Another great reason for persons hesitating to make a trial is the revolution it would create in their households.  Here again we are beset by difficulties, and these difficulties can only disappear gradually, after long years of patience.  We believe the progress towards vegetarianism must of necessity be a very slow one.  No large West End tradesman could possibly insist upon his whole establishment becoming vegetarians because he becomes one himself.  We believe and hope that the present work will benefit those who are undergoing a slow but gradual change in their mode of living.  This is easiest in small households, where no servants are kept at all, where the mistress is both cook and mother.  It is in such households that the change is possible, and very often most desirable.  In many cases trial will be made gradually.  The great difficulty to contend with is prejudice, or, rather, we may say, habit.  There are many housekeepers who feel that their bill of fare would instantly become extremely limited were they to adopt vegetarian ideas.  There are few better dinners—­especially for children—­than a good basin of soup, with plenty of bread; yet, as a rule, there are few housekeepers who would know how to make vegetarian soup at all.  In our present work we have given a list of sixty-four soups.  At any rate, here is no lack of variety, as small housekeepers in this country are not famed for their knowledge of soup making, even with gravy-beef at their disposal.

On looking down this list it will be observed that in many cases cream—­or, at any rate, milk—­is recommended.  We can well imagine the housekeeper exclaiming, “I don’t call this economy.”  This is one point about which we consider a few words of explanation necessary.  We will suppose a family of eight, who have been accustomed to live in the ordinary way, are going to have a vegetarian dinner by way of trial.  Some soup has to be made, and one or two vegetables from the garden or the greengrocer’s, as the case may be, are going to be cooked on a new method, and the housekeeper is horrified at the amount of butter she finds recommended for the sauce.  People must, however, bear in mind that changes are gradual, and that often, at first starting, a degree of richness, or what they would consider extravagance, is advisable if they wish to reconcile others to the change.  In our dinner for eight we would first ask them how much meat would they have allowed a head?  At the very lowest computation, it could not have been decently done under a quarter of a pound each, even if the dish of meat took the economical form of an Irish stew; and had a joint, such as a leg of mutton, been placed upon the table, it would probably have been considerably more than double.  Supposing, however, instead of the meat, we have three vegetables—­say haricot beans, potatoes, and a cabbage.  With the assistance of some really good butter sauce, these vegetables, eaten with bread, make an agreeable meal, which, especially in hot weather,