His thinking…is often exclusive and angular, in consequence of its not being rubbed and polished and adjusted by being placed alongside of the philosophic and religious wisdom of the great and good men of the past. - James McCosh
The more I isolate my thinking from the truly great minds that have gone before me, the easier it is to feel like I know everything. But a world in which I know everything is a narrow, boring, and unsatisfying one indeed.
Fortunately, that is not the real world. When I open my mind to the ideas of good and wise men like James McCosh, Epictetus, John Witherspoon, Boethius, and others, I realize that I know next to nothing and am thrilled by that fact. Their instruction opens the door to a vast moral reality that I simply could not begin to understand on my own. Walking through that door and wandering the paths of their discourses, I find a world enchanted by goodness and infused with transcendent meaning. This isn't mere romantic wish-fulfilment, but an immediate perception of the conscience that there's something essential to human fulfilment contained within these ideas.
This is the power of what C. S. Lewis terms “old books.” Lewis recognizes that engaging with the great thinkers of the past can be intimidating, but a happy surprise awaits the one who tries: "The student is half afraid to meet one of the great philosophers face to face. He feels himself inadequate and thinks he will not understand him. But if he only knew, the great man, just because of his greatness, is much more intelligible than his modern commentator."
It takes a little effort to get started. Introducing oneself to a "great man" is no trivial matter. But the rewards are so exponential that the initial cost seems negligible in the long run.