Essays on things — Story, Setting & Ideas

Breakfast as a Moral and Social Act

In the essay on breakfast, Phelps elevates the morning meal to a matter of character and domestic harmony. He insists that breakfast should be eaten in a 'calm and peaceful state of mind' and that reading the newspaper at table is a form of bad manners that has 'extinguished the fires of love.' He also condemns the practice of opening letters at breakfast, as one letter may contain 'worry, disappointment and anger' enough to poison the meal. The essay is filled with specific, almost fussy, rules: never eat in bed unless too sick to get up, never let a friend who has already eaten sit and watch you eat, and always take time to chew. Phelps’s voice is authoritative yet personal, drawing on his own habits and observations rather than on any external authority.

The Mother Tongue and the Shibboleth Test

The essay 'The Mother Tongue' opens with the biblical story of the Ephraimites who were slain because they could not pronounce 'shibboleth' correctly. Phelps uses this as a springboard to discuss the social and practical importance of language. He argues that pronunciation and word choice are not mere pedantry but markers of identity and belonging. The excerpt suggests that Phelps is concerned with how language functions in everyday life—as a tool for inclusion or exclusion, as a sign of education or class. He does not offer a systematic linguistic analysis but rather a series of observations rooted in his own experience as a teacher and public speaker. The essay reflects a broader theme in the collection: the small, concrete details of life that reveal larger truths about human nature.

The Range of Topics: From Sunrise to Spooks

The table of contents reveals an astonishing variety: 'Sunrise,' 'Molasses,' 'An Inspiring Cemetery,' 'The Devil,' 'What the Man Will Wear,' 'Dreams,' 'Hymns,' 'Spooks,' 'Trial by Jury,' and 'The Great American Game,' among others. This breadth suggests that Phelps’s method is to take any subject—no matter how trivial or grand—and turn it into an occasion for reflection. The essays are short, rarely more than a few pages, and each stands alone. The catalog subjects classify the work as 'American essays — 20th century,' and indeed the voice is distinctly American: direct, opinionated, and unafraid of humor. Yet the excerpts also show a writer deeply familiar with European culture, from Mentone to London to Paris. The collection resists easy summary; it is a miscellany held together by Phelps’s consistent persona.

Readers approaching Essays on Things should expect a series of short, self-contained pieces that reward dipping in at any point. Phelps’s voice is that of a well-read, worldly, and occasionally old-fashioned commentator. The essays are not arguments but conversations—sometimes with the reader, sometimes with himself. The most useful approach is to read slowly, letting each essay’s specific detail (a star, a cup of coffee, a mispronunciation) open onto broader reflection.

I finished Phelps's essays the other morning, and his careful, stubborn thoughts on ordinary things stayed with me through the day, much like a good conversation you don't quite leave. It made me think of his quieter companion, the Address delivered before the British Association assembled at Belfast — Story, Setting & Ideas, which asks for the same patient, unhurried attention. There is a certain comfort in that kind of mind.