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Eleven books by a shoemaker of Görlitz who wrote, by his own account, because he could not help it. Ten of them stand here in the seventeenth-century English of John Sparrow, who translated Boehme within a generation of his death and whose prose is itself now four hundred years old; where that English has drifted out of reach, the facing pane carries a modern register — the same text with archaic inflection and spelling normalised by rule, never paraphrased. Nothing is reworded, and where no register appears beside a passage it is because the rules found nothing to change.
The eleventh book is not in English at all, and it is the reason this note exists.
Des trois principes de l'essence divine, printed at Paris in 1802, is the same work as Concerning the Three Principles of the Divine Essence, which stands here as the second book — the same twenty-seven chapters in the same order, opening `Du premier principe de l'essence divine` against Sparrow's `Of the first Principle of the Divine Essence`. Its translator was Louis-Claude de Saint-Martin, who gave the last years of his life to putting Boehme into French, and who has a shelf of his own in this Lycaeum.
That makes a closed circuit inside this archive, and it is worth naming plainly. Saint-Martin translates Boehme. La Iniciación, printed in Montevideo a hundred and forty years later, traces its own descent through Saint-Martin. A reader can therefore follow one thread from a German mystic of 1619, through the French philosopher who carried him into another language, to a Spanish-language monthly of the 1940s that claimed them both — and read every step of it in the original.
The two are shelved as one work rather than two because that is what they are. They are not set as facing panes: an English translation of 1619 and a French translation of 1802 are two independent readings of a lost German original, and pairing them line by line would assert a correspondence neither translator ever claimed.
1By the first Principle Boehme means a state in which the creatures stand in the false imagination, in the might of the fire, and refuse to allow the light to shine and show things as they really are. In such a state, he says, the first three forms are manifested in their own self-quality as Harshness, Attraction, and Bitterness. The love of that state is "self-love," which is hate; the light is "self-light," which is darkness. Every "self" is a personified " love " ; but the love may be particular or universal, the love of one (myself), or of all (God). And love is a Fire; therefore every " self" is a fire, but it may be a fire that seeks to consume all else into itself, or a fire that — like light — gives itself freely to all. So he calls the first Principle the Principle of Fire, and the second Principle the Principle of Light. And these two, he says, are eternally distinct. Whichever is manifested, the other remains absolutely hidden; and neither can know the other. There is absolutely nothing manifested as good in the first Principle: there is absolutely nothing manifested as evil in the second.
2But the third Principle stands in both good and evil; and by it he means our present state here on earth. Here somewhat of good is manifested, and somewhat of evil. Between these two, man has here to make what is to him an eternal choice. In every manifested creature the basal "real" is hidden, and he knows only by and through imagination, persuasion, sense of certitude. He only directly contacts the real who is in fully realised and conscious touch with the whole. We all therefore " know in part," and such knowledge is but an imagination, compared with the absolute knowledge of God, who is the whole, yet transcends the whole. There are times when one cannot but suspect Boehme of being purposely obscure. He seems to me to be thus when he speaks of the first Principle being the Principle of the Father, and the second of the Son: though he hastens to add that, in the actual Fact, the Father can never be so much as thought of as apart from the Son. What he means I take to be somewhat as follows. He regards the Father as being the hidden, basal spirit, force, potency of the qualities which, in the Son, come to manifestation. The Son is the Father in manifestation: the Father is that which the Son manifests. More than this we cannot say, for the unmanifest has no name nor
3qualities in itself and as apart from its manifestation. So it is said, " God, whom no one hath seen, or can see"; but the Son says, " He that hath seen me hath seen the Father." But the distinction is verbal and notional only; and is an instance of that truth expressed above, that God's One must become distinguished as an apparent two before human apprehension can grasp it. Boehme also says that it is only " according to the first Principle that God is called a consuming fire and a jealous God." If he had said that it is only according to a false imagination that God could so much as appear thus, he would have been more easily understood. For " God according to the first Principle " is God as He never is, for " the Father cannot even be so much as thought of as apart from the Son ": that is, in a true imagination. The whole point is, that by a false imagination He can be thus falsely thought of, but only in imagination, never in reality. Our very surest knowledge is but an image of the true: how true or false an image we never can know till we know all things. Thus we are (till then) shut up to imagination; and when we say, " Thus it is," we mean, " Thus it seems to me." We have absolutely no right to say " I know it is so," save of truths that stand in an agreement in definition, or of things whose content we know exhaustively. Thus we may say we know that all radii of a circle are equal, for this pertains to the defiuition of a circle; or, " I know that my friend was in town to-day," for this is a matter that we can know all about.
