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SHOWING WHAT IS MEANT BY A FLOW OF SPIRITS by James Russell Lowell: Summary, Meaning & Analysis

James Russell Lowell

This poem is a lengthy comic segment from Lowell's satirical narrative *A Fable for Critics*, which actually comes from his *The Biglow Papers* period.

The poem
At first the ghosts were somewhat shy, Coming when none but Knott was nigh, And people said 'twas all their eye, (Or rather his) a flam, the sly Digestion's machination: Some recommended a wet sheet, Some a nice broth of pounded peat, Some a cold flat-iron to the feet, Some a decoction of lamb's-bleat, Some a southwesterly grain of wheat; 310 Meat was by some pronounced unmeet, Others thought fish most indiscreet, And that 'twas worse than all to eat Of vegetables, sour or sweet, (Except, perhaps, the skin of beet,) In such a concatenation: One quack his button gently plucks And murmurs, 'Biliary ducks!' Says Knott, 'I never ate one;' But all, though brimming full of wrath, 320 Homoeo, Allo, Hydropath, Concurred in this--that t'other's path To death's door was the straight one. Still, spite of medical advice, The ghosts came thicker, and a spice Of mischief grew apparent; Nor did they only come at night, But seemed to fancy broad daylight, Till Knott, in horror and affright, His unoffending hair rent; 330 Whene'er with handkerchief on lap, He made his elbow-chair a trap, To catch an after-dinner nap, The spirits, always on the tap, Would make a sudden _rap, rap, rap,_ The half-spun cord of sleep to snap, (And what is life without its nap But threadbareness and mere mishap?) 338 As 'twere with a percussion cap The trouble's climax capping; It seemed a party dried and grim Of mummies had come to visit him, Each getting off from every limb Its multitudinous wrapping; Scratchings sometimes the walls ran round, The merest penny-weights of sound; Sometimes 'twas only by the pound They carried on their dealing, A thumping 'neath the parlor floor, Thump-bump-thump-bumping o'er and o'er, 350 As if the vegetables in store (Quiet and orderly before) Were all together peeling; You would have thought the thing was done By the spirit of some son of a gun, And that a forty-two-pounder, Or that the ghost which made such sounds Could be none other than John Pounds, Of Ragged Schools the founder. Through three gradations of affright, 360 The awful noises reached their height; At first they knocked nocturnally, Then, for some reason, changing quite, (As mourners, after six months' flight, Turn suddenly from dark to light,) Began to knock diurnally, And last, combining all their stocks, (Scotland was ne'er so full of Knox,) Into one Chaos (father of Nox,) _Nocte pluit_--they showered knocks, 370 And knocked, knocked, knocked, eternally; Ever upon the go, like buoys, (Wooden sea-urchins,) all Knott's joys, They turned to troubles and a noise That preyed on him internally. Soon they grew wider in their scope; Whenever Knott a door would ope, It would ope not, or else elope And fly back (curbless as a trope Once started down a stanza's slope 380 By a bard that gave it too much rope--) Like a clap of thunder slamming: And, when kind Jenny brought his hat, (She always, when he walked, did that,) Just as upon his heart it sat, Submitting to his settling pat, Some unseen hand would jam it flat, Or give it such a furious bat That eyes and nose went cramming Up out of sight, and consequently, 390 As when in life it paddled free, His beaver caused much damning; If these things seem o'erstrained to be, Read the account of Doctor Dee, 'Tis in our college library: Read Wesley's circumstantial plea, And Mrs. Crowe, more like a bee, Sucking the nightshade's honeyed fee, And Stilling's Pneumatology; Consult Scot, Glanvil, grave Wie- 400 rus and both Mathers; further see, Webster, Casaubon, James First's trea- tise, a right royal Q.E.D. Writ with the moon in perigee, Bodin de la Demonomanie-- (Accent that last line gingerly) All full of learning as the sea Of fishes, and all disagree, Save in _Sathanas apage!_ Or, what will surely put a flea 410 In unbelieving ears--with glee, Out of a paper (sent to me By some friend who forgot to P ... A ... Y ...--I use cryptography Lest I his vengeful pen should dree-- His P ...O ...S ...T ...A ...G ...E ...) Things to the same effect I cut, About the tantrums of a ghost, Not more than three weeks since, at most, Near Stratford, in Connecticut. 