would probably be a pleasant change.  Supposing, for the sake of argument, you use half a pound of butter in making the butter sauce.  This sounds, to ordinary cooks, very extravagant, even supposing butter to be only one shilling per pound.  Suppose, however, this half a pound of butter is used as a means of going without a leg of mutton?  That is the chief point to be borne in mind in a variety of recipes to follow.  The cream, butter, and eggs are often recommended in what will appear as wholesale quantities, but, as a set-off against this, you have no butcher’s bill at all.  We do not maintain that this apparently unlimited use of butter, eggs, and occasionally cream, is necessary; but we believe that there are many families who will be only able to make the change by substituting “nice” dishes, at any rate at first starting, to make up for the loss of the meat.  It is only by substituting a pleasant kind of food, that many will be induced even to attempt to change.  Gradually the living will become cheaper and cheaper; but it is unwise to attempt, in a family, to do too much at once.

There are many soups we have given in which cream is recommended; for instance, artichoke soup, bean soup, cauliflower soup, and celery soup.  After partaking of a well-made basin of one of these soups, followed by one or two vegetables and a fruit pie or stewed fruit, there are many persons who would voluntarily remark, “I don’t seem to care for any meat.”  On the other hand, were the vegetables served in the old-fashioned style, but without any meat, there are many who would feel that they were undergoing a species of privation, even if they did not say so—­we refer to a dish of plain-boiled potatoes and dry bread, or even the ordinary cabbage served in the usual way.  Supposing, however, a nice little new cabbage is sent to table, with plenty of really good white sauce or butter sauce, over which has been sprinkled a little bright green parsley, whilst some crisp fried bread surrounds the dish—­the cabbage is converted into a meal; and if we take into account the absence of the meat, we still save enormously.  The advice we would give, especially to young housekeepers, is, “Persuasion is better than force.”  If you wish to teach a child to swim, it is far easier to entice him into shallow water on a hot summer’s day than to throw him in against his will in winter time.

Another point which we consider of great importance is appearances.  As far as possible, we should endeavour to make the dishes look pretty.  We are appealing to a very large class throughout the country who at all cost wish to keep up appearances.  It is an important class, and one on which the slow but gradual march of civilisation depends.  We fear that any attempt to improve the extreme poor, who live surrounded by dirt and misery, would be hopeless, unless they still have some lingering feeling of this self-respect.  For the poor woman who snatches a meal off bread-and-dripping, which she eats without a table-cloth, and then repairs to the gin-shop to wash it down, nothing can be done.  This class will gradually die out as civilisation advances.  This is seen, even in the present day, in America.