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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12792 ***
THE YOUNG CAPTIVES

A Story of Judah and Babylon


by ERASMUS W. JONES


1907




Contents

 PREFACE
 CHAPTER I.
 CHAPTER II.
 CHAPTER III.
 CHAPTER IV.
 CHAPTER V.
 CHAPTER VI.
 CHAPTER VII.
 CHAPTER VIII.
 CHAPTER IX.
 CHAPTER X.
 CHAPTER XI.
 CHAPTER XII.
 CHAPTER XIII.
 CHAPTER XIV.
 CHAPTER XV.
 CHAPTER XVI.
 CHAPTER XVII.
 CHAPTER XVIII.
 CHAPTER XIX.
 CHAPTER XX.
 CHAPTER XXI.
 CHAPTER XXII.
 CHAPTER XXIII.
 CHAPTER XXV.
 CHAPTER XXVI.
 CHAPTER XXVII.




PREFACE


This volume is the fruit of my leisure hours; and those hours in the
life of a pastor are not very abundant. That the story has suffered
from this, I do not believe. Whatever its defects may be, they are not
owing to “the pressure of other duties.” So, dear reader, if this
little work proves a failure, let not that _deep calamity_ be
attributed to any lack but the lack of ability in the author.

The semi-fictitious style of the writing, while displeasing to some,
will be well-pleasing to others. “What I have written I have written;”
perhaps in a way peculiar to myself. I know of some who could write
charming books on this subject in a very different and perhaps a far
superior style; but these I dare not try to imitate. I must write in my
own way. It may be inferior to the way of others; but then it is much
better to move around on your own limbs, even if they _are_ rather
“short metre,” than to parade abroad on stilts in mid-air.

In the colloquies, I have not thought it best to follow strictly the
Oriental style. However pleasing this might have been to some, I am
well persuaded that it could not meet the approbation of the generality
of readers; and as the great design of the work is to bear with weight
upon some of the corrupt usages and wicked policies of the present day,
I thought it advisable to shape the phraseology in conformity with
modern usages.

In the prosecution of this work, I have consulted the following
authorities: Josephus, Rollins’ “Ancient History,” Smith’s “Sacred
Annals,” “Daniel, a Model for Young Men,” by Dr. Scott, Clarke’s,
Henry’s, Scott’s, and Benson’s Commentaries; with some other smaller
works.

In following the “Youths of Judah” through their various trials, at
home and in a land of strangers, I have received much genuine pleasure
and lasting profit; and that the reader, likewise, may be greatly
pleased and benefited, is the sincere desire of his unworthy servant,

ERASMUS W. JONES.




CHAPTER I.


A clash of swords and the cries of excited men resounded through the
streets of the city. Two guardsmen were endeavoring to disarm and
arrest a number of boisterous youths. The latter, evidently young men
of good social position, had been singing bacchanalian songs and
otherwise conducting themselves in a manner contrary to the spirit of
orderliness which King Josiah was striving to establish in Jerusalem.
The youths were intoxicated, and, when the two officers sought to
restrain them, they drew swords and made a reckless attack on the
guardians of the peace.

Although the latter were outnumbered, they were courageous and skillful
men, and soon had three of the party disarmed, accomplishing this
without bloodshed. The fourth and last of the marauders, a handsome and
stalwart young man apparently about twenty-one years of age, although
at first desirous of keeping out of the mêlée, sprang to the aid of his
companions. He cleverly tripped one of the watchmen and grappled with
the other in such a way that the officer could not use his sword arm.
This fierce onslaught gave the other members of the party new courage,
and they joined in the battle again. The conflict might then have been
settled in favor of the lawless party but for an unexpected
circumstance. As one of the guardsmen gave a signal calling for
reinforcements, the second made a desperate attempt to throw his young
antagonist to the ground, and, as they struggled, his face came in
proximity to that of the offending youth. He uttered an exclamation of
surprise.

“Ezrom! Ezrom!” cried he; “don’t add crime to your other follies! Do
you realize what you are doing? See how you are about to bring disgrace
upon your relatives. Make haste away from this place before the
reinforcements come, or nothing will save you from the dungeon. I
beseech you in the name of the king and your beloved family!”

Instantly the plea had its effect. The young man drew back, and,
hastily uttering a few words to his companions, led them away before
they could be recognized by the gathering crowd.

“The officer is a loyal friend of our house,” the youth explained, “and
we have him to thank for getting us out of this trouble, temporarily at
least. But the affair has attracted enough notice so that there is sure
to be an inquiry to-morrow, and I for one will put the city of my birth
behind me before the dawn of day. The son of Salome and the nephew of
King Josiah will never again bring disgrace upon those he loves.
To-night I flee to parts unknown, and bitter indeed will be the
punishment of those of you who are apprehended for our offenses.”

In the vicinity of the Temple stood a beautiful dwelling. From outward
appearances one would readily conclude that the inmates of that fair
abode were not common personages. Wealth and taste were shown on every
hand. To this house, in the heart of Jerusalem, came the young man who
had rendered himself so conspicuous in the quarrel with the guard. He
reached the place by a circuitous route and hastily entered. Although
the hour was late two Hebrew maidens of rare beauty awaited his coming.
They were in a state of anxious solicitude for the return of their
erring brother, whose conduct of late had been such as to cause the
most intense anxiety on the part of the pious household, for Ezrom
belonged to the nobility of Judah and was a blood relation of the
reigning monarch. Seeing his excited countenance, the sisters
understood that something unusual had befallen him, and the elder of
the two sprang to his side.

“What calamity has occurred to you, my dear brother?” she cried.

“Be calm, sweet Serintha,” he replied, “and I will tell you all.”

He then informed his sisters that with his three friends he had been
guilty of taking up arms against the authorities—a crime punished with
great severity.

As Ezrom and his young men companions were connected with families of
high station in Jerusalem, even having royal blood in their veins, they
had the privilege of carrying weapons and were in the habit of going
armed with swords. This unfortunate custom had only served in the end
to get them into serious trouble, and Ezrom for one felt compelled to
leave home during the night.

These startling disclosures brought from both of his sisters a cry of
agony. They implored him to remain, promising to exert every influence
to save him from punishment.

Ezrom’s mind was firmly made up, however, and he declared that he never
would face the impending exposure. He gathered together a few articles
of clothing while his sisters followed him from room to room with
painful sobs. He was soon ready. His younger sister, Monroah, fell on
his neck in a paroxysm of grief. Ezrom could utter but a few broken
words when he essayed to bid them farewell. His favorite harp stood by
his side.

“Take this, my sweet Monroah,” he said, in trembling accents, “and
whenever thy hand shall strike its chords of melody remember that thou
art loved with all the strong affection of a brother’s heart. And now,
in the presence of Jehovah I make the solemn vow that from this hour I
shall reform my ways.”

He then kissed his beloved sisters, and, with burning brow and
tear-dimmed eyes, rushed from his father’s house and away to a land of
strangers.




CHAPTER II.


Nearly a quarter of a century had rolled away, and again the city of
Jerusalem was ablaze with light and social gayety. But vastly different
was the moral tone of the government. The good King Josiah had been
called to rest, and his profligate son Jehoiakim was on the throne.
Nightly the walls of the royal palace rang with the sound of high
revelry. Laughter and drunken song echoed through every part of the
proud edifice. Jehoiakim, following the example of some of his
predecessors, did that which was evil in the sight of the Lord and
filled the Holy City with his foul abominations. His counselors also
lived in forgetfulness of the God of Israel. They flattered the king’s
vanity and encouraged his excesses. Pride and infidelity promenaded
together. Crimes of the darkest hue were being perpetrated with
official sanction, and, although God’s prophets had the courage to
rebuke the sinful rulers and warn them of their fearful doom, the moral
standard of the city went lower and lower.

The night was serene and calm. The glorious orb shone brightly in the
eastern skies and shed her silvery beams on the glassy lakes of Judea.
In the clear moonbeams, those lofty towers of spotless white stood
forth in majestic grandeur on the walls of the great metropolis.
Nature, with smiles of lovely innocence on her fair countenance, was
hushed to sweet repose; but not so the busy thousands that thronged the
wide thoroughfares of Jerusalem. This day was one of the anniversaries
of Jehoiakim’s reign, and at an early hour the city presented a scene
of excitement. The king’s vanity provided everything requisite for a
general display; and, although far from being loved by his numerous
subjects, yet because they could eat, drink, and be merry at the
expense of others, the streets of Jerusalem were thronged with those
who cared far more for the gratification of their appetites than they
did for their vain sovereign.

The royal palace was thronged with the rich, the great, the gay, and
the giddy. Unholy excitement ran high. Wines and strong drinks flowed
freely. Flattery without measure was poured into the ears of the king.
“Long live Jehoiakim!” echoed from a thousand voices. The prophets of
the Most High, who prophesied evil against Jerusalem, were ridiculed
and laughed to scorn; and those few persons of influence who regarded
them in a favorable light were made the subjects of their keenest
sarcasm and their most insulting wit. It was about the third hour of
the night. The king’s heart was merry with wine. A thousand of Judah’s
nobles, with their wives, their sons, and their daughters, sat at the
banquet table. Suddenly a voice, deep and solemn as the grave, was
heard below, as if in the garden at the rear of the palace, crying,
“Woe unto Jehoiakim, King of Judah! Woe! Woe to the Holy City!” The
sound was of an unearthly nature. The assembly heard it, the king heard
it. For a moment, all was still. Again the same deep minor sound was
clearly heard. “Woe unto Jehoiakim, King of Judah! Woe! Woe unto the
Holy City!”