420 Knott's Upas daily spread its roots, Sent up on all sides livelier shoots, And bore more pestilential fruits; The ghosts behaved like downright brutes, They snipped holes in his Sunday suits, Practised all night on octave flutes, Put peas (not peace) into his boots, Whereof grew corns in season, They scotched his sheets, and, what was worse, Stuck his silk nightcap full of burrs, 430 Till he, in language plain and terse, (But much unlike a Bible verse,) Swore he should lose his reason. The tables took to spinning, too, Perpetual yarns, and arm-chairs grew To prophets and apostles; One footstool vowed that only he Of law and gospel held the key, That teachers of whate'er degree To whom opinion bows the knee 440 Weren't fit to teach Truth's _a b c_, And were (the whole lot) to a T Mere fogies all and fossils; A teapoy, late the property Of Knox's Aunt Keziah, (Whom Jenny most irreverently Had nicknamed her aunt-tipathy) With tips emphatic claimed to be The prophet Jeremiah; The tins upon the kitchen-wall, 450 Turned tintinnabulators all, And things that used to come to call For simple household services Began to hop and whirl and prance, Fit to put out of countenance The _Commís_ and _Grisettes_ of France Or Turkey's dancing Dervises. Of course such doings, far and wide, With rumors filled the countryside, And (as it is our nation's pride 460 To think a Truth not verified Till with majorities allied) Parties sprung up, affirmed, denied, And candidates with questions plied, Who, like the circus-riders, tried At once both hobbies to bestride, And each with his opponent vied In being inexplicit. Earnest inquirers multiplied; Folks, whose tenth cousins lately died, 470 Wrote letters long, and Knott replied; All who could either walk or ride Gathered to wonder or deride, And paid the house a visit; Horses were to his pine-trees tied, Mourners in every corner sighed, Widows brought children there that cried. Swarms of lean Seekers, eager-eyed, (People Knott never could abide,) Into each hole and cranny pried 480 With strings of questions cut and dried From the Devout Inquirer's Guide, For the wise spirits to decide-- As, for example, is it True that the damned are fried or boiled? Was the Earth's axis greased or oiled? Who cleaned the moon when it was soiled? How baldness might be cured or foiled? How heal diseased potatoes? Did spirits have the sense of smell? 490 Where would departed spinsters dwell? If the late Zenas Smith were well? If Earth were solid or a shell? Were spirits fond of Doctor Fell? _Did_ the bull toll Cock-Robin's knell? What remedy would bugs expel? If Paine's invention were a sell? Did spirits by Webster's system spell? Was it a sin to be a belle? Did dancing sentence folks to hell? 500 If so, then where most torture fell? On little toes or great toes? If life's true seat were in the brain? Did Ensign mean to marry Jane? By whom, in fact, was Morgan slain? Could matter ever suffer pain? What would take out a cherry-stain? Who picked the pocket of Seth Crane, Of Waldo precinct, State, of Maine? Was Sir John Franklin sought in vain? 510 Did primitive Christians ever train? What was the family-name of Cain? Them spoons, were they by Betty ta'en? Would earth-worm poultice cure a sprain? Was Socrates so dreadful plain? What teamster guided Charles's wain? Was Uncle Ethan mad or sane, And could his will in force remain? If not, what counsel to retain? Did Le Sage steal Gil Blas from Spain? 520 Was Junius writ by Thomas Paine? Were ducks discomforted by rain? _How_ did Britannia rule the main? Was Jonas coming back again? Was vital truth upon the wane? Did ghosts, to scare folks, drag a chain? Who was our Huldah's chosen swain? Did none have teeth pulled without payin', Ere ether was invented? Whether mankind would not agree, 530 If the universe were tuned in C? What was it ailed Lucindy's knee? Whether folks eat folks in Feejee? Whether _his_ name would end with T? If Saturn's rings were two or three, And what bump in Phrenology They truly represented? These problems dark, wherein they groped, Wherewith man's reason vainly coped, Now that the spirit-world was oped, 540 In all humility they hoped Would be resolved _instanter_; Each of the miscellaneous rout Brought his, or her, own little doubt. And wished to pump the spirits out, Through his or her own private spout, Into his or her decanter.

