Latin — 1533, repaired
Ad omnium mirabilium operationem, ait Hermes, duo sufficiunt, ignis et terra: haec est patiens, ille agens. Ignis, ut ait Dionysius, in omnibus et per omnia clare venit, et removetur, omnibus lucidus est, simul et occultus incognitusque: ipse quando per seipsum est, non accedente materia in qua propriam manifestet actionem, immensus est et invisibilis, per seipsum potens ad actionem propriam, mobilis, tradens seipsum omnibus quodam modo proximantibus, renovativus, naturae custos, illuminativus, circumvelatis splendoribus incomprehensus, clarus, discretus, resiliens, sursum ferens, acute manens, excelsus, non receptus contumelia minoris rationis, semper motus movens, alterum comprehendens, incomprehensus, non indigus alterius, latenter crescens a seipso, et ad susceptas materias manifestans suimet magnitudinem, activus, potens, simul omnibus praesens invisibiliter, neglectus esse non patitur, ad cetera autem sicut quaedam vindicta generaliter et proprie subito reducens in rationem, incomprehensibilis, impalpabilis, non minutus, in omnibus ditissimus suimet traditionibus. Immensa et improba rerum naturae portio ignis est, ut ait Plinius, et in quo dubium sit plura absumat, an pariat. Ignis ipse unus est et per omnia penetrat, ut aiunt Pythagorici, sed in caelo dilatatus, collustrans, in inferno vero coarctatus, tenebrosus, et crucians: in medio de utroque participans. Ignis itaque in se unus, in recipiente multiplex, et in diversis diversa nota distributus, ut apud Ciceronem testatur Cleanthes.
Est itaque ignis hic adventitius quo utimur: est in lapidibus, qui ictu chalybis excutitur; est in terra, quae ex refricatione sumit; est in aquis, qui fontes et puteos calefacit: est in profundo maris, quod ventis agitatum tepescit: est in aere, quem saepe fervescere videmus: et animalia quaeque et viventia omnia, et vegetantia calore nutriuntur: et omne quod vivit, propter inclusum ignem vivit.
Superni ignis propria sunt: calor omnia fecundans, et lux omnibus vitam tribuens. Inferni ignis propria sunt: ardor omnia consumens, et obscuritas cuncta sterilitate complens. Fugat itaque caelestis et lucidus ignis tenebrosos daemones, fugat et hic noster ligneus eosdem, quatenus habet simulachrum et vehiculum lucis illius superioris. Quin et illius, qui ait: Ego sum lux mundi, qui verus ignis est, pater luminum, a quo omne datum optimum venit, splendorem ignis sui emittens, et communicans primo, et caeteris caelestibus corporibus, et per haec tanquam per media instrumenta illum in hunc ignem nostrum influens.
Sicut ergo tenebrarum daemones in tenebris ipsis robustiores sunt: sic boni daemones, qui sunt angeli lucis, incrementa suscipiunt a luce, non solum divina, solari, et caelesti, sed etiam eius qui apud nos est ignis. Hinc primi religionum et ceremoniarum sapientissimi institutores orationes et psalmodias, et sacra quaeque nonnisi accensis luminibus fienda decreverunt. Hinc illud Pythagorae symbolum: Ne loquaris de deo absque lumine. Iusseruntque ad fugandos malos daemones, apud cadavera mortuorum lumina accendi, et ignes, nec illa amoveri, quousque perfectis sacro ritu expiationibus terra condatur: ipseque omnipotens in veteri lege exquirebat omnia sua sacrificia igne offerri, atque ut in altari semper ignis arderet, quem etiam apud Romanos Vestae sacerdotes perpetuum servabant custodiebantque.
Omnium autem elementorum basis et fundamentum terra est: ipsa enim est obiectum, subiectum, et receptaculum omnium radiorum influxuumque caelestium; ipsa in se continet omnium rerum semina seminalesque virtutes: ideo ipsa dicitur animalis, vegetalis, et mineralis: quae ab omnibus reliquis elementis ac caelis fecundata, omnium ex seipsa est gignitiva. Ipsa est receptiva omnium fecunditatum, et veluti prima parens etiam omnium pullulativa, centrum et fundamentum et mater omnium. Tolle de illa quantumcunque secreta, lota, depurata, subtiliata, si dimiseris aliquandiu sub divo, mox caelestibus viribus fecundata et pregnans, ex seipsa producet plantas, producet vermiculos et animalia, producet lapillos, lucidasque metallorum scintillas. In ea sunt secreta maxima, si quando fuerit per artificium ignis purgata, et ad simplicitatem suam congrua lotione reducta. Ipsa est prima creationis nostrae materia et restaurationis ac conservationis nostrae uberrima medicina.