“Seize the accursed wretch!” rang through the great apartment.

The king’s countenance was flushed with anger, while he cried, “Who is
this vile dog that dares insult the King of Judah? Let the abominable
one be dragged into my presence and then receive his instant doom!”

A thorough search was made for the mysterious author of the confusion;
guards and sentinels ran to and fro. Every corner of the enclosures was
thoroughly examined, but all in vain. No trace could be found of the
unwelcome herald. After a short interval, the agitation subsided and
the company was again in the midst of wild revelry and merriment. The
king endeavored to be merry; but the peculiar deep tone of that
messenger of woe still sounded in his ears; and, with all his efforts,
he could not forget it. In the midst of his depravity and wickedness,
he still at times had some dread of that God whom he daily insulted. He
sought to drown his unpleasant thoughts in mixed wines, but the King of
Judah felt a presentiment of some awful calamity near at hand. With
desperation he struggled against it, and joined in the boisterous laugh
and merry song.




CHAPTER III.


Higher and higher ran the excitement of the banquet-room. Loud peals of
laughter broke from the merry throng. Musical instruments poured forth
rich strains of melody. Jehoiakim was complimented on every hand, but
the law of God was ridiculed.

Jehoiakim sat on a magnificent throne, gilded over with pure gold. A
large number of war officers sat near him. A royal herald passed
through the throng, crying, “Listen to the oration of Sherakim! Listen
to the oration of Sherakim!” Soon silence was obtained, and Sherakim
the Orator stood before the vast concourse, and began:

“Princes and Nobles of Judah! With merry hearts, we assemble from
different parts of the kingdom to hail this festal day—the eleventh
anniversary of the reign of our illustrious sovereign. Ye will not
think it strange, nor consider it affectation, when I assure you that I
tremble beneath the weight of honor conferred upon me at this time.

“The death of King Josiah, as ye well know, threw a partial gloom over
Judah. Not because all of us considered his measures expedient and
prudent, but because he was our king, and undoubtedly honest in his
intentions, amid all his imperfections. Let the infirmities and
mistakes of past monarchs be buried in their graves. We are not here to
mourn over the past, but rather to rejoice in the present. We are here
assembled to congratulate one another on the unprecedented happiness
that flows to the nation from the reign of the truly illustrious
sovereign that now adorns the throne of Judah. The faults and
deficiencies of other-day kings are more than made up to the nation in
the bright reign of the most excellent Jehoiakim. We do not expect that
even the superior administration of our matchless monarch will suit the
tastes and desires of weak-minded and superstitious men. The King of
Judah, with all his superior powers, is not capable of satisfying the
unreasonable demands of those deluded creatures who are yet too
numerous in our midst. What good can result to anyone from spending
half his time in yonder Temple, and there going through a long list of
senseless ceremonies, with sad and melancholy looks?

“Princes and Nobles of Judah! We rejoice together under the happy reign
of a king who looks at those things with calm disdain, and smiles at
the foolishness and darkness of other ages. Let us, therefore, banish
gloom and enjoy life. Let deluded visionaries bow their heads,
disfigure their countenances, and utter their plaintive moans; but let
_men_ stand erect, with joyful countenances and merry hearts! They tell
us that Jerusalem is in danger; and they dwell with solemn emphasis on
what they please to call ‘forgetfulness of God.’ They tell us that the
Chaldeans are about to besiege the city, and take it! This old story
will answer well to terrify shallow brains and young children; but,
with men of sense, it will receive that silent contempt which it
deserves. Let the citizens of Judah give themselves no uneasiness on
account of the silly harangues of a wild and deluded fanatic who is a
more fit subject to be confined with unruly lunatics than to be heeded
as a teller of future events. However, I would not advise severity
towards the followers of old Jeremiah. They are rather to be pitied
than blamed. As long as they keep their delusion within their own
circles, we shall let them alone; but let them be careful that they
step not too far and disturb the happiness and enjoyment of others.
Among themselves, let them talk about the ‘Law of their God,’ to their
hearts’ content; but as for us, we know of no _higher law_ than the law
of our king—the edicts of our grand sovereign. To him, and him alone,
we pledge our undivided fidelity. Trusting in the King of Judah, we
cheerfully go forward, and bid defiance to every foe. In conclusion, I
have only to say, Long live Jehoiakim on the throne of Judah!”

“Long live Jehoiakim!” echoed throughout the assembly. The king bowed
and smiled, and Sherakim the Orator’s countenance gave evidence that he
considered his efforts as crowned with success. All was again hilarity
and mirth. The wine passed freely around. Shouts of laughter rang
through the spacious hall. A strange person entered the apartment, at
that end opposite to the spot where the king sat on his golden throne.
His singular appearance arrested the attention of all present. The
stranger had passed the meridian of life. His figure was tall, his
countenance striking. Deep solemnity rested on his visage, which
presented a very strange contrast to the countenances that surrounded
him. With a slow but firm step, he walked through the long passage and
stood in the presence of Jehoiakim.

The vast assembly was soon hushed to silence, and spellbound from
curiosity. Sherakim the Orator gazed on the king. The king, with an
angry brow, gazed on the stranger. The stranger, in return, cast a
withering glance on the king, and stood in his presence with form erect
and fearless. He lifted his hand on high, and thus addressed the
monarch:

“Hear the word of the Lord, O King of Judah, that sittest upon the
throne of David. Woe unto him that buildeth his house by
unrighteousness, and his chambers by wrong; that useth his neighbor’s
service without wages, and giveth him not for his work. Did not thy
father eat and drink and do justice, and was it not well with him? He
judged the cause of the poor, and then it was well with him. ‘Was not
this to know me?’ saith the Lord. But thine eyes and thine heart are
not but for thy covetousness, for to shed innocent blood, and for
oppression and for violence. Therefore, thus saith the Lord concerning
Jehoiakim, ‘He shall be buried with the burial of an ass, drawn and
cast forth beyond the gates of Jerusalem.’”

The stranger turned his back on Jehoiakim, and with the same slow, firm
step, he marched through; and although the king in a rage gave orders
for his arrest, there was none to lift a finger against the man of God.
He was gone! and the assembly was left gazing in mute astonishment at
one another. Such was the unearthly aspect of that mysterious stranger,
that even the great flow of spirit was not proof against its effects.
The deep tones of his mournful predictions reached their ears and even
their hearts. In spite of their abominations and infidelity, they felt
that there was a divinity in that awful voice of warning, and for a
short period, at least, their hearts throbbed with guilty emotions of
fear. Many a proud daughter of Judah trembled and turned pale, as she
gazed on the solemn visage of the uninvited stranger, and as she
listened to the deeptoned eloquence that fell from his lips. Others
there were who felt a strange throbbing of heart, but each one vied
with his fellow to hide his real feelings; and soon, by a show of
bravado, the concourse fell back to the usual hilarity, marked by more
than an ordinary degree of unholy wit, and blasphemous sarcasm.




CHAPTER IV.


The night was far advanced, and there were indications that the great
festival was drawing to a close. The last feature expected was an
address from the king. The hour appointed had arrived, and expectation
ran high, but Jehoiakim made not his appearance. At last Sherakim
appeared before the vast audience, and commenced an apology for the
absence of the monarch in the following strain:

“Princes and Nobles of Judah! It is with heartfelt regret that I am
compelled to convey to you the painful intelligence that our
illustrious sovereign, owing to illness, will not be able to deliver
the royal address. This no one can regret more than your unworthy
servant. Is it any wonder that—”

Just at this time, the king himself, with a flushed countenance and a
very unsteady step, appeared on the stage. It was glaringly evident to
all who were not in the same condition themselves, that the King of
Judah was altogether incompetent for that important branch of business
which, in despite of the kind remonstrances of his personal friends, he
was determined to undertake.

The reader is already aware that the king had been twice disturbed by
the dark predictions of the persecuted Jeremiah. In the attempt to
throw off his embarrassment, and appear courageous before his friends,
he sought relief in mixed wines, of which he partook without restraint.
These, in a measure, proved sufficient to stupefy his guilty
conscience, but they added to his vanity and self-conceit. Long before
the hour arrived for the delivery of the royal address, the King of
Judah’s conversation amounted to nothing more than drunken babbling.

A number of his most influential courtiers endeavored, with all their
tact and ingenuity, to dissuade their sovereign from the attempt,
urging that the excitement of the night had already so prostrated him
that it would be unsafe for his health to enter again into the uproar
of the festive hall. Now, Sherakim had come to the conclusion that
their arguments had finally prevailed, and that the king had been
comfortably removed to his bed-chamber; hence his remarks, which were
cut short by the sudden appearance of the king. Jehoiakim, without any
ceremony, commanded the orator to fall back; which command was
instantly obeyed. Instead of ascending the throne, as usual, he took
the stand that had been vacated by Sherakim, waved his hand, and loudly
laughed, while the audience cheered; then, with violent gestures and
faltering tongue, he went on:

“Princes and Nobles of Judah! I am here! I tell you I am here! Am I not
Jehoiakim, King of Judah? Is not this the glorious reign of my
anniversary? Where is the villain that dares to say it is not? Then
that is a settled question. I hear no contradiction. Who dares
contradict? I hear no reply. Who is afraid of the King of Babylon? If
ye know of such an one, bring the cowardly dog to me, and I will take
off his head—Ha! ha! ha! Old Jeremiah! Where is he? Ah, I’ll soon put
him out of the way. Can there be any danger while the King of Babylon
is fighting with the King of Egypt?