Public domain · sourced from Project Gutenberg

Quick summary
This poem is a lengthy comic segment from Lowell's satirical narrative *A Fable for Critics*, which actually comes from his *The Biglow Papers* period. It follows a hapless man named Knott who is disturbed by increasingly boisterous ghosts. What starts with timid knocking escalates to a point where they ruin his sleep, crush his hat, spin his tables, and attract a circus of nosy neighbors eager to ask the dead absurd questions. Lowell uses this ridiculous scenario to poke fun at the mid-19th-century obsession with Spiritualism and the gullibility of those who believed that rapping tables could reveal life’s greatest secrets.
Themes

Line-by-line

At first the ghosts were somewhat shy, / Coming when none but Knott was nigh,
The ghosts begin as shy apparitions, only showing themselves when Knott is by himself. Skeptics quickly dismiss them as just indigestion, while a swarm of dubious doctors jumps in with conflicting remedies — wet sheets, cold irons, pounded peat — each one confidently recommending something completely different from the last. The irony is that the doctors create more confusion than the ghosts themselves.
Still, spite of medical advice, / The ghosts came thicker, and a spice
Ignoring all the medical chatter, the ghosts become more active. They begin showing up in broad daylight and disrupt Knott's after-dinner nap with loud rapping — and Lowell adds a quick lament that life without naps hardly seems worth living. The knocking sounds like a percussion cap going off, and the entire scene feels like a party where mummies are being unwrapped.
Scratchings sometimes the walls ran round, / The merest penny-weights of sound;
The haunting unfolds in three phases: first, there are soft scratchings, then loud thumps beneath the parlor floor—so intense it feels as if vegetables are peeling themselves. Lowell plays with the words 'Knox' and 'Nox' (night) and throws in a Latin phrase to poke fun at the pretentiousness of ghost-hunters. The noise transforms into a relentless, gnawing presence that consumes Knott from within.
Soon they grew wider in their scope; / Whenever Knott a door would ope,
The poltergeist activity becomes both physical and comical. Doors slam shut on their own, and an invisible hand keeps pushing Knott's hat down over his face. Lowell then shifts to a tongue-in-cheek bibliography — Doctor Dee, John Wesley, the Mathers, Bodin — a collection of well-known ghost literature experts who all have differing opinions, except for one agreement: the devil should be told to take a hike.
Knott's Upas daily spread its roots, / Sent up on all sides livelier shoots,
The haunting is now likened to the Upas tree, a mythical poison tree that spreads and produces rotten fruit. The ghosts turn into real bullies: cutting holes in his Sunday clothes, playing flutes all night, and stuffing his boots with peas and his nightcap with burrs. Knott finally loses it and swears — using language that’s definitely not biblical — that he’s losing his mind.
The tables took to spinning, too, / Perpetual yarns, and arm-chairs grew
Furniture joins the rebellion. Tables spin—this is a clear jab at the Spiritualist parlor trick of table-turning. Armchairs take on the role of apostles, a footstool proclaims itself the sole keeper of truth, and a teapoy asserts it is the prophet Jeremiah. Kitchen tins ring out like bells, and various household objects launch into a wild dance. This satire critiques how Spiritualist séances led everyday people to interpret random noises and movements as messages from the divine.
Of course such doings, far and wide, / With rumors filled the countryside,
Word spreads, and soon the public gathers at Knott's house. Lowell critiques American democratic culture: truth only seems to matter when it's backed by a majority, politicians play both sides of the ghost debate, and earnest seekers flock in large numbers. Widows arrive with crying children, mourners sigh in the shadows, and everyone ties their horses to Knott's pine trees. The haunted house transforms into a chaotic mix of politics and social spectacle.
Swarms of lean Seekers, eager-eyed, / (People Knott never could abide,)
This is the poem's comic climax: a lengthy, breathless list of absurd questions that visitors ask the spirits. Are the damned fried or boiled? Who cleaned the moon? How do you fix baldness? Was Socrates ugly? Did a bull ring Cock Robin's death knell? The questions vary from the serious to the silly, and even to the local gossip, highlighting how people view the spirit world as a universal search engine for their own trivial curiosities. Each person seems eager to draw from the ghosts, pouring their inquiries into their own private decanter — a perfect illustration of self-centered credulity.