Close translation
For the working of all marvels, Hermes says, two things suffice: fire and earth; this one is the patient, that one the agent. Fire, as Dionysius says, in all things and through all things comes clearly, and is withdrawn — it is luminous to all, and at once hidden and unknown: when it is through itself alone, with no matter approaching in which it might manifest its own action, it is immense and invisible; through itself it is capable of its own action, mobile, delivering itself to all things that in some manner draw near to it, renewing, the guardian of nature, illuminating, incomprehensible amid its own veiled splendors, clear, distinct, rebounding, bearing upward, keenly abiding, exalted, not to be received with the insult of a lesser reckoning, always moved while moving, comprehending another, itself incomprehensible, needing nothing else, growing secretly of itself, and, toward the matters it takes up, manifesting its own greatness — active, powerful, at once present to all things invisibly, suffering not to be neglected; and toward other things, as a kind of vengeance, both generally and properly reducing them suddenly to order — incomprehensible, impalpable, in no way diminished, richest of all things in what it hands down of itself. Fire is an immense and unruly portion of the nature of things, as Pliny says, so that it is doubtful whether it consumes more than it produces. Fire itself is one, and penetrates through all things, as the Pythagoreans say — but in the heavens it is spread wide, illuminating, while in the underworld it is confined, dark, and tormenting; in the middle region it partakes of both. Fire, then, is one in itself, manifold in what receives it, and distributed with a different mark in different things, as Cleanthes testifies in Cicero.
There is, then, this adventitious fire that we use: it is in stones, which is struck out by a blow of steel; it is in the earth, which draws it out by friction; it is in waters, which it heats in springs and wells; it is in the depths of the sea, which grows warm when stirred by the winds; it is in the air, which we often see growing hot; and every animal and all living things, and plants too, are nourished by heat; and everything that lives, lives on account of the fire enclosed within it.
Proper to the fire above are: heat, making all things fruitful, and light, giving life to all things. Proper to the fire below are: burning, consuming all things, and darkness, filling all things with barrenness. So the celestial and luminous fire puts to flight the dark demons, and this fire of ours, made of wood, puts to flight the same, insofar as it carries the image and vehicle of that higher light. Indeed, it carries the light of him who says, I am the light of the world, who is the true fire, the father of lights, from whom every best gift comes, sending forth the splendor of his own fire, and communicating it first to the other celestial bodies, and, through these as through intermediate instruments, pouring that light into this fire of ours.
Just as, then, the demons of darkness are stronger in the darkness itself, so the good demons, who are angels of light, take increase from light — not only the divine, the solar, and the celestial, but also that fire which is among us. Hence the wisest founders of religions and ceremonies from the first ordained that prayers and psalmodies, and every sacred rite, should be performed only with lights kindled. Hence that symbol of Pythagoras: Speak not of God without light. And they ordered that, to put to flight the evil demons, lights and fires be kindled beside the bodies of the dead, and not be removed until, once the sacred expiatory rites had been fully performed, the earth was closed over them; and the Almighty himself, in the old law, required that all his sacrifices be offered by fire, and that a fire should always burn on the altar — which fire, among the Romans too, the priestesses of Vesta kept and guarded perpetually.
But of all the elements, the base and foundation is earth: for it is the object, the subject, and the receptacle of all the rays and influences of the heavens; it contains within itself the seeds and seminal powers of all things: for this reason it is called animal, vegetable, and mineral — and, being made fruitful by all the remaining elements and by the heavens, it is of itself generative of all things. It is receptive of every fecundity, and, as a kind of first parent, is productive of everything as well, the center and foundation and mother of all things. Take of it however much you like — secret, washed, purified, refined — and if you leave it for a while under the open sky, presently, made fruitful and pregnant by the celestial powers, it will produce of itself plants, it will produce little worms and animals, it will produce small stones, and the shining sparks of metals. In it are the greatest secrets, if ever it is purged by the artifice of fire, and reduced by a fitting washing to its own simplicity. It is the first matter of our creation, and the most bountiful medicine of our restoration and preservation.