“Princess and Nobles of Judah! I perceive ye understand your sovereign.
We are all safe! He dethroned me three years ago—Ha! ha! ha! Will he do
it again? Shall I pay him any more tribute money? Never! I defy his
power! And to-morrow I shall punish the enemies of Judah who live in
our midst. Tomorrow shall flow rivers of blood!”

The heavy blasts of trumpets were now distinctly heard without, which
arrested the king in his drunken speech. A number of officers rose to
their feet. A young officer in uniform rushed into the banquet-hall and
cried at the top of his voice: “To arms! To arms! To arms, O Judah! The
legions of the Chaldeans are approaching the Holy City! To arms! To
arms! To arms!” and the officer hurried again into the street. The
confusion that ensued was indescribable. Officers ran to and fro in
wild haste. Wives and daughters wailed, lamented, and clung to their
husbands and fathers in the utmost dismay. Hilarity and mirth were
turned into sorrow and bitter lamentations. Those proud and lofty
arches that had so lately rung to the sound of the merry song and
boisterous laugh, now answered to the distracted cry of the fair
daughters of Judah. Thus, in “confusion worse confounded,” broke up the
great festival of the last anniversary of the reign of Jehoiakim, King
of Judah.

The dawn of day presented to the inhabitants of Jerusalem their true
and lamentable condition. A portion of the Chaldean army was already
encamped on the plains before the city, and nearby the remaining
legions were on a rapid march to the same spot. This sudden appearance
of the forces of Nebuchadnezzar before the walls of Jerusalem was owing
to the King of Judah’s refusing to pay the tribute money as agreed on
another occasion.

Three years before, the same king, who then reigned jointly with his
father, brought his forces before the city, and without any resistance
they thought fit to surrender. Jehoiakim was still permitted to reign,
but subjected to be a tributary to the King of Babylon. For two years
this agreement was adhered to by the King of Judah. On the third, the
King of Babylon marched his forces into Egypt, to bring into subjection
the revolting inhabitants, whom he had previously conquered. Jehoiakim,
trusting that the Egyptians would be able to stand their ground, and,
peradventure, prove victorious, thought this a favorable time to throw
off the Chaldean yoke; and consequently, scornfully refused to pay the
tribute money, and treated the Chaldean ambassador with haughtiness.
But, contrary to the expectations of the King of Judah, the Egyptians,
when they beheld the powerful legions of the Chaldeans, gave up their
rebellion, and promised allegiance to the King of Babylon.
Nebuchadnezzar, enraged by the conduct of the King of Judah, ordered
his forces in Egypt to march and encamp before the walls of Jerusalem.

Early in the morning of that fatal day, Jehoiakim called together a
grand council, in order to deliberate on the best measures to be
pursued in the painful emergency. Some advised a strenuous resistance;
others said this would be vain—that the city was not able to stand a
siege for one month because they were destitute of provisions, and,
moreover, the army was in a very imperfect condition. The king thought
it advisable to show no resistance, but to treat the King of Babylon
with, civility. Finally, the grand council agreed that it was not
expedient to resist the entrance of the King of Babylon, and concluded
to throw open the gates of the city.

As yet the Chaldeans remained stationary, about thirty furlongs to the
south. About the third hour they began to advance, their glittering
arms, dazzling in the bright sunbeams, giving them a grand and imposing
appearance. The walls of the city were thronged with anxious gazers,
and all hearts throbbed with deep and painful anxiety. Nearer and
nearer they approached! The rumbling of their war chariots fell heavily
on the ear. The heavy hoofs of their spirited chargers made the earth
tremble. The loud blasts of their numerous trumpeters were carried on
the wings of the wind, while the echoes answered from the lofty towers
of ancient Salem. Suddenly the massive gates were thrown open. Then a
grand shout from the whole army rent the air. For hours they poured in
through the wide portals, and once more the gods of the Gentiles were
escorted in triumph through the wide thoroughfares of the “City of the
Great King.”




CHAPTER V.


The King of Judah’s treatment of the Chaldean ambassador, in regard to
the tribute money, had so exasperated the King of Babylon, that he was
determined to chasten his audacity with rigor. This monarch, at this
period of his reign, was of rather a mild disposition, but, like his
sires before him, a love of conquest had become with him a strong
passion.

Three years before, he had dealt with much mildness toward the
inhabitants of Jerusalem. On taking the city, he charged his soldiers
to show no indignity to the inhabitants, under the severest
penalty—which charge was well heeded. Towards Jehoiakim he also evinced
a kind disposition. With but few restrictions, he was permitted to
reign. Now that Jehoiakim had abused these acts of kindness, had
violated solemn obligations, and, in addition to all this, had publicly
ridiculed the ambassador, Nebuchadnezzar’s indignation was kindled to a
flame.

The King of Judah on this occasion, as well as on all other occasions
of embarrassment and perplexity, sought relief in mixed wines. These
stimulated his courage for the time being, which, being left to its own
resources, was of a low order; but, under the effects of these
deceitful liquids, he became heroic.

“Jared!” said Jehoiakim, “where is that Sherakim who was so full of
fight at the banquet hall last night?”

“As my soul liveth, O king, I know not his whereabouts. I have not seen
him since early dawn; and then he appeared to be in haste, and was in
no mood for conversation.”

“A curse on his cowardly head! I suppose these Chaldeans have put his
valor to flight. Jared! how many armed men have we within the royal
enclosures?”

“Two hundred of the royal guard, O king, are present—all armed and
ready to face death for their illustrious sovereign.”

“It is well!” said Jehoiakim, filling his bowl. “Ha, ha, ha! Let the
King of Babylon beware of my vengeance? What does the fool desire? The
King of Judah is not to be frightened. Jared! where is Sherakim?”

“Sherakim, O king, is not to be found.”

“Ah, I had forgotten. Sherakim not to be found! Ha, ha, ha! Sherakim
not to be found! The cowardly babbler! Jared, command more wine!
Sherakim has fled—he is afraid of a shadow—he has not the courage of a
maiden. Have I not known him of old? Did not a thunderstorm always make
him cry? Ha, ha, ha! Sherakim the orator! fool! coward!”

“A messenger, O king, from the King of the Chaldeans, desires to be
introduced into thy presence. Shall I conduct him to the apartment?”

“Is he alone or accompanied?”

“Accompanied by armed men.”

“Let the messenger be admitted, but let the guard remain behind.”

The messenger was accordingly ushered into the presence of Jehoiakim.

“And what business of importance has brought thee into the presence of
the King of Judah?” asked Jehoiakim, with curling lip.

“I stand in thy presence as a bearer of a message from my sovereign
master, King of Babylon.”

“Methinks I have seen thee on another occasion.”

“And was not my behavior honorable and becoming?”

“Did the King of Judah say otherwise?”

“Yea, otherwise.”

“How?”

“By his vile and haughty treatment of the king’s ambassador.”

“Be sparing with thine insolence, or at this time thou mayest fare far
worse.”

“The Chaldean ambassador is not to be frightened by idle threats from
one who lives at the mercy of his master.”

“Thinkest thou thyself safe because thou art surrounded with a few
soldiers? Knowest thou not that within my call there are hundreds of
armed men, ready to execute my will?”

“And knowest thou not that Jerusalem is in the hands of the Chaldeans,
and that threescore thousand men of war are stationed in the city?”

“Threescore thousand! But come, sir, what is the message of the King of
Babylon to the King of Judah? Let thy words be few.”

“Then thou art commanded, without delay, to appear in my master’s
presence, and there learn his sovereign will concerning thyself and the
city.”

“_Commanded!_ Ha, ha, ha! Go thy way, and inform thy master that if he
desires to see Jehoiakim, King of Judah, he must call at the royal
palace, where he may have his desires gratified.”

“Then I go. Faithfully will I convey thy answer to my illustrious
sovereign.”

The minister hastened from the royal palace, to convey to the king the
result of the interview, while the King of Judah, waxing more
desperate, still applied himself to his cups.

The King of Babylon, on his arrival in Jerusalem, ordered his
magnificent royal tent to be pitched in the center of a large square in
the very heart of the city. The great body of the army was stationed in
another part—the royal guard remaining near the royal tent. From this
spot went forth the summons to the King of Judah to appear in the
presence of the King of Babylon.

“Where is his Royal Highness, the King of Judah?” asked Nebuchadnezzar.

“In his palace, O king, indulging in excess of wine, apparently
perfectly at ease.”

“Is he not forthcoming?” asked the king, with a darkened brow.

“He laughs to scorn thy commands, O king! and wishes to inform thee
that if thou hast aught to communicate he may be consulted at his
palace.”

“By all the gods, the fellow is mad!” cried Nebuchadnezzar in a
passion. “I’ll have to bend his stubborn will—yea, I _shall_ do it. I
thirst not for his blood; but let the guilty monarch beware how he
trifles with my commands! Balphoras! haste thee back with a double
guard, and inform Jehoiakim that my orders are not to be trifled with;
and moreover, that if he persists in his stubbornness, I shall send
sufficient force to drag him into my presence as a guilty culprit.”

The communication was in perfect accordance with the desires and
expectations of the Chaldean officer. Balphoras was in possession of an
amiable mind. He was respectful to his superiors, kind and gentle to
his inferiors. Wherever he was known among his countrymen he was
greatly beloved. However, he was not insensible to injury or
indifferent to abuse. He felt deeply; but had learned to be a greater
conqueror than his master, inasmuch as he that governeth his own spirit
is greater than he that taketh a city. Balphoras, without being unkind
or selfish, desired to witness the humiliation of the King of Judah.
The command of his king, therefore, was put in immediate execution, and
the Chaldean minister, accompanied by a strong and imposing guard, once
more was on his way to demand admission into the presence of the King
of Judah.


