The Argymunt by James Russell Lowell

It occupies a gray area. Lowell referred to the Biglow Papers as poems, but pieces like this one take the form of comic prose prefaces or mock-editorial notes in the persona of Hosea Biglow. You can view it as a satirical sketch that sets up the verse that follows. Its literary merit holds strong as a standalone piece of comic writing.

Lowell is capturing the spoken dialect of rural New England as he experienced it. He writes "argymunt" for argument, "orjunce" for audience, and "funattick" for phonetic — these spellings aim to convey the voice's sound in written form. Hosea supports this approach directly in the text, describing it as a means to liberate words from the rigid "prissen dress" of standard dictionary spelling.

William H. Seward served as Lincoln's Secretary of State and continued in that role under Andrew Johnson. Many Northerners viewed him as supporting Johnson's lenient approach to Reconstruction. Johnson, for his part, was widely disliked by Radical Republicans due to his vetoes of civil rights legislation and his opposition to Black suffrage. Lowell echoed these sentiments, and Hosea's humorous struggle to "git into" Johnson's head pokes fun at Johnson's perceived stubbornness and lack of insight.

"Pump lively" is a stage direction that Hosea includes whenever the imaginary speaker has nothing more to say. It evokes the physical act of pumping water — all effort with no assurance of getting anything out. This image perfectly captures political speeches that continue on just out of habit, rather than because anyone has anything meaningful to contribute.

Parson Wilbur is Hosea's fictional editor and mentor, a knowledgeable yet kind-hearted country clergyman who appears throughout the Biglow Papers as a contrast to Hosea's grittier style. Lowell created Wilbur to express more refined literary views. When discussing fresh air and natural writing, Lowell, via Wilbur, conveys his own aesthetic: good writing should feel like a breath of fresh air, not like a cloud of perfume.

"Cents" in this context reflects Hosea's unique spelling of sense. He suggests that as long as the meaning is conveyed, the spelling is irrelevant — the essence lies in the sense, while the spelling is merely "pummis" (pumice, the residue left after polishing). It's a clever argument emphasizing the importance of communication over traditional conventions.

Both at once—that's the trick. Hosea pokes fun at the long-windedness of academia and politics, but his final thoughts on Wilbur and fresh air present a well-considered defense of vernacular naturalism in literature. It’s an argument Mark Twain would famously echo a generation later. Lowell, a Harvard professor, intentionally wrote in dialect; his anti-intellectual stance is a deliberate act that conveys a genuine concept.

It's Hosea signing off with a promise that this piece won't have a sequel — a playful jab at serialized writing (and those lengthy speeches) that just don't know when to end. Considering the entire piece revolves around a speaker who can't wrap things up, the final "Nut to be continued" hits as the perfect punchline.