This love here forms the centre which expands on all sides and into all regions.—HEGEL.
Although Jalálu'd-Dín Rúmí lived for fifty years in a Turkish city he scarcely ever used any Turkish words; but nevertheless his influence on Turkish poetry was very considerable. The Turkish poets of that day poured forth innumerable "spiritual couplets" of a mystical nature. Indeed nearly all the Ottoman poets were either Súfís or men who wrote after the manner of the Persian Súfís. Jalál's son, Sultan Valad, wrote in Turkish the following concerning his father:
Wot ye well Mevláná is of saints the Pole;
Whatsoever thing he sayeth, do in whole.
All his words are mercies from the Heavenly King;
Such that blind folks' eyes were opened, did they sing.
The Súfí influence on Turkish poetry, many years after Jalál's death, gradually weakened as time went on, and their poetry became less mystical. The French were probably responsible for this change to a certain extent.
Then, again, Súfíism influenced the poetry of India; but in this case there was influence on both sides, and the Súfís probably borrowed some of the Buddhistic ideas, especially in regard to their later conception of Divine absorption. The following remark of Abú Bahu al-Shiblí certainly points to the belief that the Súfís inculcated certain ideas from the Vedanta Philosophy:—"Tasawwuf is control of the faculties and observance of the breaths."
Súfí poetry has greatly influenced Western thought. Many of the German mystics wrote as the Súfí poets had written before them. Particularly might be mentioned Eckhart, Tauler and Suso. Concerning the last mentioned I may quote the following passage to demonstrate my meaning: "Earthly friends must needs endure to be distinct and separate from those whom they love; but Thou, O fathomless sweetness of all true love, meltest into the heart of Thy beloved, and pourest Thyself fully into the essence of his soul, that nothing of Thee remains outside, but Thou art joined and united most lovingly with Thy beloved." There was rapturous language both with the Persian and German mystics. The great difference between them was that the German mystics, for the most part, were ascetics, the Persians were not. Then again in the nineteenth century Hegel was loud in his praise of Jalálu'd-Dín Rúmí, calling him a great thinker as well as a great poet, but somehow he seems to put Jalál's Pantheism first, his Mysticism second. Surely this was putting the cart before the horse?
To trace the scope of the influence of Súfí thought in England would be extremely interesting, but the limits of this little book will not admit of our doing so. The influence was at first among the few; but optimistic lovers of the East believe that Oriental thought is daily becoming of more interest to Western minds. The student knows that Edward FitzGerald's rendering of Omar Khayyám, was anything but a faithful translation; that FitzGerald shook up Omar's words like so many dice and set them to the music of wine, roses, and pessimism. The Omar Khayyám Club read FitzGerald, but not Omar Khayyám, and in consequence they have fallen into the error of associating Omar with Bacchus. But, nevertheless, we must be grateful to FitzGerald. He has given us a great poem, and stirred, let us hope, many of his countless readers to a more faithful study of Persian poetry. The indefatigable Dr. Johnson has written the following on the Persian poet, who is the subject of our present volume: "He makes plain to the Pilgrim the secrets of the Way of Unity, and unveils the Mysteries of the Path of Eternal Truth." Concerning our modern poets I have quoted elsewhere a few lines of Mr. Arthur Symons on a dancing dervish. Many of the late Thomas Lake Harris's poems are of a Súfí nature. In Mr. Stephen Phillip's beautiful poem "Marpessa," the following lines are full of Sidi mysticism:
For they,
Seeking that perfect face beyond the world,
Approach in vision earthly semblances,
And touch, and at the shadows flee away.