There is another foible which creates universal disgust among our associates, if nothing worse, and will always be carefully avoided by every well bred man in his conversation; I mean selfishness. The talking incessantly of our own affairs, or those in which we are concerned, or the comparing of ourselves with others to their disadvantage, is highly indecorous, and a species of rudeness that bespeaks a vain and empty person, who thinks all others are as concerned about him and his affairs as he is himself. That man founds his behaviour upon principles of genuine politeness and good sense, who never suffers either his occupation, pursuits, or pleasures, to be discovered by his conversation. A man should likewise be very cau tious of giving advice in company, especially when it is not asked. It is a delicate point, and every protestation of friendship and good will, will not be found sufficient to extenuate the offence, especially if he you address is sensible of his crror. When a man feels the reprehension of a friend seconded by his own heart, he is easily heated into resentment and revenge, either because he hoped that the fault of which he was conscious had escaped the notice of others; or that his friend had looked upon it with tenderness and extenuation; and excused it for the sake of his other virtues, or that he was too wise to need advice. At all events, advice should never be proffered from any motives of either interest or vanity; either for the mean purpose of showing our own discernment, or gratifying our Fride by the mortification of another. There is likewise something extreme ly hateful in blabbing out our private conversation in company. It is an idle vanity that often inclines us to enumerate our parties of mirth and friendship, and we believe our importance is increased by a recapitulation of the discourse, of which we were so distin guished sharers and to show that we were esteemed fit to be entrusted with affairs of great concern and privacy ; but while we are thus giving our narration with every air of importance, we are in the meanwhile exposing ourselves as persons whom no one ought to trust with any thing. Whatever is incompatible with the highest dignity of our nature, should indeed be excluded from our conversation. As companions, not only that which we owe to ourselves but to others, is required of us; and neither wisdom nor virtue are sufficient, without the supplementary laws of good breeding, to secure freedom from degenerating into rudeness, or self-esteem from swelling into insolence. The observance of these little civilities, and ceremonious delicacies, inconsiderable as they may appear to the man of science, and difficult as they may prove to be performed with dignity, are nevertheless necessary to the regulation of the world, and to the intercourse of mankind with one another; we can never estimate them rightly, but by the inconvenience of their loss, for their influence upon the manners is constant and uniform. It is true the power of delighting must be conferred by nature, and cannot be delivered by precept, or obtained by imitation; but though it be the privilege of a very, small number to ravish and to charm, every man may hope, by rules and caution, not to give pain, and may therefore by the help of good breeding, enjoy the kindness of mankind, though he should have no claim for higher distinctions. There are in every place, some particular modes of the ceremonial part of good breeding, which, being arbitrary and accidental, can be learned only by habitude and conversation; such are the forms of salutation, the different gradations of reverence, and all the adjustments of place and precedence; but there is one universal axiom, with which I shall conclude this paper, and which, though short, includes every complaisance; from it flow all the formalities that custom has established among civi lized nations, and it is a rule so comprehensive, and certain, that it is not easy for the mind of man to imagine one incivility, without supposing it to be broken; it should be engraven on the heart of every one who is placed by his fortune or rank in the higher classes of the community. LET NO MAN EVER GIVE ANY PREFERENCE TO HIMSELF. FAIR was thy blossom, bonny flower! How oft thy mother heav'd the sigh, How oft above thy lowly bed, When all in silence slumber'd low, Thou child of love of shame and woe. Her wrong'd, but gentle bosom, learn'd, Her moisten'd eye, so soft and bright, Fair was thy blossom bonny flower, That twang'd, and seal'd thine eye for ever.. Of beauty, innocence, and truth, But now I see thee stretch'd at rest; To break that rest shall wake no morrow! May thy long sleep be sound and sweet; Shall shed its earliest tear o'er thee. TO CORRESPONDENTS.-The SPY is extremely vexed that a certain Correspondent of his will write no other way, than in the mode of attaching. There is none who write better than he, but the Spy was never meant for a paper of controversy. EDINBURGH-Printed at the Star Office, (price 4d. a single Number, 4s. 6d. per quarter, deliverable in town, and 5s. when sent to the country), by A. AIKMAN, for the PROPRIETORS; where Subscriptions, and Communications, (post paid), will be received. 1811. The Spy. SATURDAY, JUNE 1. So wonderous wild the whole might seem, SIR, TO THE SPY. As every thing that relates to Loch Ketturin and its environs, that modern classic ground, is become interesting to the public, I have taken the resolution of sending you a short relation of a tour which I made through that district near the latter end of March last; in hopes, that the readers of your paper will not be displeased at meeting with some account of that romantic and favourite scene, even though by one ill fitted for such a description, and little acquainted with the rules of composition. I went to Stirling in the mail-coach, and riding to Callander that night, had the peculiar satisfaction of meeting with the old chieftain of M'Nab, whose name had been familiar to me from my infancy; and whom I had always been extremely anxious to see. From the relations that I had heard of his youth. ful feats, and eccentricities, I expected to find in him a rough imperious old gentleman, who would scarcely condescend to hold social intercourse with any man, far less with an inconsiderable wanderer, like me; but I found his manners simple and condescending, and his politeness without any affectation. His inexhaustible store of High No. 40. land anecdotes, and his manner of tell ing them is extremely amusing. Take him all in all; his form, manner, and character; and to these add the respect that is paid to him in the two villages,. where he chiefly resides, he is certainly the finest model of an old Highland feudal baron that will ever again be seen in Scotland. His character evinces. a high degree of obliging condescension and haughty impatience of controul, of the gentleness of the lamb, and theboldness of the lion. I took the road up Strathgartney on foot, intending to keep on the south side of the river, until I reached the old bridge a little below Loch Venachar; but observing, from the road, an arti ficial mound, on the level plain between the two rivers, and a small burial ground inclosed on the top of it, I could not resist the impulse to stem the water, though rough and deep, for the purpose of viewing it; not doubting but that it was the tomb of Roderick I was rather disappointed on Dhu. finding the names of other people recorded on the tomb, but as it was so nigh to the place of rencounter between Fitz-James and Roderick, and knowing that our old heroes were always buried on the fields where they fought, I hoped that the tomb would be first erected to him, and these other people buried in it afterwards. I cannot help remarking here, Mr. | can possibly do; but I have never read it without regretting, that it had not been founded on a fact, though ever so trivial; and though my taste may be particular in this matter, I felt the effect rather distressing to reflection on viewing every scene of action referred to in the poem, which causes me to mention it in this place. Spy, that I think the greatest fault at- The whole of the scenery around Callander and Strathgartney, is interesting, and to the man who has traversed the flat extent of the eastern counties of Britain, where the verge of the horizon is always resting on something level with, or below his eye, the frowning brows of Ben-Ledi, (the hill of God), with the broken outline of the mountains, both to the east and the westward, have a peculiarly pleasing effect. Still as you advance, the scenery improves, and in the vicinity of the bridge of Turk, it is highly picturesque, and yields little in variety to the celebrated Trossacks. From the top of Lanrick Mead, the muster place of the Clan-Alpine, which is a small detached hill at the junction of the water of Glen-Finlas with Loch Venachar, the general effect of the view is more noble and better contrasted, than from any other spot I alighted upon in the Strath. I had here a conversation of considerable length with an old crusty Highlander, with whose remarks I was highly amused. He asked me frankly where I came from? And what my business was in that country? And on my informing him, that I was going to take a view of the Trossacks; he said that I was right to do so, else I would not be in the fashion, but it was a sign, I was too idle, and had very little to do |