they do not, it is true, possess full knowledge; but complete knowledge is necessary neither for the demonstration of the existence of the purpose nor for those ethical and intellectual uses which that knowledge serves.  The life of the race is a revelation of the nature of man, of the character of his relations with his surroundings, and of the certain great lines of development along which the race is moving.  Every leading race has its characteristic thought concerning its own nature, its relation to the world, and the character and quality of life.  These various fundamental conceptions have shaped all definite thinking, and have very largely moulded race character, and, therefore, determined race destiny.  The Hebrew, the Greek, and the Roman conceptions of life constitute not only the key to the diverse histories of the leaders of ancient civilisation, but also their most vital contribution to civilisation.  These conceptions were not definitely thought out; they were worked out.  They were the result of the contact of these different peoples with Nature, with the circumstances of their own time, and with those universal experiences which fall to the lot of all men, and which are, in the long run, the prime sources and instruments of human education.

The interpretations of life which each of these races has left us are revelations both of race character and of life itself; they embody the highest thought, the deepest feeling, the most searching experiences, the keenest suffering, the most strenuous activity.  In these interpretations are expressed and represented the inner and essential life of each race; in them the soul of the elder world survives.  Now, these interpretations constitute, in their highest forms, not only the supreme art of the world, but they are also the richest educational material accessible to men.  Information and discipline may be drawn from other sources, but that culture which means the enrichment and unfolding of a man’s self is largely developed by familiarity with those ultimate conclusions of man about himself which are the deposit of all that he has thought, suffered, wrought, and been,—­those deep deposits of truth silently formed in the heart of the race in the long and painful working out of its life, its character, and its destiny.  For these rich interpretations we must turn to art, and especially to the art of literature; and in literature we must turn especially to the small group of works which, by reason of the adequacy with which they convey and illustrate these interpretations, hold the first places,—­the books of life.