Skip to content

PRELIMINARY MOTE by James Russell Lowell: Summary, Meaning & Analysis

James Russell Lowell

This isn't a poem; it's a mock-editorial preface—a humorous piece that Lowell crafted to introduce a series of satirical "spirit-rapped" Latin verses, which are said to be dictated by a deceased minister through the antics of a college student.

The poem
[In the month of February, 1866, the editors of the 'Atlantic Monthly' received from the Rev. Mr. Hitchcock of Jaalam a letter enclosing the macaronic verses which follow, and promising to send more, if more should be communicated. 'They were rapped out on the evening of Thursday last past,' he says, 'by what claimed to be the spirit of my late predecessor in the ministry here, the Rev. Dr. Wilbur, through the medium of a young man at present domiciled in my family. As to the possibility of such spiritual manifestations, or whether they be properly so entitled, I express no opinion, as there is a division of sentiment on that subject in the parish, and many persons of the highest respectability in social standing entertain opposing views. The young man who was improved as a medium submitted himself to the experiment with manifest reluctance, and is still unprepared to believe in the authenticity of the manifestations. During his residence with me his deportment has always been exemplary; he has been constant in his attendance upon our family devotions and the public ministrations of the Word, and has more than once privately stated to me, that the latter had often brought him under deep concern of mind. The table is an ordinary quadrupedal one, weighing about thirty pounds, three feet seven inches and a half in height, four feet square on the top, and of beech or maple, I am not definitely prepared to say which. It had once belonged to my respected predecessor, and had been, so far as I can learn upon careful inquiry, of perfectly regular and correct habits up to the evening in question. On that occasion the young man previously alluded to had been sitting with his hands resting carelessly upon it, while I read over to him at his request certain portions of my last Sabbath's discourse. On a sudden the rappings, as they are called, commenced to render themselves audible, at first faintly, but in process of time more distinctly and with violent agitation of the table. The young man expressed himself both surprised and pained by the wholly unexpected, and, so far as he was concerned, unprecedented occurrence. At the earnest solicitation, however, of several who happened to be present, he consented to go on with the experiment, and with the assistance of the alphabet commonly employed in similar emergencies, the following communication was obtained and written down immediately by myself. Whether any, and if so, how much weight should be attached to it, I venture no decision. That Dr. Wilbur had sometimes employed his leisure in Latin versification I have ascertained to be the case, though all that has been discovered of that nature among his papers consists of some fragmentary passages of a version into hexameters of portions of the Song of Solomon. These I had communicated about a week or ten days previous[ly] to the young gentleman who officiated as medium in the communication afterwards received. I have thus, I believe, stated all the material facts that have any elucidative bearing upon this mysterious occurrence.' So far Mr. Hitchcock, who seems perfectly master of Webster's unabridged quarto, and whose flowing style leads him into certain farther expatiations for which we have not room. We have since learned that the young man he speaks of was a sophomore, put under his care during a sentence of rustication from ---- College, where he had distinguished himself rather by physical experiments on the comparative power of resistance in window-glass to various solid substances, than in the more regular studies of the place. In answer to a letter of inquiry, the professor of Latin says, 'There was no harm in the boy that I know of beyond his loving mischief more than Latin, nor can I think of any spirits likely to possess him except those commonly called animal. He was certainly not remarkable for his Latinity, but I see nothing in the verses you enclose that would lead me to think them beyond his capacity, or the result of any special inspiration whether of beech or maple. Had that of _birch_ been tried upon him earlier and more faithfully, the verses would perhaps have been better in quality and certainly in quantity.' This exact and thorough scholar then goes on to point out many false quantities and barbarisms. It is but fair to say, however, that the author, whoever he was, seems not to have been unaware of some of them himself, as is shown by a great many notes appended to the verses as we received them, and purporting to be by Scaliger, Bentley, and others,--among them the _Esprit de Voltaire_! These we have omitted as clearly meant to be humorous and altogether failing therein. Though entirely satisfied that the verses are altogether unworthy of Mr. Wilbur, who seems to Slave been a tolerable Latin scholar after the fashion of his day, yet we have determined to print them here, partly as belonging to the _res gestæ_ of this collection, and partly as a warning to their putative author which may keep him from such indecorous pranks for the future.]

