_Of the astonishing Transmigration of Miss_ ABIGAIL EVILTONGUE _into
the Body of a Serpent._
In the next apartment we saw a large wire cage, in which the Bramin
told us he had a bird which was something different from the common
ones; and so indeed it was, for upon my eldest daughter's going near to
see it, she was startled by a large serpent which darted itself against
the wires, and hissed and sissed as if it would have stung us all to
death in an instant. It was however, a very beautiful creature of the
kind, and as the sun then shone very bright, the golden and silver
streaks upon its azure skin made a very splendid appearance. My
youngest son wanting to go and stroke it;--"No, my pretty boy, said the
good Bramin; if you have any value for yourself, you will always keep
out of the reach of such creatures as these, and of all such who
resemble the young lady by whose soul this serpent is animated. I say
_young lady_, because the serpent before you is indeed animated by the
soul of the late Miss _Abigail Eviltongue_. The family of the
_Eviltongue_, (I dare say you have heard of them) is extremely
numerous; for there are some, and indeed too many of them, in every
town, and, I believe in every village in the country. Miss _Abigail_,
the young lady I am speaking of, had as just a title to the name, and
supported the character of her family with as much exactness as any one
amongst them; for her tongue was remarkably active, and spared the
reputation neither of friend nor foe. She was, it is true, a very
handsome girl, and the charms of her person would have procured her
many admirers if they had not been disgraced by her natural propensity
to slander and defamation. In her very infancy, as soon as she could
speak to be understood, she began with telling fibs of the servants,
and very frequently of her brothers and sisters; for which, you may be
certain, they all despised her very heartily. But as she was too much
encouraged in this hateful practice by her parents, instead of being
severely flogged for it, as she ought to have been, she set the frowns
and sneers of the others at open defiance; and the more they resented
her little malice the more eager she was to gratify it by loading them
with all the falsehoods she was capable of inventing. In proportion as
she grew older, this mischievous habit increased upon her; and when she
was big enough to go a visiting, she indulged it abroad with as much
freedom as she had been used to do at home; so that, in a short time,
there was scarcely a young miss or master in the neighbourhood whose
character she had not attempted to injure. What made her slanders the
more odious was, that she generally vented them under a pretence of the
greatest friendship and respect for the persons to whom she related
them, and with great seeming pity for those whose reputation they were
intended to destroy. She had likewise the malicious cunning to say many
trifling things in praise of the objects of her censure; that by thus
assuming an appearance of the strictest impartiality, and of the
sincerest good nature, she might more easily gain credit to the bad
things she said afterwards. By such artifices as these she frequently
succeeded with the innocent and the unwary, and set one acquaintance
and even one friend against another, without any sort of advantage to
herself but the mere pleasure of making mischief. Another trick which
she often employed for that purpose, was to examine into a young
gentleman or lady's constitutional foibles (for we all have some) and
when she had discovered these, to go immediately to the person and tell
him or her, that master or miss _such a one_ had publickly ridiculed
him for those very failings; by these means she was almost certain to
be believed without any farther inquiry; for every one, even upon the
slightest hint, will readily suspect that those things have been said
of him, which he most wishes to be concealed, because he is conscious
they are _really_ true; he will seldom trouble himself to inquire into
the veracity of the tale bearer, lest he should be reduced to the
necessity of defending himself on his weakest side. For a similar
reason, when Miss _Abigail_ had a mind to flatter any person (which she
frequently would, to answer the purposes of her malice) she always
commended him for those particular good qualities, or accomplishments
which she knew he most valued himself for, or chiefly wished to have
the credit of; because she was sensible that by this method she
effectually retained his own vanity as her advocate for whatever she
said afterwards. Nay, I have been informed by one who knew her
perfectly well, that, young as she was, she sometimes carried her
artifice so far as to begin a dispute with the person she intended to
deceive, and after a little sharp altercation _pro and con_ to flatter
his vanity by gradually giving up the argument, and at last yielding
him a victory, which gave him the more pleasure, because he thought it
to be entirely owing to the invincible strength of his judgment. But
she had another fault, which, if possible, was still more odious, than
any of those already mentioned--viz. to revile and backbite those from
whom she had received the greatest favours; for as she was too proud to
own herself to 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.