Two Poems Against Pope: One Epistle to Mr. A. Pope and the Blatant Beast

In Short

This collection presents two hostile pamphlets, One Epistle to Mr. A. Pope (1730) by Leonard Welsted and the anonymous The Blatant Beast (1740). These works serve as primary evidence of the "Battle of the Dunces," a decades-long conflict between Alexander Pope and a sprawling network of writers he famously ridiculed. By examining these rare, ephemeral attacks, the reader gains a vivid sense of the brutal, ad hominem nature of Augustan literary criticism and the deep-seated class and economic anxieties that fueled such public, poetic feuds.

The Story

The narrative arc of these poems is one of sustained, systematic character assassination. In One Epistle, Leonard Welsted adopts the role of a wronged defender of literary integrity. He frames his attack as a righteous response to the insults Pope leveled against his contemporaries in The Dunciad. Welsted’s approach is to dismantle Pope’s reputation by attacking his methods, his ethics, and his character. He accuses Pope of being a "plunderer" of better poets, a hypocrite who mocks the very classical traditions he claims to uphold, and a man driven by "malice and avarice" rather than artistic inspiration. The poem moves through a series of accusations, suggesting that Pope’s success is built upon theft and the exploitation of his social and professional connections.

A decade later, The Blatant Beast escalates this hostility. Where Welsted focused heavily on literary merit and perceived slights, the anonymous author of this later work leans into the physical and moral vilification of Pope. Drawing on a decade of accumulated grievances, the poem portrays Pope as a monstrous, serpentine figure—a "Blatant Beast"—who thrives on slander. The text systematically attacks Pope’s physical stature, his alleged greed, his perceived treachery toward friends, and his habit of using poetry as a weapon of mass destruction against his peers.

The trajectory of both works is relentless. They do not seek to engage in a debate about aesthetic principles; rather, they aim to expose Pope as a moral void. The poems argue that his brilliance is merely a mask for a deformed and envious spirit. Both works conclude by asserting that Pope’s influence is a poison to the literary world, a "mildew" on the growth of fame. They call for him to be cast out from the company of true poets, framing his entire career as an exercise in vanity. The story ends, in effect, with the authors projecting their own frustrations onto a figure they depict as a public menace, ultimately revealing less about Pope’s failings than about the depth of resentment felt by the "Dunces" who labored in his shadow.

How It Unfolds

The call to arms Welsted begins by positioning himself as an aggrieved party, defending the dignity of writers whom Pope has insulted. He frames his assault as a necessary act of public service against a man he views as a hypocritical bully.

The dissection of talent The poetry shifts to a technical critique, dismissing Pope’s verse as "smooth dull unity of sound." The author alleges that Pope’s poetic skill is merely the result of pilfering lines from Dryden, Chapman, and others.

The personal descent The focus transitions from literature to the target's physical and moral character. The Blatant Beast introduces images of wasps and monsters, explicitly mocking Pope’s physical deformity as a reflection of his inner corruption.

The final judgment The collection closes with a call for poetic justice, suggesting that Pope’s arrogance will eventually lead to his downfall. The authors leave the reader with the image of a man isolated by his own malice, finally rejected by the "true" poets he sought to dominate.

The People

The central figures are Alexander Pope and his army of "Dunces." Pope represents the successful, wealthy, and intellectually arrogant satirist whose work defined the age. His detractors—including Leonard Welsted, the primary voice in One Epistle—position themselves as the "regular troops" of literature, standing against a man they claim has commercialized art and sacrificed human decency for professional dominance. These writers, often labeled as hack-poets by Pope, view him as a "low-born wretch" who has climbed to power through flattery and treachery. They are driven by a mixture of genuine artistic grievance and deep-seated class resentment. By the end of these pamphlets, the figures remain locked in their respective roles: Pope as the untouchable, waspish genius, and his attackers as the chorus of the forgotten, desperate to tear down the stature of a man they believe has stolen the very laurel they crave.

In Its Own Voice

Regarding Pope's reputation for technical mastery, the text dismisses it as a lack of true substance:

"P--pe's Reputation for versifying is a vulgar Error, founded only on discreet Theft: Half a Line from Mr. Dryden's Conquest of Mexico, and another from his Translation of Virgil, have seemingly made tolerable Music, when join'd in his Works; but Music of the Morocco Kind, which has but one Note."

The author of The Blatant Beast uses a vivid metaphor to describe Pope's tendency to attack those who do not align with his views:

"So have I seen a Dog distracted roam; / He bites, he snaps at all, disgorging Foam."

What It's Really About

At its core, this volume is an inquiry into the volatile intersection of merit, wealth, and ego. It probes the ethical boundaries of satire, asking when a biting critique crosses the line into a cruel, unprovoked libel. These pamphlets raise questions about the ownership of tradition and the legitimacy of "professional" writing in a society transitioning toward a commercial literary market. They explore the vulnerability of the public intellectual, illustrating how success inevitably invites envy. Ultimately, the works are a study of the resentment felt by those who feel excluded from the centers of power, and they demonstrate how the act of writing can become a desperate, clawing struggle for relevance.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the history of literature or the psychology of conflict will find this collection fascinating. It provides a rare, "behind-the-scenes" look at the vitriol that accompanied the creation of the great Augustan masterpieces. To read these pamphlets is to experience the raw, unfiltered fury of eighteenth-century polemics, which feel surprisingly modern in their focus on ad hominem attacks and the questioning of an author's "authentic" self.

The book is not always an easy read; the language is dense with period-specific references, and the verse, as the authors themselves occasionally admit, can be uneven. You will encounter attitudes toward physical disability and social status that are starkly different from contemporary norms, serving as a reminder of the "coarser" age in which these words were written. However, the reward is an intimate look at a foundational literary feud. It stays with you as a testament to the power of words to wound, reminding us that even the most celebrated figures in history were once just targets in an endless, echoing war of letters. It is an essential primary document for anyone seeking to understand the human side of the literary canon.