CONCLUSION.
Now that we have come to the end of our investigation, it may be well to survey briefly the whole field and to summarize the results we have reached.
We have seen that to mediæval Europe India and Persia were lands of magic and enchantment; their languages and literatures were utterly unknown. Whatever influence these literatures exerted on that of Europe was indirect and not recognized. Nor did the Portuguese discoveries effect an immediate change. It was only by slow degrees that the West obtained any knowledge of Eastern thought. The Gulistān and Būstān of Saʻdī, some maxims of Bhartṛhari and a few scattered fragments were all that was known in Europe of Indic or Persian literature before the end of the eighteenth century.
Then the epoch-making discoveries of Sir William Jones aroused the attention of the Western world and laid the foundations of a new science. New ideas of world-wide significance presented themselves to the European mind. Nowhere were these ideas welcomed with more enthusiasm than in Germany, the home of philological scholarship. Herder pointed the way, and by means of translations and imitations tried to introduce the treasures of Oriental thought into German literature. That he did not meet with unqualified success was due, as we have seen, to his one-sided didactic tendency. To him, however, belongs the credit of the first impulse. Then Friedrich Schlegel founded the study of Sanskrit in Germany, while at the same time Hammer was busily at work spreading a knowledge of the Persian poets in Europe. The effect of the latter's work was instantaneous, for, as has been pointed out, it was his translation of Hāfiḍ that inspired the composition of Goethe's Divan and thus started the Oriental movement in Germany.
We have examined the share which Rückert, Platen, Bodenstedt and Schack had in this movement and have touched briefly on the work of some of the minor lights. It will be noticed that the Persian tendency found a far greater number of followers than the Indic. And this is but natural. It was far more easy to sing of wine, woman and roses in the manner of Hāfiḍ, such as most of these poets conceived this manner to be, than to assimilate and reproduce the philosophic and often involved poetry of India. Add to this the charming form and the rich rhyme of Persian poetry and we can readily understand why it won favor. But we can also understand readily enough why most of the so-called Hafizian singing is of very inferior quality. Those men who did the most serious work for the West-Eastern movement in Germany, men like Rückert and Schack, were not one-sided in their studies. It was their earnest intention to offer to their countrymen what was best in the literatures of both India and Persia, and that they have carried out this intention nobly no one who has followed this investigation will be disposed to deny.
It only remains to say a few words on the question of the value of this Oriental movement to German literature. We are not inclined to put too high an estimate on the poetry that arose under its influence. In fact, we do not think that it has produced what may be called really great poetry. It is significant that the fame of most of the poets considered in this investigation does not rest on that part of their work which was inspired by Oriental influence. We cannot possibly agree with the view that would place Goethe's Divan side by side with the master's best productions. We do not believe that he ever would have become famous through that. Platen's Ghaselen have neither the merit nor the reputation of his sonnets or his ballads. Even among the Ghaselen and Östliche Rosen of Rückert, the finest poems, such as "Sei mir gegrüsst" and "Du bist die Ruh," both immortalized by the genius of Schubert, are precisely those that are least Oriental, and we think it is safe to say that the Liebesfrühling exceeds in fame any one of Rückert's Oriental collections, including the Weisheit des Brahmanen. The exception to the rule is Bodenstedt. His reputation rests almost solely on the Mirza Schaffy songs; but it will scarcely be pretended that this is great poetry.
From what has been said it may be inferred that the chief value of the Oriental movement does not consist in its original contributions to German literature, but rather in the reproductions and translations it inspired. For it was through these that the treasures of Eastern thought were made the literary heritage, not of Germany alone, but of Europe. As far as the literature of Germany itself is concerned, this movement was of the greatest significance, in that it introduced the Oriental element and thereby helped powerfully to impart to German letters the spirit of cosmopolitanism for which men like Herder and Goethe had so earnestly striven. The great writers of ancient Greece and Rome had long since been familiar to the German people; Shakespere, Dante and Calderon had likewise won a place by the side of the German classics through the masterly work of the Romanticists; and now the spirit and form of a new literature—light from the East—was brought in by the movement which has been the subject of this investigation and assumed its place as a recognized element in the literature of Germany. The fond dream of a Weltlitteratur thus became a reality, and the German language became the medium of acquaintance with all that is best in the literature of the world. The Oriental movement is the clearest proof of that spirit of universality, which is at once the noblest trait and the proudest boast of German genius.