“Jared! Well would I have served those guilty dogs, if I had given
orders to have their heads taken off. What sayest thou, Jared?”

“They richly deserved it, O king,” answered Jared, with his face in
another direction, on which played a suppressed smile.

“Let them beware how they insult the King of Judah! Jared! hast thou
learned aught of Sherakim’s whereabouts?”

“Naught, O king.”

“Ungrateful dog! Cowardly fool! Miserable brawler!—Sherakim! Bah!
Jared, order more wine. Whom should Jehoiakim fear? Jared! what trouble
is there in the porch? Haste thee and see.”

Jared hastened to obey the commands of his drunken sovereign, and
presently returned.

“The same messenger from the King of the Chaldeans demands an interview
with the King of Judah.”

“Let him be admitted. Ha! ha! What next?”

Balphoras, with a firm, dignified step, walked into the presence of
Jehoiakim, who, in spite of his wine-propped courage, almost trembled
beneath the Chaldean’s penetrating glance.

“And what hast thou to communicate at this time?”

“My communication is short and decisive.”

“The shorter the better—let it be delivered.”

“My illustrious sovereign, the King of Babylon, wishes the King of
Judah to understand, that his commands are not to be trifled with; and,
moreover, that if the King of Judah persists in his stubbornness, he
must be dragged into his presence as a guilty culprit.”

“Who dares to utter such words in my presence?” cried Jehoiakim, in a
rage.

“The Chaldean minister, as the words of his illustrious sovereign.”

“Go and tell thine ‘illustrious sovereign’ that Jehoiakim spits upon
his insolent demands.”

“Thy raving is in vain. Better far to bridle thy rage and comply. Be it
known to the King of Judah, that I have three hundred chosen men of war
at my bidding, who wait for the word of command. What is the choice of
the King of Judah?”

“Be it known to thee, insolent fool,” cried the exasperated king, “that
Jehoiakim laughs to scorn thy threats, and spurns thy counsels.”

“Alas for thine obstinacy, proud and reckless man!” answered Balphoras,
as he left the apartment; “thy doom is sealed!”

After the departure of the Chaldean, Jehoiakim gave orders to his
officers to be ready, at all hazards, to defend the royal enclosures
against all further intrusion from the Chaldeans.

“A curse upon his guilty head! Ha, ha! ‘Dragged into his presence,’ eh!
Never! Fools! Villains! Let them beware of Jehoiakim’s vengeance.”

While the King of Judah thus indulged in his wild delirium, a strong
detachment of the Chaldean army was on a rapid march towards the royal
palace, with orders to make a prisoner of Jehoiakim, and bring him into
the presence of the King of Babylon. They soon reached the king’s gate,
and demanded admittance; which demand was promptly and haughtily
refused. This was but the signal for attack, and a furious combat
followed. Both the Chaldeans and Jehoiakim’s men fought valiantly. The
passage was defended with extreme bravery and valor; but after a most
desperate struggle, the Chaldeans proved successful in forcing an
entrance. The sentry at the palace door was soon overcome, and a
company of Chaldeans rushed into the royal mansion; and, after some
search, they found the king. Without ceremony he was dragged from his
hiding place, and ejected from his palace. A shout of triumph broke
from the Chaldeans, which only exasperated their antagonists. Another
desperate rush was made for the rescue of their king, but it proved
unavailing. He was conducted to the open street amid a general fight.
The din of battle brought together vast multitudes, who, seeing their
king a captive, added greatly to the strength of Judah’s forces; and
the Chaldeans found themselves continually attacked from unexpected
quarters. Thus the conflict waxed hotter and hotter as the Chaldeans
desperately fought their way through the exasperated men of Judah.

Finally, the King of Judah was carried into the presence of
Nebuchadnezzar and had he, even then, humbled himself, he might have
escaped an awful doom. The behavior of Jehoiakim in the presence of the
Chaldean monarch was that of a madman. To every inquiry he replied in
the most insulting and abusive epithets; and to seal his own fate he
madly rushed on the King of Babylon with his sword, and had it not been
that this potentate was on his guard, it would have gone hard with him.
This was beyond endurance. Nebuchadnezzar, stung to the quick, grasped
his sword, commanded his officers to stand aloof, and faced his enraged
foe. They made a few passes, and the sword of the Chaldean was plunged
into the heart of the King of Judah.”

“Take the ungrateful dog,” said the excited Babylonian, “and drag his
worthless carcass, and throw it outside the city walls.”

The command was immediately put in execution.

Thus perished the wicked king, according to the word of the Lord, by
the mouth of his servant Jeremiah.




CHAPTER VI.


Nebuchadnezzar called together a number of the leading men of Judah and
explained his intentions with regard to the government. He also
described the killing of Jehoiakim. It was not the policy of the
conqueror to establish any rigorous system of public control. He
required that Judah should remain as a tributary power, but he desired
the country to make progress in its own way, and he took occasion to
proclaim that Jeconiah should reign in the place of his father,
Jehoiakim, who had just met his fate at the hands of the invader. Those
who listened to Nebuchadnezzar were well pleased with his words and
also with the elevation of Jeconiah to the throne.

The Babylonian ruler, having now fully accomplished his ends, gave
orders for the early departure of the victorious army for the plains of
Chaldea. He decided to take with him, as prisoners of war, a number of
youths of Judah. He had the twofold object of showing to his people
some tangible evidence of his victory and of gaining for his court the
advantage of having as aids and attendants some of the more cultured
young men of Judea. With the aid of Jeconiah a list of suitable youths
was soon prepared by the victorious monarch’s officers. These chosen
ones were notified, the day of departure was fixed, and all energies
were bent toward the speedy return of the army to the land of the
Euphrates.


Let us now visit some of the homes of Judah, where the mandate of the
Babylonian king had fallen as a pall upon the inmates. With one of
these homes, located centrally and bearing evidence of prosperity and
culture, the reader is already somewhat acquainted. In the room where
young Ezrom took leave of his sisters, twenty-five years before, an
interesting group had gathered. Monroah, the last survivor of Salome’s
children, had wedded Amonober, and four lovely children blessed their
union. These youths were now orphans, however, the youngest being a
maiden of sixteen, who possessed the rare beauty for which the family
was noted. Her name was Perreeza. The three brothers were named
Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah. The love of these brothers for their
sister was returned with all the ardor of an affectionate and sincere
girl. These youths were among those selected as prisoners of war.

In company with the young men, when they broke the news of the king’s
decision to Perreeza, was Jeremiah the Prophet.

“Oh, brothers!” exclaimed the distressed maiden, “must ye be torn away
from an only sister? Oh, man of God! What will Perreeza do? My heart
will break. Oh, my brothers! We cannot part!” and she fell on the neck
of Hananiah and wept bitterly.

“We think it not strange, dear damsel,” said the prophet, “that thy
young heart is made sad. But the things that are enshrouded in mystery
to-day will yet beam forth in wondrous wisdom.”

“If to Babylon my brothers go, I must accompany them,” said Perreeza,
with much decision. “It must be so! Jerusalem will have no charms for
me when those I love dearer than life are far away!”

“Surely that would be our joy and desire,” replied Azariah, “but alas!
I fear it will not be possible to have such a request granted. The
exact number is selected and no females are marked on the captive
list.”

“But dear brother, an effort must be put forth without delay to procure
thy sister permission.”

“Yea, beloved, and an effort will be put forth, promptly and urgently.”

This answer of the brother partly soothed the troubled spirit of the
young damsel, and the suggestion on her part opened a little door of
hope before the brothers.

Amonober, father of these interesting youths, was a brother of King
Josiah. Another brother was Baromon, who had died leaving a widow,
Josepha, a son, Daniel, and two daughters. The two families stood among
the foremost in the religious and social life of the Holy City. Young
Daniel was one of the noble youths chosen by Nebuchadnezzar to go to
Babylon. His pious and noble mother and sisters, after their first
outburst of grief, committed him to God’s care. They became reconciled
to their bereavement through the counsel of Jeremiah, who declared that
the God of Israel was shaping the whole affair for the advancement of
his kingdom on earth.




CHAPTER VII.


Daniel and the Amonober children, from their first interview with the
officers of the King of Babylon, had left a very favorable impression
on the minds of those high dignitaries; and although, in reality, they
were but captives of war, they were treated with that high civility due
to nobility and rank. This caused much astonishment to the youths
themselves, and served in part to calm and reconcile them to their lot.
The ardent desire of Perreeza to accompany them to the land of their
captivity had been made the subject of their thoughts, and served if
possible to deepen in their minds the fountain of pure affection.

Early next morning, the brothers bent their footsteps towards the
temporary residence of one of Nebuchadnezzar’s officers, with whom, at
this time, they had to do. The manner in which they formerly had been
received gave them some encouragement to hope that their mission would
be crowned with success. They soon reached the “spot, and were
admitted.

“And what is the pleasure of these young noblemen of Judah?” asked
Barzello, with a pleasant smile.

