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 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 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 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’