THE SERPENT IN LITERATURE 191 



if he did not use that particular expression he 

 protested against the multiplication of such works, 

 and even feared that we should all be buried alive 

 under them the ponderous tomes which nobody 

 reads, elephantine bodies without souls; or shall 

 we say, carcasses, dressed and placed in their 

 canvas coverings on shelves in the cold storage of 

 the zoological libraries. 



As to the paper which follows, it was never 

 intended to use it as it stands for the book. It is 

 nothing but a little exercise, and merely touches 

 the fringe of a subject for a great book not an 

 anthology (Heaven save us!), but a history and 

 review of the literature of the serpent from Ruskin 

 back to Sanconiathon, and I now also generously 

 give away this title of " The Serpent in Literature." 



When the snakists of the British Museum or 

 other biological workshop have quite done with 

 their snake, have pulled it out of its jar and popped 

 it in again to their hearts' content; weighed, 

 measured, counted ribs and scales, identified its 

 species, sub-species, and variety; and have duly 

 put it all down in a book, made a fresh label, 

 perhaps written a paper when all is finished, 

 something remains to be said; something about 

 the snake; the creature that was not a spiral- 

 shaped, rigid, cylindrical piece of clay-coloured 

 gutta-percha, no longer capable of exciting strange 

 emotions in us the unsightly dropped coil of a 

 spirit that was fiery and cold. Where shall that 



