The spiritual world contains climatic zones similar to those in the natural world. There is nothing in this world which does not have its counterpart in the other, but their origins are different. In the natural world the varying seasons depend upon how far the sun is from the equator; in the spiritual world they depend upon how remote the affections of the will, and so the thoughts of the understanding, are from true love and true faith. Everything there corresponds to these two.

The cold zones of the spiritual world look much like the cold zones in the natural world. There are stretches of frozen land to be seen there, frozen lakes and a covering of snow. The people who come and live there are those who in the world had put their understanding to sleep through being too lazy to think about spiritual matters, and at the same time too lazy to do anything useful. These are called boreal* spirits.

[2] I once had a wish to see a district in the cold zone, where these boreal spirits live. So I was taken in the spirit northwards, to an area where all the ground was snow-covered and all the water frozen over. It was Sunday, and I saw the people, or spirits, of the same physique as people on earth; but on account of the cold they had lions' skins on their heads, with the face fitting over their faces; their bodies both front and back down to the loins were covered with leopards' skins, their legs and feet with bears' skins. I also saw many of them riding in carriages; some of them were in carriages carved to resemble dragons with their horns projecting forwards. These carriages were pulled by small horses with docked tails. They ran like terrifying wild beasts, and the driver holding the reins in his hands constantly drove them on and yelled at them to run. Eventually I saw that the crowds were converging on a church, which was so deep in snow it was invisible. But the guardians of the church were clearing away the snow and digging out a way in for the worshippers as they arrived. They got out of their carriages and entered the church.

[3] I was also allowed to see the inside of the church. It was plentifully lit with lamps and lanterns. The altar was of ashlar, and behind it was hung up a board, on which was written: 'The Divine Trinity, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, who are in essence one God, but three in person.'

At length the priest who was standing by the altar, after three genuflexions towards the board behind it, climbed into the pulpit holding a book in his hand, and began to preach about the Divine Trinity. 'How great a mystery it is,' he cried, 'that God in the highest fathered a Son from eternity, and through Him produced the Holy Spirit, the three of whom linked themselves by essence, but divided themselves by properties, that is, imputation, redemption and activity! But if we consider these things by the use of reason, our sight grows dim and a blot obscures our vision, such as affects anyone who gazes directly at the sun. Therefore, my listeners, in this respect let us keep the understanding subject to the dictates of faith.'

[4] After this he gave another cry and said: 'How great a mystery is our holy faith! This tells us that God the Father imputes the righteousness of the Son, and sends the Holy Spirit to effect by that imputation the rewards of justification. These are briefly the forgiveness of sins, renewal, regeneration and salvation. A person knows no more about the influence and action of the Holy Spirit than the pillar of salt into which Lot's wife was turned. Nor is he any more aware of His presence and state within him than a fish is in the sea. But, my friends, within our faith lies hidden a treasure, so hedged about and concealed that not a scrap of it is to be seen. Therefore in respect to this too let us keep the understanding subject to the dictates of faith.'

[5] He heaved a few sighs, and then cried out again, saying: 'How great a mystery is election! Anyone becomes one of the elect to whom God imputes the faith which of His free choice and purely of His grace He pours into any He wishes, whenever He wishes. When he receives the infusion the person is like a bare tree-trunk, but afterwards he becomes like a tree. But although the fruits, which are good deeds, hang from that tree, which may be taken to represent our faith, still they do not form part of it, so that the tree's value does not depend upon its fruit. However, since this, for all it is a mystic truth, has a heterodox ring to it, let us, my brethren, keep the understanding subject to the dictates of this faith.'

[6] After an interval, during which he stood as if trying to recall something from his memory, he went on to say: 'From the heap of mysteries I will extract just one more. This is that a person in spiritual matters has not a grain of free will. The leaders and champions of our rule say in their theological canons that in matters which concern faith and salvation, what are especially called spiritual matters, a person cannot will, think or understand anything, nor even prepare and devote himself to acquiring these things. So I hold for my part that a person cannot for his part on these subjects think rationally, or speak thoughtfully otherwise than a parrot, magpie or crow. So in spiritual matters he is truly a donkey, and only human in natural matters. But in this, my colleagues, as in other respects, to prevent the understanding attacking your reason, let us keep it subject to the dictates of faith. Our theology is a bottomless pit, and if you plunge your intellectual gaze into it, you will sink and perish in the wreck. But please listen to this: we are none the less enlightened by the Gospel, which shines out high above our heads; yet how painfully would it hurt, did not our hair and the bones of our skull keep it out and prevent it from penetrating into the chamber of our understanding.'

[7] At the end of this speech he came down from the pulpit, said a few prayers at the altar, and brought the service to an end. Then I went up to a group of people, including the priest, who were talking together. The people around said to the priest: 'You have our undying thanks for such a magnificent sermon, so full of wisdom.' Then I said to them: 'Surely you did not understand anything of it?' 'We strained our ears to catch every word,' they answered. 'But why do you ask whether we understood it? Are not such things likely to amaze the understanding?' The priest on hearing this added: 'Because you have heard and have not understood, you are blessed, for that is the source of your salvation.'

[8] Subsequently I talked with the priest and asked him if he had a degree; he replied that he held a master's degree. Then I said: 'Master, I have listened to you preaching of mysteries. If you know of them, but nothing of what they contain, you know nothing. For they are merely like bookcases locked with three bolts; and unless you open them and look inside, which will require the use of the understanding, you do not know whether the contents are valuable, worthless or dangerous. They may be snakes' eggs and spiders' webs, as described in Isaiah (59:5).'

When I said this, the priest gave me a black look, and the worshippers went off and got into their carriages, drunk with paradoxes, stupefied with inanities and plunged in thick darkness as regards everything conducive to faith and instrumental for salvation.

* Or 'of the north wind'.