One accusation, he confess'd,
Had touch'd him more than all the rest;
Three Patriot-Letters, high in fame,
By him o'erthrown, and brought to shame.
And though it was a rule in vogue,
If one man call'd another rogue,
The party injur'd might reply,
And on his foe retort the lye;
Yet what accru'd from all his labour,
But foul dishonour to his neighbour?
And he's a most unchristian elf,
Who others damns to save himself.
Besides, as all men knew, he said,
These Letters only rail'd for bread;
And hunger was a known excuse
For prostitution and abuse;
A guinea, properly apply'd,
Had made the writer change his side;
He wish'd he had not cut and carv'd him,
And own'd, he should have bought, not starv'd him.