reader of poetry, with a memory like Macaulay's. It was his native
tendency to find coincidences in poetic passages (which, to some, to
me for example, did not often seem coincidental); and to explain
coincidences by conscious or subconscious borrowing. One remarked in
him these tendencies long before he wrote on the classical
acquirements of Shakespeare.

While Mr. Collins tended to account for similarities in the work of
authors by borrowing, my tendency was to explain them as undesigned
coincidences. The question is of the widest range. Some inquirers
explain the often minute coincidences in myths, popular tales,
proverbs, and riddles, found all over the world, by diffusion from a
single centre (usually India). Others, like myself, do not deny
cases of transmission, but in other cases see spontaneous and
independent, though coincident invention. I do not believe that the
Arunta of Central Australia borrowed from Plutarch the central
feature of the myth of Isis and Osiris.

It is not on Shakespeare's use, now and then, of Greek and Latin
models and sources, but on coincidences detected by Mr. Collins
himself, and not earlier remarked, that he bases his belief in the
saturation of Shakespeare's mind with Roman and Athenian literature.
Consequently we can only do justice to Mr. Collins's system, if we
compare example after example of his supposed instances of
Shakespeare's borrowing. This is a long and irksome task; and the
only fair plan is for the reader to peruse Mr. Collins's Studies in
Shakespeare, compare the Greek and Roman texts, and weigh each
example of supposed borrowing for himself. Baconians must delight in
this labour.