(27) As they sailed, behold, there came down a storm of wind: the waves beat into the ship, insomuch that the ship was covered with the waves.

(145) My fear is increased by remaining idle." Why then, O faint-hearted one, in the matter of religion Are you paralysed by the fear of loss? See you not how the traders in this market of ours Make large profits, both apostles and saints? What a mine of wealth awaits them on leaving it, Seeing they make such profits while still here! Fire is soft to them as cotton raiment, The ocean bears them gently like a porter; Iron in their hands is soft as wax,

(125) I will not set foot upon the ship; Shall I be drowned on the voyage or a survivor? I shall not undertake the voyage on the chance On the bare hope of reaching land, as the rest do.' In that case no trade at all will be undertaken by you, The lamp of the heart, that is a timid trader, Nay, it acquires loss, for it is precluded from gain; 'Tis the lamp that takes fire that acquires light. Since all things are dependent on probability, Religion is so first of all, for thereby you find release.

(2) ’Twixt Heaven and Earth, upon the waves of Cosmos, is it dragged in contrary directions, for ever racked with ceaseless pains ; so that in this its deathless nature doth afflict the soul, in that because of its unceasing sense, it hath the yoke of ceaseless torture set upon its neck. Know, then, that we should dread, and be afraid, and [ever] be upon our guard, lest we should be entangled in these [toils]. For those who do not now believe, will after their misdeeds be driven to believe, by facts not words, by actual sufferings of punishment and not by threats.

(23) Behold the earth will be destroyed on account of all their works, and there will be no seed of the vine, and no oil; for their works are altogether faith^ss, (and they will all perish together, beasts and cattle arid birds, and all the fish of the sea, on account the children of men.

(2) It is well for thee to think fearfully of thyself here as of a living fish, much more so for the sinner to dread the fierce anguish of hell. Thou art burnt if warm water touch thee, tender creature that thou art; and when thou doest damnable sins, how canst thou sit thus comfortably? 0 wretched soul, that longest for reward unearned by striving, thou that art so tender and much afflicted, thou immortal, thou art devoured by Death, and undone! Thou hast found the ship of manhood; then sail in it across the broad river of sorrow. Fool, this is no time for slumber; it will be hard to find the ship again. How canst thou forsake the noble delight in the Law, which brings an endless course of comforts, and find pleasure in wantonness, mirth, and other like sources of sorrow?

(317) They who fear when they ought not to fear, and fear not when they ought to fear, such men, embracing false doctrines, enter the evil path.

(60) But if thou wouldst know how it is, behold, I will tell thee in a parable or similitude: When thou art pressed, according to the desire of thy heart, into riches and power, then it is with thee as if thou stoodst in a deep water, where the water always stands up to thy very mouth, and thou feelest no ground under thy feet, but thou swimmest with thy hands and strugglest to protect or save thyself; now thou art in deep water, now above water again, yet always in a great terror and danger, expecting to sink down to the bottom, the water often coming into thy mouth, and always expecting death.

(6) So eager did I render my companions, With this brief exhortation, for the voyage, That then I hardly could have held them back. And having turned our stern unto the morning, We of the oars made wings for our mad flight, Evermore gaining on the larboard side. Already all the stars of the other pole The night beheld, and ours so very low It did not rise above the ocean floor. Five times rekindled and as many quenched Had been the splendour underneath the moon, Since we had entered into the deep pass, When there appeared to us a mountain, dim From distance, and it seemed to me so high As I had never any one beheld. Joyful were we, and soon it turned to weeping; For out of the new land a whirlwind rose, And smote upon the fore part of the ship. Three times it made her whirl with all the waters, At the fourth time it made the stern uplift, And the prow downward go, as pleased Another, Until the sea above us closed again."

