We can now imagine the helpless condition of the reptile if deprived of the tongue! Rudolph Effeldt, of whom Lenz speaks as the ‘most eminent observer of living snakes,’ found that when deprived of the tongue, they would neither eat nor drink, and, of course, died after a while. But Lenz had some snakes sent him which had been deprived of their tongues, and he observed that though for a time dull and declining, they did recover, and by and by ate as usual. From which we can only conclude that snakes, like other animals, differ in their powers of endurance. Some survive mutilation and suffering, some do not. Another error in illustrations is to represent the tongue far extended while the mouth is wide open. Snakes very rarely open their mouths and use their tongues at the same time. Indeed, excepting to gape, the snake does _not_ generally open its mouth; nor invariably keep it open while advancing on its prey, as illustrations often represent. Nature has further provided for the safety of the tongue by leaving a small opening in the upper lip, or at the point of the muzzle, just where no teeth are in the way, so that the snake can use its tongue without exposing the sheath and mouth to injury. This ‘chink in the rostral shield,’ to use technical language, permits the free exit of the tongue and the independent actions of the two muscles of which it is formed, enabling the reptile to hold the two fine tips close together as one tip, while passing the tongue through the narrow chink, and to expand them afterwards. Lenz never observed any dust or small particles adhering to the tongue; but Mr. Arthur Nicols, the author of _Zoological Notes_, informs me that he _has_ noticed little fragments of rubbish cling to the tongue and carried into the mouth. Dr. Cantor also says: ‘Sea snakes make no use of the tongue while _in_ the water, but considerable use of it as a feeler when out of the water.’ He has noticed ‘several Indian land snakes use it to bring into the mouth various small bodies, as stones, sand, twigs, which they swallow to stimulate digestion.’ This is curious and noteworthy. The power or volition which can control the sheath and close the valve can, no doubt, exclude these foreign particles; as, while lapping, the mouth must be moistened as well as the interior of the sheath, both it and the tongue requiring frequent lubrication. But we have now reached the confines of speculation. There is enough of real fact about this ‘horrid forked tongue’ to interest and astonish us. We find it guarded, aided, especially provided for, and especially constructed and endowed; especially _harmless_ also. To the owner its importance ranks not second even to the eyes.