The tongue of a snake not being so planted, and not by any possibility intercepting the breath, it is needless to repeat that it can never be any agent of the voice, _i.e._ ‘hissing,’ nor is it every snake that does hiss (see chap. ix.). Illustrations conveying an entirely erroneous impression are very much to be regretted, and unfortunately this misplacing of the snake’s tongue is an extremely common error, and we recognise the familiar woodcut again and again in a number of different publications, misconceptions thus being seriously multiplied. Bad illustrations, even more than printed errors, are responsible, because more persons turn the leaves of a book to look at these, than those who read the page, and a glance either instructs or misinforms the eye. The hissing of a snake, as we may here add, is merely an escape or expulsion of air from the lungs, more or less quick or ‘loud,’ as the reptile is more or less alarmed or angry. Conjecturally, one may suppose this hissing to correspond with the agitated breathing or panting of other animals, or of an excited person. In the seventeenth century, when travellers were visiting for the first time the newly-settled colonies in America and Africa, and when the early explorers in various parts of the world were sending home stuffed specimens of animals (in the days when taxidermy, like other sciences, was in its infancy), a stuffed snake was furnished with a huge, broad, fleshy tongue, big enough to crowd its entire mouth, minus teeth and gums.[33] Whether this broad tongue was to favour the delusion of ‘licking,’ or whether the licking was presupposed from the look of the tongue, we cannot say, but that the stuffed specimens did encourage the delusion is clear. Our Philosophical Society, founded about the middle of that century, and the ‘Philosophical Transactions’ of those days record the first arrival of tropical serpents in England, and the marvellous beliefs concerning them. From them we learn, nevertheless, that many things said to be ‘new to science’ in our own time, were not unknown two centuries ago. Passing by a large number of writers on snakes, who, being convinced that the tongue neither ‘stings’ nor ‘licks’ nor ‘aids in hissing,’ and who, therefore, cursorily dismiss it with, ‘the use of the tongue is not known,’ let us thoroughly examine for ourselves this mysterious organ; and this we can do with the assistance of those who have devoted careful attention to the subject. Quoting first our English authorities, Dr. J. E. Gray tells us: ‘Tongue very long, retractile into a sheath at its base. Apex forked, very long, slender, and tapering.’ Says Dr. Günther: ‘Tongue long, vermiform, forked; an organ of touch; frequently and rapidly exserted to examine an object. The slightest provocation brings the tongue into play.’