may often receive from him hints of things that
are worth knowing, and what he may possibly turn to his own advantage,
tho they are of little use to the owner. The worst kind of pedants
among learned men are such as are naturally endowed with a very small
share of common sense, and have read a great number of books without
taste or distinction....

My friend Will Honeycomb, who was so unmercifully witty upon the
women, in a couple of letters which I lately communicated to the
public, has given the ladies ample satisfaction by marrying a farmer's
daughter; a piece of news which came to our club by the last post. The
Templar is very positive that he has married a dairymaid; but Will, in
his letter to me on this occasion, sets the best face upon the matter
that he can, and gives a more tolerable account of his spouse. I must
confess I suspected something more than ordinary, when upon opening
the letter I found that Will was fallen off from his former gaiety,
having changed Dear Spec, which was his usual salute at the beginning
of the letter, into "_My worthy friend_," and subscribed himself at
the latter end of it, at full length, William Honeycomb. In short, the
gay, the loud, the vain Will Honeycomb, who had made love to every
great fortune that has appeared in town for above thirty years
together, and boasted of favors from ladies whom he had never seen, is
at length wedded to a plain country girl.

His letter gives us the picture of a converted rake. The sober
character of the husband is dashed with the man of the town, and
enlivened with those little cant phrases which have made my friend
Will often thought very pretty company. But let us hear what he says
for himself.

MY WORTHY FRIEND.

I question not but you, and the rest of my acquaintance,
wonder that I, who have lived in the smoke and gallantries
of the town for thirty years together, should all on a
sudden grow fond of a country life. Had not my dog of a
steward run away as he did, without making up his accounts,
I had still been immersed in sin and sea-coal. But since my
late forced visit to my estate, I am so pleased with it,
that I am resolved to live and die upon it. I am every day
abroad among my acres, and can scarce forbear filling my
letter with breezes, shades, flowers, meadows, and purling
streams. The simplicity of manners which I have heard you so
often speak of, and which appears he