called "a plant
of God," he says: "My very dear brother in the life of God, you are
more acceptable to me in that it was you who awaked me out of my sleep,
that I might go on to bring forth fruit in the life of God--and I want
you to know that after I was awakened _a strong smell was given to me
in the life of God_."[38] During the next six years (1618-24) he wrote
almost incessantly, producing, from 1620 on, book after book in rapid
succession.[39] In 1622, he informs a friend that he {166} has "laid
aside his trade to serve God and his brothers,"[40] and in 1623, he
says that he has written without ceasing during the autumn and winter.
He felt throughout his life that the "illumination," which broke upon
him in the year 1600, steadily increased with the years, and he came to
look upon his first book as only the crude attempt of a child as
compared with his later works. "The Day," he writes in 1620, "has now
overtaken the _Aurora_ [the morning glow]; it has grown full daylight
and the morning is extinguished."[41] He says, with artlessness, that
when he wrote the _Aurora_, he was not yet accustomed to the Spirit.
The heavenly joy, indeed, met him and he followed the Spirit's
guidance, but much of his own wild and untamed nature still remained to
mar his work. Each successive book marks a growth of "the spiritual
lily" in him, he thinks: "Each book from the first is ten times
deeper!"[42]

Once again, the zeal of a friend brought Boehme into the storm-centre
of persecution. Until 1623, his works circulated only in manuscript
and were kept from the eye of his ecclesiastical enemy, but toward the
end of that year, an admirer, Sigismund von Schweinitz, printed three
of his little books--_True Repentance_; _True Resignation_; and _The
Supersensual Life_--in one volume under the title _The Way to Christ_.
Richter was immediately aroused and poured forth his feelings in some
desperately bad verses:

Quot continentur lineae, blasphemiae
Tot continentur in libro sutorio,
Qui nil nisi picem redolet sutoriam,

{167}

Atrum et colorem, quern vocant sutorium.
Pfuy! pfuy! teter sit fetor a nobis procul![43]

But the Primarius was not content with this harmless weapon of
ridicule. He stirred up the neighbouring clergymen to join him in the
attack, and a complaint was lodged in Town Council against Boehme as a
"rabid enthusiast," and he was warned to leave the town. Boehme was as
sweet and gentle in spirit