“Let thy young servants find favor in the sight of their kind and noble
master,” said Hananiah, “while with deep humility they make known their
request. The illustrious Barzello, we trust, will pardon us for this
intrusion upon the time of the King of Babylon’s noble officer, and
listen patiently to their urgent prayer. Thy kind deportment towards
thy servants, for these many days, has given them courage thus to stand
in thy presence without any painful, distracted fears. We are the sons
of Amonober, the brother of King Josiah, under whose reign, for many
years, Judah smiled amid peace and plenty. Thy servants were early
instructed in the religion of our sainted father, who, with our beloved
mother, feared the God of Israel, and worshiped in his holy Temple.
While thy servants were yet young, Amonober our father died, and was
gathered to his fathers, and today he calmly rests by the side of his
illustrious brother, King Josiah. Thus the best of mothers was left a
widow with her fatherless children. Thy servants, feeling it no less a
pleasure than a duty, endeavored to comply with our father’s dying
request, by being ever kind to our beloved mother. Thus time passed
away for two years, and our pathway once more seemed to be bright and
pleasant, when suddenly our mother died. Thy servants were called to
stand by the side of her couch before she departed, and these were her
parting words:

“‘To you, my sons, I commit my sweet Perreeza! Let her youthful feet be
tenderly watched by the eyes of love. Whisper words of sweet, brotherly
affection in her youthful ears. Oh, deal gently and kindly with the
dear, motherless lamb! Remember the dying request of a mother, and
throw your arms of protection around your orphan sister.’

“Having concluded these words, our mother closed her eyes, and gave up
the ghost. This beloved object of a mother’s dying request has been,
for many years, the center of thy servants’ joy and happiness, and one
smile from our own Perreeza will often turn our darkness into day. Our
love for her is returned with all the ardor of a sister’s pure
affection. The sad news of our destined departure from this our native
land has well-nigh overwhelmed her heart with sorrow. The thought of
parting makes her spirit faint; and thy servants are sincere when they
assure their compassionate master that they greatly fear that, if
compelled to be separated from her brothers, Perreeza will sink under
the deep weight of sorrow, and pass away to the spirit land. In
compliance with her very urgent request, thy servants at this time
stand as petitioners before their benevolent superior. We are not here
to ask to be released from any demand. We patiently yield to the stern
necessity that calls us away; but we are here, O most excellent
Barzello! to ask a favor for another, which, if granted, will always
live in our grateful memories: it is, that Perreeza, our beloved
sister, be permitted to accompany us to the land of the Chaldeans.”

“And how old is this young sister, of whom ye speak in such terms of
commendation?”

“Perreeza has but just commenced her seventeenth year.”

“This request must be presented before my lord, the king. Call again at
the setting of the sun, and ye shall learn his pleasure in this matter.
Be assured that my influence shall be exerted in your behalf.”

“And the prayers of thy servants shall always ascend to the God of
Judah for ten thousand blessings on the head of Barzello;” and in the
most respectful manner, they left the apartment.


“Barzello,” said the King of Babylon, in a pleasant mood, “are my
chosen captives in a ready trim for their departure?”

“All ready at the word of command, O king.”

“But what thinkest thou of those brothers? Hast thou had an opportunity
of testing their merits?”

“The brothers and cousins, O king, have been repeatedly in my presence,
and have given me positive proof that they are youths of very superior
abilities and great worth. Their amiable deportment and truly noble
bearing have left on my mind a very favorable impression. Indeed, the
youths of Babylon, who pride themselves so much on their superior
learning and high attainments, might learn precious lessons of wisdom
from these very youths of Judah.”

“By the gods! Barzello,” said the king, laughing heartily, “if at this
rate these youths continue to grow upon thy good opinion, before many
days thou wilt be a convert to the religion of Judah!”

“Of the religion of Judah I know but little; but if these children are
a fair specimen of its operations, I cannot think that there is
anything very dangerous or offensive in it.”

“Well, when we arrive in Chaldea, we shall give their powers a fair
trial. But are there any more brothers in that family?”

“No more, O king,” replied the officer, inwardly thanking the king for
the question. “There are but three brothers and one young sister.”

“She will be a comfort to her mother in the absence of her sons,” said
the king, in a thoughtful mood.

“But the young damsel has no mother. For many years the children have
been both fatherless and motherless.”

“Then there must be bitter parting there, Barzello! This young damsel,
an only orphan sister, must be bound to her brothers by more than
common ties.”

“True, O king,” answered Barzello, somewhat animated. “The thought of
parting grieves them beyond description. It was but this morning that
the brothers sought an interview with me on this very point, and
pleaded in her behalf with such melting eloquence as well-nigh robbed
me of all my generalship. I dismissed them by stating that I would lay
their petition before my lord the king, and that I would give them his
answer at the setting of the sun.”

“Barzello!” said the king, in a firm tone, “I cannot change my purpose
in regard to those brothers. Nothing shall prevail upon me to give them
up. To Babylon they must go! I have spoken the word! Let there be no
pleading in their behalf—I cannot grant their petition.”

“I humbly beg my lord the king’s forgiveness,” replied the officer,
with a smile; “but let me assure him that the noble youths have made no
petition of that nature.”

“But what _do_ they ask?” asked the king, with some astonishment.

“They ask, O king, as the greatest favor, that this their young orphan
sister, be permitted by the king to accompany her brothers to the land
of the Chaldeans.”

“And has not this small favor been granted?”

“Barzello now stands in the presence of his sovereign in behalf of the
Hebrew damsel, asking for her a permission.”

“And the permission is granted. And furthermore, Barzello, see that she
is well provided for, and dealt gently with, for the maiden is of
kingly line.”

“All this shall be strictly attended to, O king,” said the well-pleased
officer, as he respectfully left the presence of the monarch.

It was now late in the afternoon. The “regent of day” was gradually
fading from the sight of the inhabitants of the valley, and was
smilingly sinking beyond the western hills, and Barzello hastened his
footsteps toward his headquarters. After having reached his apartment,
he seated himself, and indulged in some reflections, which, if we might
judge from his countenance, we might pronounce to be of a pleasing
nature.

While thug musing, he was roused by the entrance of one of his
servants.

“What now, Franzo?”

“Three young men and a damsel stand below, desiring the favor of an
interview with my master.”

“Let them be conducted into my presence; and see thou to it that they
receive due respect from all below. They are persons of distinction.”

The sister and brothers were conducted into the presence of Barzello,
where again they were received with peculiar attention.

“The officer of the king of the Chaldeans is always happy to meet his
young friends, and will consider it a great pleasure to add to their
comfort and happiness. And this young damsel, I am led to believe, is
your sister of whom ye spake this morning.”

“This is Perreeza, our sister,” replied Azariah; “her sense of
obligation to our noble friend for his generous feelings in her behalf,
has prompted her to embrace the privilege of appearing in person, to
acknowledge her deep gratitude.”

“It gives me much pleasure to behold your sister, but I am not aware of
any service rendered that calls for a great amount of gratitude.”

“Thy servants,” said Azariah, “in compliance with the directions
received this morning, are in thy presence to learn the will of the
king, in regard to thy servants’ request, as made known to him through
the intervention of his generous officer.”

“Ye did well to come at the appointed hour. I am always well pleased
with strict punctuality. I am happy to inform you, that your request in
regard to your sister is very readily granted; and, moreover, the king
has given me particular directions to see that she has everything
requisite to her perfect comfort in journeying, which directions will
be obeyed with the utmost pleasure.”

Silent tears of joy coursed down the cheeks of both sister and
brothers. They were so affected by the result of their effort, together
with the unaffected tenderness of Barzello, that for a short interval
they could in no wise give utterance to their feelings. Perreeza was
the first to break the spell.

“The most excellent Barzello will please accept the humble thanks of an
orphan maiden of Judah, for his kind regards. The God of the fatherless
and motherless will surely reward his servant, and cause blessings and
prosperity to rest on his household. Thy kindness shall not be
forgotten. Our daily prayers shall ascend to the God of Judah in thy
behalf, with the smoke of our morning and evening sacrifices.”

“And I trust the youthful maiden of Judah,” said the officer, in a
voice far from being firm, “will live to see many happy years in the
fair land of the Chaldeans.”

The interview was at an end, and the youths of Judah quietly directed
their footsteps to that beautiful mansion which was well known in that
vicinity as the “House of Amonober.”




CHAPTER VIII.


On the journey to Babylon, nothing of note transpired. The royal
captives continued to receive peculiar marks of attention and very
clear demonstrations of regard. They readily and justly concluded that
all this originated in the generous heart of Barzello; and thus he
became more and more endeared to them.

The King of the Chaldeans’ return to Babylon, at the head of his
victorious army, was hailed with loud acclamations of joy. The great
capital of his extensive empire was filled to overflowing with exulting
thousands, to welcome the victorious monarch from a brilliant campaign.
Proud banners floated in triumph on the high turrets, while a thousand
minstrels filled the air with their high-sounding melody.

Nebuchadnezzar was as yet but a young monarch. He spared no pains to
render himself acceptable to his people, by a worthy deportment and a
liberal encouragement of all improvements throughout his realm, and
especially within the city of Babylon. At this period, he was greatly
beloved by his subjects, and his popularity was plainly visible in the
unbounded welcome with which he was received and escorted to the royal
palace.

Not far from the king’s palace stood a splendid mansion of broad and
lofty dimensions. Within the enclosures, everything was arranged with
faultless taste. In front, large beds of roses unveiled their charms,
and sent forth their sweet fragrance. Each side was well ornamented
with shrubbery, and the rear beautified with a garden abundantly filled
with delicious fruits. With the permission of the reader, we will now
enter. In a richly-furnished apartment within this noble edifice, sat a
man of commanding exterior, attired in rich, military official costume.
Caressingly on his bosom leaned a young damsel, over whose head sixteen
summers might have gently rolled. Joy and gladness beamed in every
feature of her lovely countenance.

