[220—to Thomas Moore]

January 29, 1812.

My Dear Moore,—I wish very much I could have seen you; I am in a state of ludicrous tribulation. ——

Why

[do]

you say that I dislike your poesy

[1]

? I have expressed no such opinion, either in

print

or elsewhere. In scribbling myself, it was necessary for me to find fault, and I fixed upon the trite charge of immorality, because I could discover no other, and was so perfectly qualified in the innocence of my heart, to "pluck that mote from my neighbour's eye."