The third, _Anguis_, is now applied to some of the smooth, burrowing snakes; and the rest speak for themselves. Before quite taking leave of obsolete teachings, a few lines from two very distinguished authors of the seventeenth century must be quoted, the influence of both having no doubt gone a great way towards diffusing beliefs. Lord Bacon—in his book, _Of the Proficience and Aduancement of Learning, Diuine and Humane_. To the King. 1605—writes, ‘It is not possible to join Serpentine Wisdom with the Columbine Innocency, except men know exactly all the conditions of the Serpent; his Baseness and going upon his Belly, his Volubility and Lubricity, his Envy and Sting; for without this, Virtue lyeth unfenced.’ What quality is to be understood by ‘Volubility,’ the reader must decide. Of the other five offences, all except that of crawling are simply imaginary. By ‘Lubricity,’ a supposed sliminess may be intended, or the old fable of ‘licking’ the prey; and the only reasonable interpretation of the ‘Sting’ is that the old Saxon word _styng_ did imply a wound punctured or pierced with any fine, sharp instrument; and the venomous tooth is not so very unlike an insect’s sting after all. The next is from _Pepys’ Diary_, vol. i. p. 322.—Feb. 4th, 1661:—‘Mr. Templer, an ingenious Man, discoursing of the Nature of Serpents, told us that some in the waste Places of Lincolnshire do grow to a Great Bigness, and do feed upon Larkes which they take thus:—They observe when the Larke is soared to the Highest, and do crawl till they come to be just underneath them, and there they place themselves with their mouth uppermost; and there, as it is conceived, they do eject Poyson upon the Bird; for the Bird do suddenly come down again in its course of a Circle, and falls directly into the Mouth of the Snake.’ This story, founded on fact, is related by a beholder who, to use the words of Dr. Andrew Wilson when discoursing on ‘Zoological Myths,’ made ‘an unscientific use of his imagination.’ Our largest English snake has no poison to ‘eject, as it was conceived.’ Quite possible that it might have looked up towards the singing lark, and with the swiftness of the bird in its descent, glided towards the spot, ready to pounce upon it. The absurdity of poison being ejected upwards through a needle-like fang,—had the snake possessed such an instrument,—and to such a height, is evident.