“Oh, happy day! Father is home again! Jupheena will now be happy. The
time of thy absence seemed long and dreary; but thou art back again in
our happy home!”

“Yea, my child, I am really home again, and am happy to find my sweet
Jupheena as well and as sprightly as ever.”

“But my dear father has happily returned sooner than we expected; thy
stay in Egypt was but short.”

“Short, indeed, my daughter. Pharaoh-Necho, when he saw our powerful
legions, soon came to terms of peace; and in this I admire his wisdom.
From Egypt, we marched into the capital of Judah, and gained an
entrance without resistance.

“My stay in Jerusalem, thou knowest, was but short, and my facilities
for observation were not very favorable; but owing to peculiar
circumstances, I became partially acquainted with those in Judah who
left deep and happy impressions on my mind. I found a few young men of
the kingly line, who, in my opinion, were far superior in mind to any I
ever had the pleasure of beholding.”

“Dear father! that is saying much. Then they must have been very
different from their royal relation, of whom thou speakest.”

“Thou hast well said, my daughter. Happy would it have been for that
distracted nation if one of those youths had graced the throne of
Judah, instead of the profligate Jehoiakim.”

“Then it appears, surely,” said the daughter smilingly, “that true
excellence and superiority are not confined to Chaldea. But I hear
nothing in praise of Judah’s _maidens_.”

“The maidens of Judah are fair—some of them exceedingly fair. Thou wilt
wonder, perhaps, to hear that the peculiar grace and artless eloquence
of one of these maids of Judah so affected thy father’s heart, that he
could not refrain from shedding tears.”

“And have these interesting captives arrived in the city?”

“Yea, my daughter, they are already in Babylon.”

“And shall not thy daughter have the pleasure of seeing this orphan
maid of Judah?”

“Yea, verily! this day thou shalt see her; and if thou art well pleased
with her and with her society, she may be an inmate of my house, and a
companion for my daughter.”

“But can the young maiden converse in Chaldee?”

“She speaks our language, my daughter, with a degree of fluency that is
really astonishing. It is evident that her attainments are quite
superior, and that all the advantages which Judah’s capital could
afford have been lavished upon her.”

“Oh! it will be delightful to learn beautiful stories of other lands,
and have such a sweet and lovely creature for my companion; I am almost
impatient to see her.”

“I will have her conveyed hither without delay. If I mistake not, the
maiden will be delighted to tarry under the roof of one whom she calls
her ‘bountiful benefactor.’ Thy father will now leave for a short
season, to attend to some business matters of importance. In two hours
I return.” And kissing his sweet Jupheena, the soldier hurried out of
the apartment. A chariot stood ready at his door, into which he
stepped, and was hurried away to another part of the city.




CHAPTER IX.


The royal captives, on arriving in the city, were conveyed, according
to the strict orders of Barzello, to certain appropriate apartments,
prepared for their reception, and nothing requisite to their comfort
and entertainment was left wanting. On the very first day of their
arrival the God-fearing youths found themselves to be favorites in a
land of strangers. The God in whom they trusted gave them adequate
strength for their peculiar trials. They found themselves in possession
of energy of spirit and courage, that was truly a source of wonderment
to themselves. They thought of friends and home with all the fervor of
pure affection; but it was not accompanied with those painful,
agonizing emotions that are wont to accompany the remembrance of native
land and absent friends; in regard to which state of mind they could
well adopt the language of one of their happiest monarchs: “This is the
Lord’s doing, and it is marvelous in our sight.”

It was about the ninth hour. The youthful group were seated together.

“Well, cousin,” said Azariah, smiling and looking round the apartment,
“this has more the appearance of being guests of royalty than poor
captives of war.”

“Yea, truly,” replied Daniel; “and in this we clearly see the
loving-kindness of our God, by whom princes rule and kings govern.”

“Our kind friend, Barzello,” said Hananiah, “has promised to call on us
ere the sun sets.”

“And he will certainly fulfill his promise,” said Mishael.

“We have proved him a genuine and a wise counselor,” said Daniel.

“And his loving-kindness shall ever remain deeply graven on our
memories,” said Azariah.

“Perreeza hopes,” said the sister, “that it may be her good providence
to be always near the good man, where she may often see his smiling
face.”

“Our excellent master, under the direction of the King of kings, will
order all things for the best,” said Hananiah.

“Let us always remember the parting admonitions of our good Prophet,”
said Mishael, “and calmly submit our all to the wisdom of the Keeper of
Israel.”

“Even so, amen!” replied the others.

Quick footsteps were heard without. The door opened, and Barzello
entered the apartment. The youths unitedly arose, and bowed low, in
humble token of respect to the noble officer.

[Illustration: Barzello entered the apartment]

“I trust my young friends from Judah find these apartments a
comfortable resting place.”

“Thy servants,” replied Daniel, “are overwhelmed with thy kindness, and
hope, in some sphere, by a true and honest deportment, to be able to
show their benefactor that his kindness is duly appreciated.”

“And how does our young maid of Judah feel after her long journey?”
asked Barzello, as he smilingly approached Perreeza.

“Thy maid of Judah is in good health; and being so well provided for on
her journey, she experienced but a very slight inconvenience.”

“But she must be further provided for. She must have a permanent home
in the vicinity of her brothers. An officer of the king, in the city,
with whom I am well acquainted, having learned something of the history
and deportment of this your sister, would desire her, if not contrary
to her wishes, to be an inmate of his house, and a companion for his
only child—a maiden of sixteen summers. Would this be acceptable to the
young damsel?”

“Abundantly acceptable, most kind Barzello!” said Perreeza. “Thy young
handmaid is ready at any time to do the pleasure of her protector.”

“Then I will accompany thee thither without any delay.”

Perreeza withdrew to another apartment, and in a short time, returned,
attired in her rich native costume, and giving Barzello a sign that she
was ready, they both left the apartment. Soon Perreeza found herself by
the side of her kind friend, in a richly-ornamented chariot, that
hurried them through the wide and busy thoroughfares. Perreeza was
somewhat astonished at the greatness and grandeur of this Gentile
metropolis.

“Your Babylon is truly a great city,” said she.

“The greatest on record. How in thine eye compares its beauty with the
capital of Judah?”

“In the ornamental—in splendid gardens and bubbling fountains—Babylon
surely stands far superior.”

The chariot halted, and Perreeza found herself in front of one of the
most beautiful mansions she had ever beheld.

“And is this the officer’s mansion?” asked Perreeza, gazing with a
degree of astonishment at the great structure.

“Yea, this is it, fair damsel. But thou appearest somewhat embarrassed.
Let the maid of Judah have no fears, for I have every confidence that
she will do well.”

“Is the noble officer at home?” asked the maid, endeavoring to appear
composed.

“He is about the premises, and will soon be in,” replied Barzello, with
a smile.

“What delicious flowers!” cried Perreeza, breathing a little easier.

“Babylon abounds with the like, fair damsel. But come, let us enter,
for the officer’s daughter is in haste to behold the youthful maid from
the land of Judah.”

Barzello ascended those steps of spotless marble, and, with a degree of
freedom that seemed to surprise his young companion, he entered a
spacious apartment, richly furnished and beautifully ornamented, where
Jupheena was ready to receive them, with loving smiles of welcome.

“Jupheena, this is the young maid from the land of Judah, of whom thy
father spoke,” and, directing his language to Perreeza, at the same
time giving Jupheena a glance that was readily understood, he said,
“and, young damsel, this is the officer’s daughter of whom I spoke.”

The two maidens, as if by a magic spell, were drawn to each other’s
arms.

“I shall leave you for a short period, Jupheena,” said the officer;
“thy father will soon return; when he comes, thou wilt be most happy to
present to him thy young companion,” and Barzello left the apartment,
and thus the two fair ones were left together.

“I am happy to see my young friend from Judah,” said Jupheena. “I have
been deeply affected by thy history, and that of thy noble brothers. I
trust, that in the absence of thy friends, we shall be able to make
thee happy.”

“Since we left our beloved Jerusalem, and even before, we have
experienced naught but kindness from the noble officers of the king,
especially the most excellent Barzello. His sympathies have well-nigh
overwhelmed us, and we shall love him as long as we live, and implore
the blessing of the God of Israel to rest upon his household. Was it
not he that kindly spoke of thy young handmaiden to thy father?”

“I am not aware who it was that first spoke to my father of the maid of
Judah,” replied Jupheena, smiling, “but Barzello, surely, is deeply
interested in thy welfare.”

Barzello again entered, and Perreeza looked for the other officer, but
no other officer was present. Jupheena arose, and, taking her young
companion by the hand, led her to her father.

“Maid of Judah, I have now the pleasure of presenting thee to my own
dear father, the king’s officer, under whose roof I trust thou wilt
find a welcome home.”

“And this is his only daughter, Jupheena, of whom he spoke,” said
Barzello, highly delighted. “I trust the maid of Judah will find her a
pleasant companion.”

Such was the effect of this innocent piece of deception on the mind of
young Perreeza, that all the response she could make, was to fall on
the neck of her young companion, and weep aloud. But those tears were
tears of joy; and those lofty walls were witnesses to the fast falling
of other tears than those shed by the maid of Judah.

“Blessed be the Lord God of Israel!” cried Perreeza, when partially
recovered, “who hath given me favor in the eyes of this people! May
Jehovah smile upon his servant Barzello, and upon his lovely daughter,
who thus throw open their door to welcome an orphan maid of Israel.”