The source text as printed, transcribed diplomatically. Where the source language uses a non-Latin script that reaches us only through a Victorian romanisation, this layer is labelled transliteration, because that is what we hold.
1By the first Principle Boehme means a state in which the creatures stand in the false imagination, in the might of the fire, and refuse to allow the light to shine and show things as they really are. In such a state, he says, the first three forms are manifested in their own self-quality as Harshness, Attraction, and Bitterness. The love of that state is "self-love," which is hate; the light is "self-light," which is darkness. Every "self" is a personified " love " ; but the love may be particular or universal, the love of one (myself), or of all (God). And love is a Fire; therefore every " self" is a fire, but it may be a fire that seeks to consume all else into itself, or a fire that — like light — gives itself freely to all. So he calls the first Principle the Principle of Fire, and the second Principle the Principle of Light. And these two, he says, are eternally distinct. Whichever is manifested, the other remains absolutely hidden; and neither can know the other. There is absolutely nothing manifested as good in the first Principle: there is absolutely nothing manifested as evil in the second.
2But the third Principle stands in both good and evil; and by it he means our present state here on earth. Here somewhat of good is manifested, and somewhat of evil. Between these two, man has here to make what is to him an eternal choice. In every manifested creature the basal "real" is hidden, and he knows only by and through imagination, persuasion, sense of certitude. He only directly contacts the real who is in fully realised and conscious touch with the whole. We all therefore " know in part," and such knowledge is but an imagination, compared with the absolute knowledge of God, who is the whole, yet transcends the whole. There are times when one cannot but suspect Boehme of being purposely obscure. He seems to me to be thus when he speaks of the first Principle being the Principle of the Father, and the second of the Son: though he hastens to add that, in the actual Fact, the Father can never be so much as thought of as apart from the Son. What he means I take to be somewhat as follows. He regards the Father as being the hidden, basal spirit, force, potency of the qualities which, in the Son, come to manifestation. The Son is the Father in manifestation: the Father is that which the Son manifests. More than this we cannot say, for the unmanifest has no name nor
3qualities in itself and as apart from its manifestation. So it is said, " God, whom no one hath seen, or can see"; but the Son says, " He that hath seen me hath seen the Father." But the distinction is verbal and notional only; and is an instance of that truth expressed above, that God's One must become distinguished as an apparent two before human apprehension can grasp it. Boehme also says that it is only " according to the first Principle that God is called a consuming fire and a jealous God." If he had said that it is only according to a false imagination that God could so much as appear thus, he would have been more easily understood. For " God according to the first Principle " is God as He never is, for " the Father cannot even be so much as thought of as apart from the Son ": that is, in a true imagination. The whole point is, that by a false imagination He can be thus falsely thought of, but only in imagination, never in reality. Our very surest knowledge is but an image of the true: how true or false an image we never can know till we know all things. Thus we are (till then) shut up to imagination; and when we say, " Thus it is," we mean, " Thus it seems to me." We have absolutely no right to say " I know it is so," save of truths that stand in an agreement in definition, or of things whose content we know exhaustively. Thus we may say we know that all radii of a circle are equal, for this pertains to the defiuition of a circle; or, " I know that my friend was in town to-day," for this is a matter that we can know all about.
The source text as printed, transcribed diplomatically. Where the source language uses a non-Latin script that reaches us only through a Victorian romanisation, this layer is labelled transliteration, because that is what we hold.
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