it a little more, dish it up by the placing pieces in a circle and the turnips in the centre, sauce over, and serve very hot-(if not, it is spoiled.) For those that like it, a small piece of scraped garlic may be added. Onions, carrots, peas, &c., may be used in place of the turnips.

This is a very favourite dish in France; I learnt it from an old French émigré, who used to visit us about ten years since. When I have company, I use the chops of the neck, dress them in a crown, placing the vegetables in the centre; I find them very much liked. I have at some houses partaken of harico-mutton which has been tolerably good, but nothing in flavour to this plan. If there is any left, it is good warmed again, or even cold.

461. IRISH STEW.-Cut up about two pounds of the neck of the mutton into small cutlets, which put into a proper sized stewpan with some of the fat of the mutton, season it with half a tablespoonful of salt, a quarter of an ounce of pepper, the same of sugar, six middle-sized onions, a quart of water; set them to boil and simmer for half an hour, then add six middling-sized potatoes, cut them in halves or quarters, stir it together, and let it stew gently for about one hour longer; if too fat, remove it from the top, but if well done the potatoes will absorb all of it, and eat very delicate; any other part of the mutton may be served in the same way.

I hope, dearest

that you will not blame my apparent vulgar taste in saying that I am fond of an Irish stew, but I always recommend it to my friends; and often add a bay leaf to it, which varies the flavour.

LETTER No. XIV.

DEAREST ELOISE,-I certainly here must avail myself of M. Soyer's kind permission by taking from his "Gastronomic Regenerator" a very simple receipt, it is true, but one which, in my estimation, has a great deal more merit than that of a sumptuous dish-a new mutton chop; yes, Eloise, that is all. Many will very likely laugh at me, and think I am joking to take notice of a dish of such trifling importance, but, indeed, I assure you that I am far from that, because I have tried it for my dinner to-day, and in my opinion it is as far superior to the other as silver is to copper; and it is only in an enlightened era of wonders like ours, that such a novelty in the culinary department could have been produced; where steam, gas, railways, electric light, suspended bridges, which seem to fly like zephyrs across the bosom of our mighty, wealthy, old Father Thames, and the subterranean promenade under his gutta percha bed, where, as the French say, the fishes from their windows make faces at the English

while walking below, as well as (and more wonderful still) the electric telegraph, which, even more freely than free-trade itself, carries like lightning the flashes of a genius of a Cobden from our great commercial town of Manchester to Printing-house Square and various offices, the sparks of whose speech, if printers were careless, might set the paper on fire, by acquainting the metropolis not only of his love for freedom, but of his enthusiastic action, motion, commotion, and almost his thoughts; even the cheerings of the convives are actually in print, and read with the greatest anxiety by the multitude in town, while the report of the last and most powerful line just put to press is still roaring with echo throughout the vast cupola of the Free Trade Hall as well as in the ears of thousands of guests present, who have been favoured by partaking of the monster banquet; and as well but not so wonderful, the invention, insurrection, and demolition of the Chartists—the last effected by special order and special constables; the Satanic bottle, double sight, and ethérienne suspension of the inimitable Robert le Diable, by mistake called Robert Houdin; Banvard's Yankee cabinet picture, 3000 miles long, out of which 2999 and three quarters are out of sight; more so than all, the discovery of rocky dust, called gold, in the barbarian land of California, where the humble and convalescent potato would be worth its weight of the precious metal, a loaf of bread three times as much, and a basin of poor man's soup a guinea instead of a penny as here. Have we not also heard of the great sea serpent, which a very serious American, who appears to have been in company with him, says, that he was so tarnation long, that whilst engaged in dining out upon 4000 or 5000 turtles in Honduras, the end of his tail was at the same time hunting the white bear in the crystallized mountains of the North Pole for his supper, being something of an epicure, and consequently fond of a change! These, dearest, are FACTS that no one can deny, "I guess;" and still it was to be among all these marvellous wonders that the innovation of a new mutton chop should emanate from the brain of a simple individual, while, for a century previous, the ancestors of our great grandfathers were, as we were till the present day, often obliged to satisfy their voracious appetite with a fat and clumsy mutton chop. Even now, dear, you will hardly be able to comprehend the meaning of my enthusiasm for this simple innovation! it is then for its great simplicity and cheapness, and that if in general use (as I sincerely hope it will be), thousands will be able to partake of it and enjoy it, and probably will keep a friendly remembrance of the name of its inventor, because any one who invents, or tries so to do, attempts to conquer the greatest difficulty to obtain fame and wealth, and which by others is always envied and tried to be surpassed; such is the world. While here, the humble, unassuming, disinterested inventor of the said mutton chop will not even have the honour of opposition, though he may be copied. Believe me, dearest, that is the only cause of my admiration. Now for this wonder.