Public domain · sourced from Project Gutenberg

Quick summary
This isn't a poem; it's a mock-editorial preface—a humorous piece that Lowell crafted to introduce a series of satirical "spirit-rapped" Latin verses, which are said to be dictated by a deceased minister through the antics of a college student. Lowell is pulling an elaborate prank: he creates a pompous small-town reverend, a rustic sophomore, and a haunted table to parody both the Spiritualist craze and the rigid scholarship of New England. The entire work is a deadpan hoax wrapped in the language of serious Victorian propriety.
Themes

Line-by-line

In the month of February, 1866, the editors of the 'Atlantic Monthly' received from the Rev. Mr. Hitchcock of Jaalam a letter…
Lowell begins by adopting the voice of an Atlantic Monthly editor who has received a letter from a fictional clergyman, Rev. Hitchcock, hailing from the imaginary town of Jaalam. This mock-journalistic framing sets up the first layer of the humor, as it parodies the sincere editorial notes that genuine magazines of the time employed to validate unconventional contributions.
'They were rapped out on the evening of Thursday last past,' he says, 'by what claimed to be the spirit of my late predecessor…'
Hitchcock recounts a table-rapping séance — a real sensation in 1860s America — where the ghost of a former minister supposedly dictated Latin verses. Lowell pokes fun at Spiritualism by showing a clergyman approaching it with cautious neutrality instead of outright dismissal, subtly critiquing the wishy-washy indecisiveness of respectable society.
The table is an ordinary quadrupedal one, weighing about thirty pounds, three feet seven inches and a half in height…
This is the comic centerpiece of the preface. Hitchcock details the séance table with the exactness of a legal deposition—its weight, dimensions, and wood type—almost as if its everyday nature is meant to validate something. The humor lies in the fact that the more he meticulously describes it, the more ridiculous the entire endeavor appears.
On a sudden the rappings, as they are called, commenced to render themselves audible…
The bureaucratic language ('commenced to render themselves audible') serves as a continuous stylistic joke. Lowell is poking fun at how educated Victorians often obscured nonsense with the guise of precise observation and scientific objectivity.
So far Mr. Hitchcock, who seems perfectly master of Webster's unabridged quarto…
Here, the 'editor' voice playfully pokes fun at Hitchcock's wordy style — a man who has clearly read the dictionary and plans to use every word in it. This layer, where one fictional character comments on another, adds depth to the satire.
We have since learned that the young man he speaks of was a sophomore, put under his care during a sentence of rustication…
The reveal: the 'medium' turns out to be a college student who’s more into breaking windows than hitting the books. The professor's dry comment—that some earlier corporal punishment might have actually improved the quality and quantity of the verses—is the funniest line in the piece.
Though entirely satisfied that the verses are altogether unworthy of Mr. Wilbur… yet we have determined to print them here…
The editors conclude by acknowledging that the verses are poor yet choose to publish them as a warning to the student. This is Lowell's last playful nod: the intricate setup of reverends, professors, and footnotes is all meant to present a purposely subpar Latin parody, and everyone in the mix is aware of this.

Tone & mood

Deadpan and comic throughout, Lowell maintains a perfectly straight editorial face while stacking absurdity upon absurdity — the pompous reverend, the meticulous table measurements, the hesitant sophomore medium. The humor leans towards the dry side instead of being broad, targeting readers who will pick up on the jabs at Spiritualism, academic pretentiousness, and the self-importance often found in small-town New England.

Symbols & metaphors

  • The tableThe séance table, detailed with an almost comical level of bureaucratic accuracy, represents the entire Spiritualist movement — mundane, homely, and completely unmagical, yet seen by believers as a gateway to the supernatural.
  • The rusticated sophomoreThe student who was expelled for breaking windows embodies youthful mischief cloaked in spiritual mystery. He is the true 'spirit' behind the verses — human, bored, and pulling a prank.
  • The birch rodThe professor's mention of birch (a switch used for corporal punishment) represents traditional discipline and strictness, highlighting the difference from the lenient modern attitude that let the student's prank thrive.
  • Latin verseThe macaronic Latin poetry that is said to be dictated by the ghost of a dead minister reflects the pretensions of New England's scholarly culture, using classical learning to add weight to what is essentially just a schoolboy joke.
  • Rev. Dr. WilburThe fictional deceased minister serves as Lowell's ongoing satirical voice in the *Biglow Papers* series. In this context, his ghost represents the burden of respected tradition that the living take advantage of and ridicule.

Historical context

James Russell Lowell wrote this preface for the second series of his *Biglow Papers* in 1867, a collection he had been crafting since the 1840s. In it, he used the fictional town of Jaalam, along with its ministers, editors, and locals, as a platform for his political and social satire. During the 1860s, the Spiritualist movement, with its table-rapping, séances, and spirit mediums, was hugely popular in the U.S., and Lowell, a Harvard professor and co-founder of the *Atlantic Monthly*, was not shy about his disdain for it. The preface also pokes fun at the world of academic Latin scholarship, a realm Lowell was quite familiar with. By creating various fictional narrators—a reverend, an editor, and a Latin professor—he crafts a humorous hall of mirrors, allowing him to critique multiple subjects simultaneously while maintaining the guise of serious editorial integrity.

FAQ

It serves as a prose preface to a poem, rather than being a poem itself. Lowell created it as a mock-editorial introduction to a collection of satirical Latin verses. The 'Preliminary Mote' acts as the frame, not the picture — yet it frequently finds its way into anthologies and is examined independently due to the skillful comedy it contains.

Similar poems