Modern rendering
Two things are enough for every marvelous working, Hermes says: fire and earth — earth is the one that receives, fire the one that acts. Fire, as Dionysius puts it, moves clearly through and within everything, and withdraws again; it lights up everything while staying hidden and unknowable at the same time. Taken purely on its own, with no matter nearby for it to act on, it is boundless and invisible — capable, by itself, of its own action; mobile; giving itself to anything that comes near it in some way; renewing things; the guardian of nature; a source of light; impossible to grasp even amid its own visible brilliance; clear, distinct, springing back, rising upward, sharply persistent, exalted, not to be treated as something lesser than it is; always moving while it moves other things; grasping other things while remaining ungraspable itself; needing nothing outside itself; growing quietly from within; and, wherever it takes hold, showing off its own scale — active, powerful, invisibly present to everything at once, refusing to be ignored; and toward everything else, it acts almost like a kind of corrective force, suddenly bringing things back into order, both in general and in their particulars. It cannot be fully grasped or touched, is never diminished, and is the richest of all things in what it hands down of itself. Fire is a vast and unruly share of nature, as Pliny says — so much so that it's hard to tell whether it destroys more than it creates. Fire itself is one single thing, penetrating everything, as the Pythagoreans hold — though in the heavens it spreads out and illuminates, while in the underworld it is compressed, dark, and tormenting; in between, it shares something of both. So fire is one in itself, but becomes many depending on what receives it, taking on a different character in different things — as Cleanthes says, quoted by Cicero.
Then there's this ordinary fire we actually use: it's in stones, struck out by a blow of steel; it's in the ground, drawn out by friction; it's in water, warming springs and wells; it's in the depths of the sea, which grows warm when the wind churns it; it's in the air, which we often see heat up; every animal, every living thing, even plants, are nourished by warmth — and everything alive stays alive because of the fire it holds inside.
What belongs to the fire above: heat that makes everything fertile, and light that gives life to everything. What belongs to the fire below: burning that consumes everything, and darkness that fills everything with barrenness. So the bright fire of the heavens drives off the demons of darkness — and so does our own ordinary wood-fire, to the extent that it's an image and vehicle of that higher light. In fact it carries the light of the one who said, I am the light of the world — who is the true fire, the father of lights, the source of every good gift, sending out the brightness of his own fire, sharing it first with the other heavenly bodies, and, through them as intermediate instruments, pouring that light down into this fire of ours.
Just as the demons of darkness grow stronger the darker it gets, the good demons — the angels of light — draw strength from light: not only divine, solar, and celestial light, but even the ordinary fire we have here. That's why the wisest founders of religions and rites, from the start, insisted that prayers, chants, and every sacred rite be carried out only with lamps lit. That's the source of the Pythagorean saying: Don't speak of God without light. And they ordered that, to drive off evil demons, lights and fires be kept burning by the bodies of the dead, and not removed until the burial rites of purification were fully complete and the earth closed over the grave. And in the old law, God himself required that every sacrifice be offered by fire, and that a fire always burn on the altar — the same fire the Vestal priestesses in Rome kept perpetually alight and guarded.
But of all the elements, earth is the base and foundation: it is the target, the receiver, and the container for every ray and influence coming down from the heavens; it holds within itself the seeds and seed-powers of everything — which is why it's called animal, vegetable, and mineral all at once. Made fertile by every other element and by the heavens, it generates everything out of itself. It receives every kind of fertility, and, like a first parent, brings everything forth — it is the center, the foundation, and the mother of all things. However refined you make it — cleaned, purified, distilled — if you leave it out under the open sky for a while, it will soon be made fertile and pregnant by the powers of the heavens, and produce on its own: plants, small creatures and animals, pebbles, and the bright sparks of metals. It holds the greatest secrets, once purified by the craft of fire and reduced, through proper washing, back to its own simplicity. It is the original material of our creation, and the richest medicine for our restoration and preservation.
Editorial flags — draft status
- uncertain: The long asyndetic catalogue of fire's attributes (from 'immensus est et invisibilis' through 'suimet traditionibus') is drawn from Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite's account of fire as a symbol of the divine (cf. Divine Names / Celestial Hierarchy imagery); OCR damage across this whole passage is severe and the reconstruction, while sense-consistent, should be checked against a printed critical edition or page image rather than trusted at the word level.
- uncertain: 'Tolle de illa quantumcunque secreta, lota, depurata, subtiliata' — 'lora' emended to 'lota' (washed); alternate reading 'laeta' or similar cannot be ruled out from OCR alone. Flagging per spec rather than silently smoothing.
- uncertain: Attribution chain 'ait Hermes' (opening) — standard in Agrippa/Hermetic tradition but the specific Hermetic source text is not named; kept as unglossed attribution per spec (add nothing, resolve no ambiguity).