An essay towards a natural history of serpents

In Short

Charles Owen’s An Essay Towards a Natural History of Serpents is a mid-eighteenth-century natural history compilation that doubles as an inquiry into ancient superstition and biblical theology. The work surveys the physical properties of snakes, spiders, and other venomous creatures, detailed by species, geography, and physiological effects. It transitions into a theological analysis tracing snake worship back to the Garden of Eden and the brazen serpent of Moses. The book has endured as a vivid artifact of early modern science, where empirical observations share space with classical mythology and Protestant moral philosophy.

The Story

The text begins as a broad physical survey of the serpent kingdom, establishing the creature's general traits, mechanics of movement, modes of reproduction, and varied colorations. Owen explores how air sustains animal life and powers bodily functions, examining how serpents endure long periods without food in vacuum conditions or winter dormancy. He then surveys vegetable, mineral, and animal poisons, observing how substances toxic to humans serve as nourishment for other species. Through medical cases and laboratory experiments—such as Dr. Areskine provoking a viper to bite six pigeons in succession to test the depletion of its venom—the narrative demonstrates how heat exalts venomous qualities.

Moving beyond general biology, the work transitions into an encyclopedic gazetteer of known reptiles from around the globe. Owen documents exotic and domestic species, listing their regional names, behaviors, and distinct dangers. He recounts dramatic encounters between animals, such as a fierce battle between a viper and a pair of magpies, or a dog in Martinique battling a serpent to save its owner before being cured with banana tree juice. The natural history extends to other venomous or mysterious creatures, detailing giant tropical spiders, terrifying scolopendra worms, and the immense crocodiles of the Nile that swallow stones to digest human prey. He touches upon strange medical afflictions, including soldiers tormented by leg worms and tarantula bites cured through the rhythmic power of Italian music.

In its final third, the work pivots from physical science to religious history and comparative theology through six distinct dissertations. Owen sets out to discover why mankind came to deify so repulsive a creature. He traces the roots of serpentine reverence to two primary origins: the cunning of the primeval serpent in Paradise and the miraculous healing properties of the brazen serpent erected by Moses in the wilderness. He argues that ancient pagans, misled by demonic deception and a desire for visible gods, transformed the memory of these events into widespread idolatry. Expanding his critique, he examines how whole nations fell into the absurdity of worshipping beasts, describing Egyptian temples where cats, baboons, and crocodiles were served lavish meals and given magnificent public funerals. The text culminates in a sweeping condemnation of pagan superstition, framing the historical worship of serpents as the ultimate triumph of the devil over human reason.

How It Unfolds

The physical machine The opening chapters examine the anatomy, breath, coloration, and venom of serpents, supported by laboratory vacuum experiments and accounts of antidotes ranging from viper fat to plant juices.

A catalog of horrors The survey expands globally to classify specific reptiles, detailing the fiery-colored Pareas that devours poisonous snakes, the fatal Dipsas whose bite causes bursting thirst, and the Mexican rattlesnake kept tame in homes.

Monsters and vermin The study broadens to encompass larger beasts and peripheral pests, describing human-devouring crocodiles, giant South American spiders, and swarms of flesh-eating worms that conquer kings.

The Paradise narrative Shifting to theology, the narrative analyzes the primeval serpent in Eden, contrasting biblical truth with pagan myths of paradise like the Phrygian rivers of pleasure and grief.

Idols and altars The argument addresses the origins of idolatry, describing how Terah's idol shop was rejected by Abraham and how Egyptian priests invoked spirits to inhabit statues to satisfy a populace craving visible divinities.

The serpent deified The concluding sections detail how the brazen serpent of Moses inspired worldwide serpent worship, leading to bizarre historical moments such as Alexander the Great claiming lineage from a giant serpent.

The People

• Charles Owen — The author and narrator, an inquisitive eighteenth-century clergyman and naturalist. He seeks to reconcile empirical scientific observation with orthodox Christian theology, framing the natural world as a testament to divine design while aggressively dismantling pagan superstition.
• Sir Hans Sloane — The famed physician, collector, and President of the Royal Society to whom the book is dedicated. He represents the ideal Enlightenment scholar whose vast collection of natural curiosities inspires Owen's intellectual inquiry.
• The Primeval Serpent — The central antagonist of the theological narrative. Beginning in Genesis as the cunning tempter of humanity, this entity drives the world's idolatry by convincing fallen civilizations to worship the snake as a deity.
• The Egyptian Priests — Key figures in the historical decay of true religion. Seeking to maintain power over a populace governed by physical senses, they invent beast worship, construct elaborate temples for sacred animals, and demand thousands of human sacrifices.

In Its Own Voice

"If they discharge all their Artillery to-day, their Arsenal will be full to-morrow."

A description of how a female viper quickly regenerates her store of venom after biting a series of targets in a scientific trial.

"The Conquest made by the old Serpent in Paradise, and the wonderful Cures made by the Shadow of a Serpent in the Wilderness, contributed very much towards making that hateful Creature so venerable in the Eyes of so many Nations."

Owen explains how historical events recorded in scripture were corrupted by ancient cultures into the practice of serpent worship.

"What Man could have forbore laughing, said the Greek Poet above, to see an Egyptian on his Marrowbones, praying to an Ox as to a God, or howling over a sick Cat, fearing lest his scratching God should die?"

A quoted classical satire mocking the absurdity of Egyptian animal worship and the divine honors paid to domestic beasts.

What It's Really About

Behind its catalog of rattlesnakes, crocodiles, and tarantulas, the book is an argument about human error and the fragility of reason. Owen uses the serpent as a dual lens: on one hand, it is an entry in the ledger of natural philosophy, a testament to God's complex creation where even deadly poisons serve a purpose in the global ecosystem. On the other hand, it is a symbol of moral corruption. The text explores how easily human beings abandon rational thought to worship physical objects, trading invisible spiritual truths for tangible idols. It asks how civilized societies fall into monstrous cruelty and foolish superstition, ultimately concluding that pride and sensory indulgence are the root causes of both moral decay and intellectual blindness.

Why Read It Today

An Essay Towards a Natural History of Serpents offers a fascinating window into an era when modern science and classical theology were inextricably intertwined. Readers who enjoy historical oddities, early modern natural history, or the history of religion will appreciate Owen’s colorful prose and eclectic collection of lore. The reading experience feels like walking through a cabinet of curiosities with an eccentric, deeply knowledgeable eighteenth-century tutor who pivots effortlessly from laboratory pigeon experiments to Mexican human sacrifice and Italian music cures.

The book does present challenges typical of its period. The prose relies heavily on long sentences, Latin phrases, and classical references that require a patient reader. Its scientific claims reflect the misunderstandings of the 1700s—such as spontaneous generation, dragons, and extreme medical folklore—and its religious commentary displays the sharp, unyielding Protestant anti-pagan bias of the era. Yet, for those willing to navigate its archaic style, the text remains an entertaining, vivid record of how early thinkers tried to organize the terrifying, beautiful, and weird corners of the natural world.