“Thou shalt find under this roof a welcome home,” said Barzello,
affectionately taking Perreeza by the hand; “in Jupheena thou wilt find
a worthy companion and an affectionate friend.”

“Thy daughter,” answered Jupheena, “will always esteem it a high
pleasure to add to the happiness of her young friend.”

“And Jehovah assisting me,” cried the Hebrew maid, “I will endeavor so
to walk before my kind protectors as to be always worthy of their
friendly regard.”

“If it be pleasing to thy young friend,” said Barzello, addressing
himself to his daughter, “she may be again conducted to inform her
brothers of her new home.”

“My brothers will be overjoyed,” answered Perreeza, “to learn of the
happiness of their sister; and to me, it will afford the greatest
pleasure to convey to them the joyful intelligence.”

“If it will please my daughter,” said Barzello, “she may accompany us.
What sayest thou, Jupheena?”

“Thy daughter most gratefully accepts thy kind offer.”

“Our young friend, peradventure, will be pleased to see her brothers
and cousin without any delay, while Jupheena will accompany her father
on an errand of business at the house of an officer nearby. Thou mayest
inform thy brothers and cousin that we shall call and see them
presently.”

Perreeza embraced the opportunity, and, thanking the officer with one
of her peculiar smiles, hurried to their apartment.

“Back again, precious Perreeza!” cried Azariah, hastening to meet her.
“And did our sister see the king’s officer and his young daughter, of
whom Barzello spoke?”

“I did!” exclaimed his sister, while unusual joy beamed in her
countenance.

“And from thy countenance I am prepared to judge that the interview has
been a happy one,” said her cousin Daniel.

“Never was there a happier interview, cousin. The noble officer’s
kindness is unbounded, and his daughter is one of the loveliest beings
I ever beheld.”

“Perreeza, I trust, will not forget the kindness of Barzello, in the
warmth of her gratitude to her new friend,” said Azariah.

“Never fear that, my dear brother. The remembrance of Barzello’s
kindness is too deeply graven on Perreeza’s heart to be ever forgotten;
and while I remain under the roof of the king’s officer, I shall daily
become more and more deeply indebted to the kind Barzello.”

“It must be that through his kind interposition our beloved sister
found so good a home,” said Mishael, “and if this officer, under whose
roof she has found a shelter, partakes of the spirit of Barzello, her
home must be a happy one. Perreeza, does he appear like unto our noble
friend?”

“The very image of him!” said the sister, laughing heartily. “Now,
brothers and cousin, let Perreeza undeceive you on this point. This
noble officer, whose house is to be my future home, is none other than
our own illustrious Barzello himself. This truth was made known to me
in a way that well-nigh prostrated me. Oh, brothers, is not this
delightful?”

“Praised be Jehovah!” broke from the lips of the youths of Judah.

“For conversation we have but a short time,” said Perreeza; “Barzello
and his lovely Jupheena are below, and will be here in a few moments,
and from hence I accompany them to their home. Hark ye! I hear their
footsteps.”

Barzello, with a smiling countenance, entered the apartment, leading by
the hand his beautiful daughter. Perreeza ran to meet her young
companion, while the four youths were not wanting in appropriate
obeisance to the noble officer; all of which was closely watched by the
smiling young Chaldean maid.

“Have our young friends received any communications from any of the
king’s officers since our last interview?”

“Thy servants have received no communication from any source, since the
departure of their kind friend, about the ninth hour,” answered Daniel.

“To-morrow morning, peradventure, ye shall learn the pleasure of the
king in regard to your future course; and I trust ye will find that our
noble monarch is not wholly unmindful of your former rank and station
in your own land.”

“Permit thy unworthy servants once more,” said Azariah, “to
acknowledge, with grateful hearts, thy kind regards for their beloved
sister, whom thou hast taken as an inmate of thy hospitable mansion.
Perreeza will always delight to do thy pleasure, and to be the obedient
servant of thy amiable young daughter.”

“Your sister, while under my roof, shall not be looked upon in an
inferior light. The chosen companion of my daughter will command due
respect from those in high circles. The maid of Judah need not feel
embarrassed, for her literary attainments will compare favorably with
the most polished maidens of her own age in Babylon. She is not a
_captive_. With the noble feeling of a sister’s heart, and of her own
accord, she accompanied her brothers to a land of strangers. She is as
free as any daughter of Chaldea; and therefore my Jupheena will be
happy to introduce her to her friends in her real character, as a
youthful maid of the royal line of Judah. In thus drawing a line of
distinction between yourselves and your sister, far be it from me to
think that your present relation to our government renders you, in any
_real_ sense, inferior to others—’tis but a name, and will soon be
forgotten; for it is in the power of the king to elevate you, not only
to proper citizenship, but to high rank and prominent stations in the
government.

“Your sister will now accompany us home. Any article she wishes
conveyed thither, shall be sent for without delay. Now, my daughter,
are we ready?”

“All ready, father, unless Perreeza has aught unfinished.”

“I have naught to hinder,” answered Perreeza, with a trembling voice.




CHAPTER X.


In a royal apartment, decorated in superlative grandeur, sat the
powerful monarch of Chaldea. He was alone. His countenance bespoke a
degree of self-complacency and satisfaction. Around him, on a rich
carpet, were several large scrolls of manuscript, while, in his hand,
he held carelessly what appeared to be a well-arranged map of battle
fields and grand points of attack. Chaldea, at this time, was the seat
of science and learning. Thither the great of other nations resorted to
acquire literary distinction. Nebuchadnezzar, from his childhood, had
been initiated into all the arts and sciences; and, as he was a youth
possessing a superior mind, he made great proficiency in all his
numerous studies. Before he ascended the throne, he was pronounced to
be one of the brightest scholars within the whole realm; and now,
although a monarch, surrounded by a thousand cares and perplexities, he
bestowed much thought on his own favorite studies; and one of his most
prominent desires was the perpetuity and advancement of learning among
his subjects. A dull individual, however high in his rank, could never
share the company of the young King of Babylon. All who moved within
the royal enclosures, whether as courtiers, under-officers, or
domestics, had to be those of discerning minds and intelligence. What
exact train of thought occupied the monarch’s mind at this time we may
better judge, perhaps, from the sequel. He rose from his reclining
posture and lightly touched a shining key, which instantly answered in
a remote part of the royal palace. The door opened, and an officer
bowed himself into the apartment.

“And what is the pleasure of my lord the king?”

“Ashpenaz,” said the king, in a familiar voice, “thou knowest well that
there is a painful scarcity of waiters to stand in the presence of the
king; and even those we have are not what I could desire them to be in
point of intelligence and cultivation. This must be remedied without
delay. My father’s taste in this matter was somewhat different from
mine. Far be it from me to cast any reflection on the judgment of my
illustrious father; but the glory and splendor of my empire are on the
forward march, and things at the royal palace must not be permitted to
fall in the rear. I am about to lay a foundation to a measure that will
yet shed glory and luster on my reign. What is more mortifying,
Ashpenaz, while endeavoring to entertain our own dignitaries, and the
visiting nobles of other nations, than to witness the blundering
ignorance of our attendants? In this I cast no blame on my worthy and
noble officer—by no means.

“In my last campaign I gave orders to convey to Babylon a number of
young men of the kingly line, both from Egypt and Judah. From the
conversation I had with Barzello, I am led to believe that there are
among them some very superior minds. Now, it is the wish of thy king
that a number of these youths be taken, and, in company with some of
our own young men, be trained up in the knowledge of our arts and
sciences, and receive, moreover, particular instruction in all the laws
of etiquette, and court customs and maxims, so as to be of efficient
service to the king, and at the same time reflect honor on their
stations. About their instruction there must be nothing shallow or
superficial. There must be thorough work. For this they must have
reasonable time. I therefore appoint the period of their studying to be
three years, at the end of which let them be brought before the king
for examination; and let those who will be able to give satisfaction be
permitted to stand before the king. Moreover, as diet of the best sort
contributes both to the beauty of the body and the improvement of the
mind, let them have their daily portion of the king’s meat and the wine
which he drinketh. Now, Ashpenaz, for further information thou art to
consult Barzello. He will select a certain number of young men, and
deliver them over to thee, and thou art to lose no time in placing them
under suitable instructors.”

“Thy servant,” replied Ashpenaz, “is ever happy to obey the orders of
his illustrious sovereign, which are always issued in that profound
wisdom derived only from the gods.”

This officer stood high in the estimation of the king. He was calm,
dignified, and deeply experienced in all things pertaining to the
duties of his office. For a long time he had served as a confidential
servant of the king’s father, and was highly honored by young and old
at the court. This dignitary was soon on his way towards the house of
his friend Barzello.

“Good-morning to my friend Ashpenaz,” said Barzello, with a welcome
smile.

“And a good-morning to our excellent Barzello,” was the hearty
response.

“And how do things move on at the palace?”

“Oh, pleasantly. Our young monarch is bent on thorough reform in all
deficient quarters.”

“Babylon needs reforming; and may he never pause until the work is
perfected. Long life to our good monarch!”

“Ah! my good Barzello, if all that is to be accomplished, he needs a
long life indeed. But I have but a short time to tarry. The king
desires a number of the royal captives of Judah and Egypt to be placed
under proper instructions to prepare them, after three years’ training,
to be royal waiters at the palace. In thy wisdom thou art to select
from among them the most perfect in body and mind, and deliver them
over to my charge; and, according to the orders of his majesty, I shall
immediately place them under suitable teachers.”

