gentleman in the catalogue of the British Museum. It is claimed also that the book offers internal evidence in support of Mr Giles Jones' authorship, inasmuch as Goody Two Shoes becomes Lady Jones, and one of the prominent families in the book is also named Jones.

Beyond this, however, there appears to be no evidence as to Mr Giles Jones being the writer, and I think something may be said as to the claim on behalf of the poet Goldsmith, although I am by no means anxious that the [xiii]honour of having written it should be ascribed either to the one or to the other: the following remarks, which are mainly taken from an article I contributed to the Athenæum in April 1881, are offered simply as speculations which may not be without interest to lovers of the little book. They may, perhaps, show that there is some reason for attributing the work to Oliver Goldsmith, although, of course, it is not claimed that they absolutely establish the fact.

Having occasion to examine carefully as many of the books for children published by John Newbery as I could procure (and they are as scarce as blackberries in midwinter, for what among books has so brief a life as a nursery book?), I was struck while perusing them with a certain distinct literary flavour, so to [xiv]speak, which appeared to be common to a group of little volumes, all published about the same period. These were: "Goody Two Shoes," "Giles Gingerbread," "Tom Thumb's Folio," "The Lilliputian Magazine," "The Lilliputian Masquerade," "The Easter Gift," "A Pretty Plaything," "The Fairing," "Be Merry and Wise," "The Valentine's Gift," "Pretty Poems for the Amusement of Children Three Feet High," "A Pretty Book of Pictures," "Tom Telescope," and a few others. I give abbreviated titles only, but if space permitted I mould like to quote them in full; they are remarkable no less for their curious quaintness and their clever ingenuity than for their attractiveness to both parents (who, it must not be forgotten, are more often the real buyers [xv]of children's books) and the young people for whom they were written, and they are in themselves most entertaining and amusing reading. This group of little books possesses, moreover, another characteristic that is sufficiently remarkable of itself to be noticed. While they all evince a real genius for writing in a style suited to the capacities of little folk, there is a nameless something about them which, far more than is the case with thousands of other books for the young, is calculated to enforce the attention and excite the interest of "children of a larger growth."

Now one of this little group, "The Lilliputian Magazine," is attributed in the British Museum Catalogue to Oliver Goldsmith; and so strong is the family likeness in all the books I have mentioned, [xvi]that I cannot but believe they are all by the same hand--a belief which I think will be shared by any one who will take the trouble to compare them carefully. But I should advise him to rely on the Newbery editions alone, for grievously garbled versions of nearly every one of these books have been issued from many different houses throughout the country.

Many authorities have supported the view that Goldsmith was the author of "Goody Two Shoes." Conspicuous among them was Washington Irving, who says, "It is suggested with great probability that he wrote for Mr Newbery the famous nursery story of 'Goody Two Shoes.'" It is said also that William Godwin held this opinion; and I believe there is authority for [xvii]stating that the Misses Bewick, the daughters of the celebrated engraver, who illustrated an edition of the book for T. Saint, of Newcastle, understood from their father that it was by Oliver Goldsmith.

But let us turn to the book itself and see if it furnishes any evidence on the point. The very title, with its quaint phrasing, shows no common genius, and as Washington Irving says, "bears the stamp of his [Goldsmith's] sly and playful humour." As the book was published in 1765, it would most likely have been written just at the time when Goldsmith was working most industriously in the service of Newbery (1763-4), at which period it will be remembered that he was living near Newbery at Islington, and his publisher was paying for his board and lodging.

[xviii]

Without, of course, claiming that similarity of idea in different writings necessarily betokens the same authorship, I think the parallels that are to be found in this little book, with many of the sentiments in Oliver Goldsmith's acknowledged work--to say nothing of the almost universally recognized likeness to Goldsmith's style that is found in "Goody Two Shoes" may fairly be considered as throwing some light upon the question.

The most striking of these parallels is perhaps that furnished by the curious little political preface to the work--a preface which is quite unnecessary to the book, and I think would only have been inserted by one who was full of the unjustnesses at which he was preparing to aim a still heavier blow. In [xix]describing the parish of Mouldwell, where little Margery was born, an exact picture is drawn of "The Deserted Village," where

  One only master grasps the whole domain
  And half a tillage tints thy smiling plain;

And where

      ---- the man of wealth and pride
  Takes up a space that many a poor supplied:
  Space for his lakes his park's extended bounds,
  Space for his horses, equipage, and hounds.

And by this and other tyrannies, and being also

  Scourged by famine from the smiling land,

for he was "unfortunate in his business" at about the same time, Sir Timothy accomplishes his aim, and

  Indignant spurns the cottage from the green.

Ruined by this oppression, poor Mr [xx]Meanwell is turned out of doors,
and flew to another parish for succour.

  Where, then, ah! where shall poverty reside
  To 'scape the pressure of contiguous pride?

Sir Timothy, however, suffers for his injustice and wickedness, for "great part of the land lay untilled for some years, which was deemed a just reward for such diabolical proceedings."

  Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey,
  Where wealth accumulates and men decay.

Miss Charlotte Yonge, to whom I shall refer again, lays upon this: "If the conjecture be true which attributes this tale to Oliver Goldsmith, we have seen the same spirit which prompted his poem of 'The Deserted Village,' namely, indignation and dismay at the discouragement of small holdings in the early part [xxi]of the eighteenth century."[C] Indeed, it may well be that we have in this preface even a more true picture of Lissoy than that given in the poem, which, as Mr William Black says in his monograph on Goldsmith, "is there seen through the softening and beautifying mist of years."

Much more might be said of the characteristics of this little book, which contains so much that reminds us not only of the style but the matter of many of Goldsmith's writings. Miss Yonge says: "There is a certain dry humour in some passages and a tenderness in others that incline us much to the belief that it could come from no one else but the writer of 'The Vicar of Wakefield' [xxii]and 'The Deserted Village.' Indeed, we could almost imagine that Dr Primrose himself had described the panic at the supposed ghost in the church in the same tone as the ride to church, the family portrait, or the gross of green