MANY LITERARY, LEARNED, AND SCIENTIFIC SOCIETIES, by James Russell Lowell: Summary, Meaning & Analysis
This brief work by James Russell Lowell serves as a satirical dedication — a tongue-in-cheek address to the numerous learned and literary societies of his time.
The poem
(_for which see page 227_.) The ploughman's whistle, or the trivial flute, Finds more respect than great Apollo's lute. _Quarles's Emblems_, B. ii. E. 8. Margaritas, munde porcine, calcasti: en, siliquas accipe. _Jac. Car. Fil. ad Pub. Leg._ Section 1.
This brief work by James Russell Lowell serves as a satirical dedication — a tongue-in-cheek address to the numerous learned and literary societies of his time. With two epigraphs, one in English and the other in Latin, Lowell crafts a joke: the esteemed institutions he claims to "honor" have crushed genuine art and knowledge underfoot, so they merit only scraps in return. It’s a clever, dry jab at cultural gatekeepers who confuse reputation with true wisdom.
Line-by-line
The ploughman's whistle, or the trivial flute, / Finds more respect than great Apollo's lute.
Margaritas, munde porcine, calcasti: en, siliquas accipe.
Tone & mood
Lowell has a dry, sardonic sense of humor and a playful self-deprecation that makes his delivery sharp. He maintains a straight face as he throws out a pointed insult — the entire piece feels like a formal bow that doubles as a dismissal. While there’s real irritation beneath the wit, the humor prevents it from crossing into bitterness.
Symbols & metaphors
- Apollo's lute — Represents true poetic and artistic excellence—the highest benchmark for creative achievement. Its neglect in favor of the ploughman's whistle reflects a disappointing lack of taste among those who ought to appreciate it.
- Pearls (margaritas) — A clear reflection of the Biblical phrase "pearls before swine." In this context, pearls symbolize significant literary and intellectual contributions that learned societies have overlooked or deliberately rejected.
- Husks (siliquas) — The husks given to pigs in the parable of the Prodigal Son are presented by Lowell as a replacement for the wasted pearls — a suitable outcome, he suggests, for institutions unable to distinguish between the two.
- The ploughman's whistle / trivial flute — Represents work that is low-effort, unambitious, or designed to please the crowd — the sort of thing that earns easy applause because it asks little from its audience.
Historical context
James Russell Lowell (1819–1891) was a key figure in American literature during the nineteenth century—he was a poet, critic, editor of *The Atlantic Monthly*, and later, a diplomat. Known for his sharp satire, he gained fame with *A Fable for Critics* (1848), where he humorously critiqued the American literary scene with both affection and brutal honesty. The piece appears to be a mock dedication, likely rooted in the same satirical vein, aimed at the academic and literary societies that held sway over cultural life in Boston and beyond. These societies—known for handing out medals, giving speeches, and patting themselves on the back for their sophistication—became easy targets for Lowell, who felt that true literary merit often had little to do with institutional accolades. The two epigraphs do the heavy lifting here: one from the seventeenth-century English emblem-writer Francis Quarles and the other in mock-scholarly Latin, both conveying a similar message about pearls and swine.
FAQ
You’re spot on with that observation. It acts as a satirical mock-dedication — a form of ironic prefatory address that was well-known in Lowell's time. The humor lies in the contrast between the lofty, formal title and the disparaging content of the two epigraphs. Lowell is dedicating a work *to* these societies while also implying that they don’t deserve good art.
It translates to: "You have trampled on pearls, swinish world — here, take husks instead." *Margaritas* refers to pearls, *munde porcine* translates to "swinish world," *calcasti* means "you have trampled," *en* means "here" or "behold," *siliquas* denotes husks or pods (the pig-food from the Prodigal Son parable), and *accipe* translates to "take" or "receive."
It’s likely a joke. *Jac. Car. Fil.* can be interpreted as "James, Son of Charles," referencing King James II of England, who was the son of Charles I. Meanwhile, *ad Pub. Leg.* could mean "to the Public Reader" or "to the Public Law." The exaggerated, faux-scholarly citation adds to the satire, imitating the overly footnoted style of the scholarly societies being mocked.
It originates from *Emblems, Divine and Moral* (1635) by Francis Quarles, specifically Book II, Emblem 8. Quarles was a well-known English religious poet of the seventeenth century. His *Emblems* combined engraved images with thoughtful verses. The line that Lowell quotes expresses a frustration that crass noise receives more praise than genuine art — a sentiment that was already familiar in Quarles’s era and which Lowell cleverly uses to suit his own satirical aims.
It references two passages from the New Testament. "Casting pearls before swine" is found in Matthew 7:6, where Jesus cautions against giving sacred things to those who won't appreciate them. The husks (*siliquas*) are drawn from the parable of the Prodigal Son in Luke 15:16, where the impoverished son yearns to eat the husks that pigs are fed. Together, these elements illustrate wasted excellence and a diminished appetite.
The text mentions "page 227," indicating that it probably comes from a dedication in a larger book—likely one of Lowell's satirical or collected works. The humor lies in the fact that instead of a traditional dedication, we get just a page reference. It’s as if the real insult is too detailed to share here, leaving you to hunt it down on your own.
In nineteenth-century America, particularly in Boston, these societies wielded significant cultural influence. They determined what qualified as literature, who received awards, and whose reputations flourished or faltered. Lowell, even as a Harvard professor and Atlantic editor, was quite critical of institutional preferences. He believed that committees and academies often favored safe, respectable mediocrity instead of true originality — which aligns perfectly with the messages of both epigraphs.
Both, really. The surface is filled with wit and a mock-formal tone, but there's a genuine edge beneath it all. Lowell truly believed that American cultural institutions often failed to recognize quality work, and that frustration seeps through the humor. It's like saying something with a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.