control the cobra not by extracting its fangs, but by courageously availing themselves of its timidity and reluctance to use them, was also proved during Sir E. Tennent’s residence in Ceylon by the death of one of these performers, whom his audience had provoked to attempt some unaccustomed familiarity with the cobra; it bit him on the wrist, and he expired the same evening. The deserted nests of the termites are the favourite retreat of the sluggish and spiritless cobra, which watches from their apertures the toads and lizards on which it preys. On coming upon it, its only impulse is concealment; and when it is unable to escape, a few blows from a whip are sufficient to deprive it of life. It is a curious fact that, though not a water-snake, the cobra sometimes takes considerable excursions by sea. When the ‘Wellington,’ a Government vessel employed in the inspection of the Ceylonese pearl-banks, was anchored about a quarter of a mile from land, a cobra was seen, about an hour before sunset, swimming vigorously towards the ship. It came within twelve yards, when the sailors assailed it with billets of wood and other missiles, and forced it to return to land. The Egyptian Haje (_Naja Haje_), a near relation of the Indian cobra, is probably the asp of ancient authors, which Queen Cleopatra chose as the instrument of her death, to avoid figuring in the triumph of Augustus. Like the cobra, it inflates its neck when in a state of excitement, and as it raises its head on being approached, as if watchful for its safety, it was venerated by the ancient Egyptians as a symbol of divinity, and as the faithful guardian of their fields. Divine honours have, however, much more frequently been paid to the venomous snakes from the terror they inspire, than from far-fetched notions of beneficence. Several Indian tribes in North America adore the rattlesnake; and in the kingdom of Widah, on the coast of Guinea, a viper has its temple and ministers, and is no less carefully provided for than if it were an inmate of the Zoological Gardens. The Cerastes, or horned viper, one of the most deadly serpents of the African deserts, is frequently exhibited by Egyptian jugglers, who handle and irritate it with impunity: they are supposed to render themselves invulnerable by the chewing of a certain root, but most likely, as in the case of the cobra-charmers, their secret consists in their courage and perfect knowledge of the animal’s nature. Although the Boas and Pythons are unprovided with venomous fangs, yet, from their enormous size, they may well be ranked among the deadly snakes; for, as Waterton justly remarks, ‘it comes nearly to the same thing in the end whether the victim dies by poison from the fangs, which corrupts his blood, or whether his body be crushed to mummy and swallowed by a Python.’