An angel once said to me: 'You want to see clearly what faith and charity are, and so what faith is when separated from charity, and what it is when joined to charity; I will give you a visual demonstration.'

'Please do,' I replied.

'Instead of faith and charity,' he said, 'think of light and heat, and you will see clearly. Faith in its essence is truth belonging to wisdom, and charity in its essence is affection belonging to love. In heaven truth belonging to wisdom is light, and affection belonging to love is heat. The light and heat the angels enjoy are essentially this and nothing else. From this you can see clearly what faith separated from charity is like, and what faith joined to charity is like. Faith separated from charity is like light in wintertime, and faith joined to charity is like light in springtime. Light in wintertime, being light without heat but combined with cold, completely strips the trees of their leaves, kills off the grass, makes the ground hard and freezes water. But light in springtime, being light combined with heat, makes the trees grow, putting forth first leaves, then flowers, and finally fruits; it opens up and softens the ground, to bring forth grass, plants, flowers and shrubs, and it also melts the ice so that water flows from springs.

[2] 'It is exactly the same with faith and charity: faith separated from charity makes everything die off, and faith combined with charity makes everything come to life. This coming to life, as well as that dying off, can be seen actually happening in our world, the spiritual one, because here faith is light and charity is heat. For where faith is combined with charity, there are parkland gardens, flower-gardens and shrubberies, the more beautiful, the more closely they are combined. But where faith is separated from charity, not so much as grass grows; and any patch of greenery is produced by thorns and briars.'

Not far off were standing some clergymen, whom the angel called believers in men's justification and sanctification by faith alone, as well as mystery-mongers. We told them the same and demonstrated it to them so that they could see that it was so. When we asked whether it was not so, they turned their backs and said, 'We did not hear.' But we shouted at them and said, 'So listen to it again.' However, then they put both hands over their ears and cried: 'We do not want to hear.'

[3] After hearing this I spoke with the angel about faith on its own and said that I had been allowed to know by personal experience that that sort of faith is like the light of wintertime. I told him how for some years past spirits who had different kinds of faith had passed by me; and whenever those who had separated faith from charity came near, such a chill attacked my feet, and then by degrees my loins and finally my chest, that I hardly knew otherwise than that all the vitality in my body was going to be extinguished. This would actually have happened, if the Lord had not driven those spirits away and freed me.

It seemed to me surprising that those spirits did not in themselves feel any chill, as they admitted. So I compared them to fish under ice, for they too do not feel any chill, since their life and thus their nature is essentially so cold. I perceived then that this chill spread from the deceptive light of their faith, much like that which rises after sunset from marshy and sulphurous ground in midwinter. Travellers in all parts see this deceptive, cold light.

They can be compared with the icebergs which are torn from their places in arctic lands and are carried hither and thither on the ocean. Of these I have heard it said, that on their approach the crews of ships all shiver with cold. Groups of spirits whose faith is separated from charity can therefore be likened to these icebergs, and if you like you can so call them,

It is well known from the Word that faith without charity is dead; but I will say why it dies. It dies of cold, and this kills off faith like a bird in a severe winter. First of all its sight goes, and at the same time its ability to fly; finally its breathing stops, and it falls headlong off the branch into a snowy grave.