A Letter from Mr. Cibber to Mr. Pope

In Short

This 1742 pamphlet is a masterclass in literary retaliation. Tired of being the recurring target of mockery in the works of Alexander Pope—specifically in his satirical Dunciad—Colley Cibber breaks his long-standing silence. He crafts a spirited, prose-based rebuttal that questions the morality of a poet who builds his fame by "whipping and branding" those who cannot fight back. By reclaiming his own reputation and exposing the thin-skinned nature of his attacker, the aging dramatist succeeds in turning the tables on one of history’s most formidable satirists.

The Story

The central conflict begins not in the pages of a book, but in the volatile theater of 18th-century London. Colley Cibber, a veteran player and former patentee of Drury Lane, finds himself repeatedly cast by Alexander Pope as the King of Dunces. For years, Cibber remains stoically silent, believing that a man of sense should not dignify a libel with a response. However, when Pope releases a new iteration of his Dunciad, doubling down on his ridicule, Cibber’s friends demand that he respond. They argue that to remain quiet is to confess his own bankruptcy in wit.

Cibber accepts the challenge, but he does so on his own terms. He rejects the medium of poetry, noting that while Pope is a master of verse, he will take his stand in plain prose—a field where he can hold his opponent accountable for verifiable facts. The narrative arc of the letter is one of systematic deconstruction. Cibber methodically examines the various instances where Pope has insulted him, from oblique references in personal letters to the public humiliation within the lines of the Dunciad.

Along the way, Cibber reveals the pettiness of his antagonist. He tells a revealing anecdote about an evening where he discovered a "little hasty hero"—a clear allusion to the physically small and often temperamental Pope—in a compromising situation with a woman. Cibber claims he stepped in to "save" the poet from a scandal that might have ruined him, thereby proving that he is not the malicious enemy Pope paints him to be. This story serves a dual purpose: it humanizes the target while simultaneously highlighting the absurdity of the poet’s persistent, unprovoked spite.

As the letter progresses, Cibber argues that Pope’s "ruling passion" is not the pursuit of high art, but a "low avarice of praise" and a pathological need to destroy anyone who does not worship at his altar. He characterizes Pope as an "outragious Nero" who delights in the pain of others because he cannot bear the slightest criticism himself. The letter concludes by stripping away the veneer of Pope’s moral authority, leaving the reader to decide if the poet’s brilliant verse is truly worth the "malignity of mind" required to produce it. By the end, Cibber has not only defended his own legacy as a successful man of the stage but has also cast a long, unflattering shadow over the reputation of the man who sought to define him as a fool.

How It Unfolds

The call to battle Cibber opens by addressing the "motives" behind his decision to speak out after years of silence. He explains that his friends have finally convinced him that ignoring the poet's repeated attacks makes him appear truly dull and witless.

The anatomy of a grudge He pivots to an analysis of why a great genius would waste so much effort on a minor actor. He suggests that the poet’s obsession with him stems from a fragile ego, bruised by an early, public, and embarrassing correction of the poet's own work.

The defensive counter-attack Cibber systematically dismantles specific insults found in the Dunciad. He mocks the absurdity of the imagery used against him, arguing that the poet is so desperate for a laugh that he has resorted to nonsensical, repetitive jibes.

The personal revelation He recounts the story of rescuing the poet from a humiliating encounter with a woman. This serves as his "gotcha" moment, demonstrating that his supposed enemy has actually been a benefactor, while the poet has been an ingrate.

The final assessment Cibber concludes by contrasting his own honest, fact-based prose with the poet's "smiling verse" that hides deep bitterness. He leaves the reader with a final, biting question: who is the true dunce—the man being mocked, or the man so obsessed with mockery that he has lost his own humanity?

The People

Colley Cibber is the unlikely hero of this exchange. A man who has spent over fifty years on the boards of Drury Lane, he is worldly, pragmatic, and remarkably thick-skinned. He wants only to defend his professional reputation and to understand why he has become a lifelong target for a man he once respected. He emerges not as the "dunce" his rival depicts, but as a man of genuine charm and self-awareness.

Alexander Pope is the antagonist, though he never speaks in his own voice here. He is depicted as a "little hasty hero," a brilliant but deeply insecure poet whose "ruling passion" for fame has curdled into a mean-spirited addiction to revenge. He is presented as a hypocrite who preaches moral superiority in verse while acting like a tyrant in reality. By the time Cibber is finished, the poet is no longer the terrifying figure of literary legend, but a small, petty man who cannot stop himself from attacking anyone who dares to exist near his "throne."

In Its Own Voice

Cibber describes the necessity of speaking out when he is constantly painted as a fool by a man who holds himself above all others:

My Friends now insist, that it will be thought Dulness indeed, or a plain Confession of my being a Bankrupt in Wit, if I don't immediately answer those Bills of Discredit you have drawn upon me.

Cibber notes the irony of a man who claims to be a moral arbiter but whose actions are governed entirely by a vengeful ego:

For, as Dryden says, Forgiveness, to the Injur'd does belong; But they ne'er pardon who have done the Wrong.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an inquiry into the ethics of satire. Cibber challenges the idea that a "great genius" has the right to destroy the reputations of others simply to showcase his own wit. He forces the reader to confront the question of whether a poet’s moral character is—or should be—reflected in the quality of his work. The text argues that true wit must be tempered by good nature and that the "lust of praise" is a corrosive force that can ruin even the most talented individual. It is a defense of the common man of letters against the perceived arrogance of the high-minded elite.

Why Read It Today

Reading this today feels like sitting in the front row of a 1742 smackdown. If you have any interest in the history of English literature, or simply enjoy watching a clever underdog dismantle a pompous bully, you will find this surprisingly readable. Despite the 18th-century structure and occasional archaic references, Cibber’s prose is remarkably direct, biting, and funny.

The challenge, for a modern reader, lies in the context. You are entering a feud that has been cold for three hundred years, and some of the specific references to plays or minor figures of the time may require a moment of patience. However, the emotional core of the conflict—the frustration of being unfairly slandered and the catharsis of finally speaking one’s truth—is universal.

Cibber is not just writing a defense; he is writing a character study of a person who is clearly struggling to contain his own bitterness. What stays with you is the realization that history is often written by the people who hold the loudest pens. By giving the "dunce" a chance to speak, the book reminds us that the victims of great literature were real people with their own lives, their own jokes, and their own legitimate grievances against the icons we are taught to admire without question.