AMONG the common things to the teaching of which public attention is now so strongly directed, it is to be hoped that the art of cookery—one of the commonest, and yet, apparently, one of the most difficult and neglected of all—will not be forgotten. The instruction of the female peasantry in this useful art would be as advantageous to themselves when settled on their own hearths as to the families of the middle classes, in which, before marriage, they officiate as domestic servants. On all sides we hear complaints of the difficulty of finding, and of retaining when found, a cook who can roast a leg of mutton, and make batter-pudding or pea-soup. In point of fact, we have heard of ladies who have it in serious contemplation to dispense with servants altogether, as the least troublesome alternative. Without wishing matters carried quite so far, we are convinced that many of our fair friends would lose nothing, either in point of respectability or happiness, while they could add at least one-third to the effective incomes of their husbands, if they were to spend a little more time in their kitchens, superintending the preparation of the family dinner, instead of contenting themselves with ordering it—if, indeed, they condescend to do even that. Some forty years back, ladies were driven to shoemaking as a fashionable way of killing time. Why not try a little cooking? Thanks to the modern stoves, with their nicely-arranged skillets and stewpans, which science and mechanical skill have substituted for the blazing kitchen hearth of other days, young ladies of the nineteenth century, just passing its prime, may cook without soiling their fingers or injuring their complexions. Were it not so, we would not recommend them to cook. We would rather live on bread and cheese all the days of our lives.