(1) O Ye, who in some pretty little boat, Eager to listen, have been following Behind my ship, that singing sails along, Turn back to look again upon your shores; Do not put out to sea, lest peradventure, In losing me, you might yourselves be lost. The sea I sail has never yet been passed; Minerva breathes, and pilots me Apollo, And Muses nine point out to me the Bears. Ye other few who have the neck uplifted Betimes to th' bread of Angels upon which One liveth here and grows not sated by it, Well may you launch upon the deep salt-sea Your vessel, keeping still my wake before you Upon the water that grows smooth again. Those glorious ones who unto Colchos passed Were not so wonder-struck as you shall be, When Jason they beheld a ploughman made! The con-created and perpetual thirst For the realm deiform did bear us on, As swift almost as ye the heavens behold. Upward gazed Beatrice, and I at her; And in such space perchance as strikes a bolt And flies, and from the notch unlocks itself,

(17) "At home, he dreads the pest of the pilfering thief. Abroad, the danger of bandit and highwayman. So he keeps strict guard within, while never venturing alone without. This is fear. "These six are the greatest of the world's curses. Yet such a man never bestows a thought upon them, until the hour of misfortune is at hand. Then, with his ambitions gratified, his natural powers exhausted, and nothing but wealth remaining, he would gladly obtain one day's peace, but cannot do so. "Wherefore, if reputation is not to be enjoyed and wealth is not to be secured, how pitiable it is that men should harass their minds and wear out their bodies in such pursuits!"

(26) The water also has a fierce deadly spring, for it killeth and consumeth; and so all things that have a life and being must rot and perish in the water.

(8) Through these our deeds (of sacrifice and zeal ), they are terrified among whom there was (once) destruction, and for many (at the time) when the oppressor of Thy holy vows was as the stronger oppressing the weaker . They who have not thought (in consonance) with Thy Righteous Order, from these Thy Good Mind abideth afar.

(4) The sorrowful departure of the Gods from men takes place; bad angels only stay, who mingled with humanity will lay their hands on them, and drive the wretched folk to every ill of recklessness,—to wars, and robberies, deceits, and all those things that are opposed to the soul’s nature. Then shall the Earth no longer hold together; the Sea no longer shall be sailed upon; nor shall the Heaven continue with the Courses of the Stars, nor the Star-course in Heaven. The voice of every God shall cease in the [Great] Silence that no one can break; the fruits of Earth shall rot; nay, Earth no longer shall bring forth; and Air itself shall faint in that sad listlessness. XXVI

(7) But frail, in truth, are those boats, the sacrifices, the eighteen, in which this lower ceremonial has been told. Fools who praise this as the highest good, are subject again and again to old age and death.

(8) When that ass shall hold its neck in the ocean its ears will terrify (asahmêd), and all the water of the wide-formed ocean will shake with agitation, and the side of Ganâvad will tremble (shîvanêd).

(8) "For it is these, it is these that go through our bowels, And throw into disorder men's hearts."

(12) We may close these illustrations of the deceitfulness of the world with the following short parable. Suppose a ship to arrive at a certain well wooded island. The captain of the ship tells the passengers he will stop a few hours there, and that they can go on shore for a short time, but warns them not to delay too long. Accordingly the passengers disembark and stroll in different directions. The wisest, however, return after a short time, and, finding the ship empty, choose the most comfortable places in it. A second band of the passengers spend a somewhat longer time on the island, admiring the foliage of the trees and listening to the song of the birds. Coming on board, they find the best places in the ship already occupied, and have to content themselves with the less comfortable ones. A third party wander still farther, and, finding some brilliantly coloured stones, carry them back to the ship. Their lateness in coming on board compels them to stow themselves away in the lower parts of the ship, where they find their loads of stones, which by this time have lost all their brilliancy, very much in their way. The last group go so far in their wanderings that they get quite out of reach of the captain's voice calling them to come on board, and at last he has to sail away without them. They wander about in a hopeless condition and finally either perish of hunger or fall a prey to wild beasts.

(14) For this reason, then, we do not sleep, nor do we forget the nets that are spread out in hiding, lying in wait for us to catch us. For if we are caught in a single net, it will suck us down into its mouth, while the water flows over us, striking our face. And we will be taken down into the dragnet, and we will not be able to come up from it, because the waters are high over us, flowing from above downward, submerging our heart down in the filthy mud. And we will not be able to escape from them. For man-eaters will seize us and swallow us, rejoicing like a fisherman casting a hook into the water. For he casts many kinds of food into the water because each one of the fish has his own food. He smells it and pursues its odor. But when he eats it, the hook hidden within the food seizes him and brings him up by force out of the deep waters. No man is able, then, to catch that fish down in the deep waters, except for the trap that the fisherman sets. By the ruse of food he brought the fish up on the hook.

(4) He saw them toiling in rowing; and about the fourth watch of the night, they see Jesus walking on the sea, and drawing nigh unto the ship. They cried out for fear, saying, It is a spirit.