462. SOYER'S NEW MUTTON CHOP. Trim a middling-sized saddle of mutton, which cut into chops half an inch in thickness with a saw, without at all making use of a knife (the sawing them off jagging the meat and causing them to eat more tender), then trim them to the shape represented in the drawing, season well with salt and pepper, place them upon a gridiron over a sharp fire, turning them three or four times; they would require ten minutes cooking; when done, dress them upon a hot dish, spread a small piece of butter over each, (if approved of,) and serve: by adding half a tablespoonful of Soyer's Gentlemen's or Lady's Sauce to each chop when serving, and turning it over two or three times, an excellent entrée is produced: the bone keeping the gravy in whilst cooking, it is a very great advantage to have chops cut after this method. At home, when I have a saddle of mutton, I usually cut two or three such chops, which I broil, rub maître-d'hôtel butter over, and serve with fried potatoes round, using the remainder of the saddle the next day for a joint. The above are also very excellent, well seasoned and dipped into egg and bread-crumbs previous to broiling. Lamb chops may be cut precisely the same, but require a few minutes less broiling.

You must remark that, by this plan, the fat and lean are better divided, and you can enjoy both; whilst the other is a lump of meat near the bone and fat at the other end, which partly melts in cooking, and is often burnt by the flame it makes; the new one not being divided at the bone, keeps the gravy in admirably. If well sawed it should not weigh more than the ordinary one, being about half the thickness. Do try them, and let me

know your opinion.

Ever yours, HORTENSE.

LETTER No. XV.

DEAR HORTENSE,-Yours of last night was received at our supper-table, which was surrounded by a few of our best friends, and I need not tell you the merriment it created respecting your fantastic ideas of this age of wonders. A very sedate old gentleman, who happened to have met you at Mr. H.'s party about a week or two ago, and wished to be very courteous to you, (perhaps you did not notice his compliments,) not only would he not give a smile to our hearty laugh, but actually swore that such comical nonsense was very dangerous to expose before the public, and especially if we intended to give publicity to it with the receipts, the last of which he very much approved of. But respecting your fun on the review of our century,—“ A woman," said he, ought never to interfere with politics!" "Politics!" we all exclaimed, "where do you see anything political in it?" "In almost every word," replied he. "But in what part?" said we; "explain yourself?" Unfortunately our hero stuttered very much. "Now, it-it-it is not one ofof-of you here, perhaps, who-who-who a-a-a-ve been in ann-y pu-pu-public office like me in ma-ma-my youth. I was cla-cla-cla-clerk of the second cla-cla-clerk of the first cla-cla-cla-clerk of the private secretary's cla-clacla-clerk of the Home of-of-of-" Here, dear, we all burst out laughing, which made the old gentleman so mad, that he rushed from the room into the passage, to the street-door, and out of the house, without his hat, Welsh wig, great coat, and umbrella, while the servant had a regular race to get hold of him. She at last found him talking to himself under one of our willow-trees in the garden, coming back for his tackle with his two hands over his red wig, and his thick head underneath it. Being a wet night, after inquiring of the servant what he had said to her "Ma-ma-ma-rie," said he, "you are a ve-ve-ve-very good girl indeed, very good girl, and I-I-I-I am ve-ve-ve-very sorry I have no money with me to gi-gi-gi-gi-give you something for your trouble, especially as you will ne-ne-ne-never see me here again—no, ne-nenever. "Never mind, sir, about the money," said she to him, "I am no more disappointed than usual. Good night, sir." "Mary, you are a ve-ve-very sau-saucy huzzy, a ve-very saucy huzzy," was his answer. He then gradually disappeared in the fog. In a few seconds after, she heard some one sneezing most fearfully in the direction he was gone, which she believed to be our stuttering friend. So you see, dear, there is quite an event on a mutton chop. But let me tell you that, though your receipt came rather late, we still had some for supper, and very good they were; every one was delighted with them; in fact, we eat hardly anything else, being so comically introduced to us. I had them brought up at three different times, broiling hot from the gridiron. I made twelve chops out of a middlesized saddle of mutton, weighing about seven pounds:—is that right? and I have about three pounds of chump remaining, which, of course, I intend

making broth, Irish stew, or pies with. But, dearest, let us go through the remainder of the Receipts without any more interruption.

My husband begs to be kindly remembered to you both. Ever yours,

ELOISE.

463. MUTTON CUTLETS.-Trim a neck of mutton by cutting away the scrag and sawing off three inches of the ribbone, then cut about ten cutlets out of the neck, shape them by