Tone & mood

Gleefully satirical from start to finish, Lowell writes with the kind of humor that genuinely finds human foolishness amusing rather than disheartening. The tone is quick, full of puns, and unyielding — he layers rhymes six and seven deep, tosses in mock-Latin, and seamlessly transitions between slapstick physical comedy and keen social commentary. Beneath the mockery lies a sense of warmth; Knott emerges as a sympathetic figure even as the poem chuckles at the chaotic world surrounding him.

Symbols & metaphors

  • The knocking / rappingThe main symbol that Lowell is mocking represents the entire Spiritualist movement. The Fox Sisters' iconic 'spirit raps' from 1848 sparked a nationwide frenzy, and Lowell exaggerates the knocking into an ever-increasing absurdity to highlight just how flimsy the evidence for the supernatural truly was.
  • The spinning tables and prophetic furnitureTable-turning was a common activity during séances, where participants believed that spirits could move the furniture. By having a footstool proclaim itself the only keeper of truth and a teapoy insist it was Jeremiah, Lowell humorously highlights how easily people attributed significant spiritual authority to everyday objects.
  • The decanterIn the final image, each visitor aims to pour the spirits from their private spout into their personal decanter. The decanter represents individual ego — everyone seeks the spirit world to validate their own unique anxieties and curiosities, rather than pursuing any common or real truth.
  • The Upas treeThe Upas was a mythical tree in Southeast Asia believed to poison everything nearby. Lowell uses this imagery to illustrate how the haunting infiltrates and taints Knott's entire existence, as well as how a belief in the supernatural, once established, continues to grow and produce harmful outcomes.
  • The mock-scholarly bibliographyThe extensive list of ghost-literature authorities (Dee, Wesley, Glanvil, the Mathers, Bodin, etc.) represents a façade of intellectual legitimacy. Lowell demonstrates that simply accumulating notable names doesn’t lead to consensus or truth — all these authorities conflict, except for the shared belief that the devil should be expelled.
  • Knott's hatThe hat shoved down over Knott's face serves as a recurring slapstick image of the supernatural turning the everyday man into a fool. It also symbolizes the dignity that gets repeatedly crushed — each time Knott attempts to gather himself and carry on with his day, the ghosts bring him down again.

Historical context

Lowell wrote this poem in the early 1850s, during the height of the American Spiritualism movement that began after the Fox Sisters in upstate New York claimed they could communicate with the dead through mysterious rapping sounds in 1848. Within a few years, séances, table-turning, and spirit mediums became a widespread phenomenon, drawing everyone from grieving widows to serious intellectuals. As a Harvard-educated poet, editor, and social critic, Lowell had a keen eye for American trends and self-deception. This poem fits within the same satirical tradition as his *Biglow Papers*, where he used humor to challenge inflated ideas. The poem's mock-scholarly footnotes and its list of actual ghost-literature authors (like John Dee, the Mathers, and Joseph Glanvil) reveal that Lowell had genuinely engaged with the literature he was poking fun at, which sharpens the satire. The questions the visitors pose to the spirits—ranging from theological to local gossip—offer a precise portrait of how everyday Americans interacted with Spiritualism, treating it like a supernatural advice column.

FAQ

It follows a man named Knott, who finds himself troubled by increasingly intrusive ghosts. The haunting begins with gentle knocks, grows to loud door slams and damaged hats, and culminates in the entire neighborhood showing up at his house to ask the spirits absurd questions. At its core, the story critiques the 1850s American Spiritualism fad, which Lowell viewed as a blend of deception, hopeful thinking, and widespread naivety.

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