be under obligations to any person, so to prevent others
from taking notice of them, as she imagined to her disadvantage, she
would represent every obligation she had received from her friends to
be either of the most trifling consequence, or to have been bestowed
from selfish and despicable motives. Such was the temper and behaviour
of Miss _Abigail_, who was a wretched complication of malice, low
cunning and ingratitude: It is therefore no wonder that every person of
sense and character was careful to avoid her company, and that she was
detested by many, and despised even by those who wished her well. In
short, the general contempt to which she had exposed herself, and the
severe mortifications she met with from time to time, gave such killing
wounds to her pride, that after pining and wasting away with shame and
vexation for the space of several months, she at last broke her heart
and gave up the ghost, in the seventeenth year of her age. After her
death her contemptible soul was immediately hurried into the body of
this venomous serpent, where it still retains its former malice and
cunning."--When the Bramin had finished his story, the serpent, as if
she understood and resented what had been said, writhed about and
hissed at him as if she could have stung his eyes out.

We afterwards visited several other apartments, and saw a young tyger,
a fox, a badger, &c. each of which was animated by the soul of some
naughty child, who very nearly resembled him in temper. But as I have
perhaps, already carried my treatise to such a length as will tire the
eyes and the patience of my little readers, it is proper to bring it to
a conclusion. I will, therefore, take my leave of them for the present,
with observing that in one of the rooms we visited, we saw a pretty
little parrot, in a gilt cage, who was perpetually talking, but did not
understand the meaning of one single word he said. "This noisy bird,
said the good Bramin, is inhabited by the soul of the late master
_Gabble_, who was remarkable for two faults. He always spoke without
thinking, and read a great deal with so little attention, that he made
no farther improvement in knowledge than if he had never read at all.
He devoured every thing, but digested nothing." If any of my readers
happen to be of the same disposition, they may survey the gilt covers
of this little treatise with as much advantage as they will peruse the
contents of it.

FINIS.

End of the