Text-books supply methods, information, and discipline; teachers impart the breath of life by giving us inspiration and impulse.  Now, the great books are different from all other books in their possession of this mysterious vital force; they are not only text-books by reason of the knowledge they contain, but they are also books of life by reason of the disclosure of personality which they make.  The student of “Faust” receives from that drama not only the poet’s interpretation of man’s life in the world, but he is also brought under the spell of Goethe’s personality, and, in a real sense, gets from his book that which his friends got from the man.  This is not true of secondary books; it is true only of first-hand books.  Secondary books are often products of skill, pieces of well-wrought but entirely self-conscious craftsmanship; first-hand books are always the expression of what is deepest, most original and distinctive in the nature which produces them.  In such books, therefore, we get not only the skill, the art, the knowledge; we get, above all, the man.  There is added to what he has to give us of thought or form the inestimable boon of his companionship.

The reality of this element of personality and the force for culture which resides in it are clearly illustrated by a comparison of the works of Plato with those of Aristotle.  Aristotle was for many centuries the first name in philosophy, and is still one of the greatest; but Aristotle, although a student of the principles of the art of literature and a critic of deep philosophical insight, was primarily a thinker, not an artist.  One goes to him for discipline, for thought, for training in a very high sense; one does not go to him for form, beauty, or personality.  It is a clear, distinct, logical order of ideas, a definite system which he gives us; not a view of life, a disclosure of the nature of man, a synthesis of ideas touched with beauty, dramatically arranged and set in the atmosphere of Athenian life.  For these things one goes to Plato, who is not only a thinker, but an artist of wonderful gifts,—­one who so closely and beautifully relates Greek thought to Greek life that we seem not to be studying a system of philosophy, but mingling with the society of Athens in its most fascinating groups and at its most significant moments.  To the student of Aristotle the personality of the writer counts for nothing; to the student of the “Dialogues,” on the other hand, the personality of Plato counts for everything.  If we approach him as a thinker, it is true, we discard everything except his ideas; but if we approach him as a great writer, ideas are but part of the rich and illuminating whole which he offers us.  One can imagine a man fully acquainting himself with the work of Aristotle and yet remaining almost devoid of culture; but one cannot imagine a man coming into intimate companionship with Plato and remaining untouched by his rich, representative personality.