“This will be attended to without delay,” answered Barzello. “Of those
from Egypt, there are quite a number of youths of high origin, and who,
for aught I know, may possess superior powers of mind. I have had no
great facilities to test their capacities. Of those from Judah, there
are only four that I can with confidence recommend to the care and
charge of my worthy friend. These four are noble specimens of
humanity—beautiful in bodily form and complexion, and truly amiable and
excellent in mind. I will assure my worthy friend that, of all the
acquaintances I ever formed among men, and they have been quite
numerous in different lands, none ever impressed me so favorably as
these four youths from the land of Judah. They worship no god but the
God of the Hebrews. In this they show but their faithfulness and their
consistency. My worthy friend will pardon my warmth in speaking of
these children, for there are incidents connected with their history,
which I need not now mention, that have greatly endeared them to thine
unworthy friend; and I have no doubt that thou wilt find them to be all
they are recommended to be.”

“I have all confidence in the judgment and wisdom of my worthy friend,”
answered Ashpenaz, “and it affords me much pleasure to hear such a
favorable report of those who are to be placed under my charge; and I
assure my good Barzello, that their worth and excellence will be duly
noticed and appreciated.”

“If thou art in haste, I will accompany thee without delay to the young
men’s apartments; perhaps thou wouldst be pleased to see them.”

“After such a warm recommendation, it will certainly be quite a
favor—but where is thy sweet Jupheena? This call will hardly recompense
me, if I must leave without a glance at that little beauty.”

“Ah, indeed! Perhaps our good friend Ashpenaz will have no objection to
gaze on _two_ beauties instead of one.”

“All the better, my friend.”

A female servant was sent to the young ladies’ room to inform them that
they were wanted below, and in a few minutes the two girls were seen,
side by side, marching into the presence of the delighted officers.
Perreeza never appeared lovelier. Attired in the rich, flowing
simplicity of her Hebrew costume, with a degree of blushing modesty on
her yet animated countenance, she appeared almost angelic. Jupheena,
perfectly acquainted with her father’s friend, felt not the least
embarrassment.

“Two beauties instead of one, surely,” said Ashpenaz, gazing with
wonder on the fair form of Perreeza.

Barzello took the maid of Judah by the hand, and, approaching his
friend, said:

“This is young Perreeza, of the royal line of Judah, who, of her own
accord, accompanied her brothers to the land of the Chaldeans, and has
seen fit to favor us with her company.”

“No very small favor, Barzello,” cried Ashpenaz, bowing low. “I hope
the partiality of the gods will not make us quarrel.”

“Let not my noble friend be unjust to the gods. If the maid of Judah is
an inmate of the house of Barzello, I trust that three brothers and a
cousin, given to the sole charge of Ashpenaz, will convince him that
the gods are not partial.”

“Ah! that will do,” said Ashpenaz, still gazing on the maid of Judah.

“Perreeza,” said Barzello, “from pure love for her three brothers, of
whom I spake, saw fit to leave her native land and venture her future
destiny among strangers.”

“I trust,” answered Ashpenaz, “they are indeed worthy of such a
sister’s pure affection.”

“That is a point soon settled in the minds of all who have the pleasure
of their acquaintance.”

“Permit me to congratulate my young friend, Jupheena, on the happy
addition to the number of her youthful friends.”

“Our beloved Ashpenaz may well congratulate,” replied the young beauty;
“and let him be assured that his congratulations are warmly
appreciated.”

“And how does our young friend from Judah enjoy the society of her
Chaldean friends?”

“Thy young handmaiden enjoys their society much,” modestly replied
Perreeza. “If she stands in any danger, it must be from an excess of
kindness.”

“I trust the maid of Judah will sustain no material injury from any
amount of kindness received in my house,” said Barzello, laughing. “If
she does, she must charge it to herself; for, under the circumstances,
to be less kind is entirely out of our power.”

“Barzello,” cried the visitor, “thy house is a famous spot for officers
to forget their great hurry. Come, my good friend, business is
pressing; let us be away. A good-day to the ‘two beauties instead of
one.’”

And the two officers hurried from the apartment, entered a chariot, and
were on their way to the appointed place.

“A charming damsel that, Barzello.”

“All of that, my worthy friend.”

“What are her literary attainments?”

“All that Judah’s capital could bestow.”

“How will she compare with the refined maids of Babylon?”

“She will compare favorably with the most polished in Chaldea.”

“Verily. And the brothers?”

“All thy richest fancies could paint them.”

“And yet captives of war!”

“Yea—captives of war.”

“The captivity of genius must be of short duration.”

The chariot halted. The two officers alighted, and without delay they
hastened to the apartments of the Hebrew youths.

“A happy day to the youths of Judah,” said Barzello, in a lively tone.
“This is my noble friend, Ashpenaz, a high officer of the king at the
palace. From this hour ye are to be under his special directions.”

“Thy servants,” replied Daniel, bowing gracefully, “will be greatly
delighted to be placed in any spot where they can be of service to
their worthy superiors.”

“To-morrow, then,” said Ashpenaz, “ye shall enter upon new duties, and
commence your important studies. Your teachers are in readiness—men of
superior powers of mind, and well versed in the art of teaching. The
king himself will be greatly interested in your progress, and therefore
has prepared apartments for the students within the royal enclosures,
where he will at times appear personally to learn of their advancement.
To-morrow, at the third hour, ye will hold yourselves in readiness to
be conveyed thither.”

“Thy servants will be in readiness at the appointed hour,” said Daniel.

“Now for the Egyptians, Barzello,” said Ashpenaz, smiling, as they left
the apartment.




CHAPTER XI.


At the appointed hour, our youths, in company with many others, were
conveyed to their new habitation, which was a beautiful building,
erected in the vicinity of the king’s palace. Here all the students
were received with great civility, and commended to their different
apartments. The four Hebrews were not separated, but were permitted to
remain as heretofore. They found that everything conducive to their
comfort and enjoyment had been provided here as well as at the
apartments they had left. Hitherto they had no knowledge of the manner
in which they were to receive instruction, or the precise nature of
their studies. They knew the Chaldeans to be noted for their learning,
and they were not without their fears lest the Babylonian youths who
were to be their fellow-students should outstrip them, and leave them
far in the distance; however, they were fully determined to acquit
themselves to the utmost of their ability, and leave the result with
the God of their fathers. Nothing could have given them greater
satisfaction than the course marked out for them by the king. Indeed,
if it had been left to their own choice to select, it could not have
been otherwise. From the days of their early childhood they had been
close students, and they had become well versed in Hebrew lore, and had
a fair knowledge of Chaldee, which was often studied in Judah, as an
ornamental branch of education. This proved a very favorable item in
their experience, but there were numerous studies before them, to
which, as Jews, they were utter strangers, and to acquire even a
respectable knowledge of which demanded much time and perseverance. The
king was aware of this when he appointed the time of their probation to
be three years. The Egyptian youths were of royal descent, and had some
knowledge of the Chaldee, and were well acquainted with several
branches of learning pertaining to their native land. The Chaldean
portion of the students were mostly of the city of Babylon, and already
somewhat advanced in what was considered the higher branches.

When conducted to their respective rooms, they were given to understand
that, at a certain signal, they were all to assemble below, where
Ashpenaz would meet them, address them, and enlighten them in regard to
the duties of their future course.

The four Hebrews were quietly seated in one of their apartments, each
one engaged in satisfying his curiosity by gazing at the richly carved
casings and highly ornamented articles of furniture.

“Well, cousins,” said Daniel, with a smile, “I trust they will not
un-Hebrew us with their Chaldean mysteries.”

“If I forget thee, O Jerusalem!” said Azariah, with feeling, “let my
right hand forget her cunning.”

“Let my tongue be palsied if I forget, for a day, the loved ones at
home,” said Hananiah.

“When the sweet memories of our beloved Prophet shall be obliterated
from this bosom,” said Mishael, laying his hand upon his breast, “then
let me be utterly forsaken.”

“The law of Jehovah shall be the rule of our actions,” said Daniel; “to
him we yield our hearty and willing obedience.”

The grand signal was heard below, and, without delay, the young men,
from different parts of the building, were seen hurrying to the
commodious apartment set apart for the occasion. Here they found a
number of the king’s officers assembled, among whom the youths of Judah
recognized the pleasant countenance of Barzello. They were soon seated
in perfect order, and Babylon never witnessed, in personal appearance,
a more interesting group of youths. They were received by the officers
with a smile of satisfaction, and with a look of admiration. Presently,
the dignified form of Ashpenaz was seen moving slowly towards the
rostrum; he ascended, gracefully bowed to the officers on either side,
and proceeded:

“It is of the utmost importance that those who are destined to minister
in the king’s presence should be well initiated into the ways and
manners, maxims and customs of our nation, and be well versed in all
the learning of the Chaldeans. Nothing short of this can meet the
demands and reasonable expectations of our great monarch; and for this
he has carefully provided every facility. Your teachers are of the most
superior in the realm, and an ample period is appointed for the
perfection of your accomplishments.

“In addition to literary attainments, the king looks for moral
integrity, uprightness of character, and true amiability of deportment.
Without these, the most learned can never add to the real dignity of
the court, nor to the stability of the Empire; but, on the contrary,
such a one destitute of moral principle must prove a dangerous element
in any and all communities. Let this be deeply impressed on your
youthful minds, and seek earnestly to cultivate those nobler powers of
the mind, as well as the intellectual faculties.

“Those of you from Egypt, and especially those of you from Judah, have
no faith in our gods, or sympathy with our mode of worship. From your
infancy ye have been taught to do homage to the God of your fathers and
to his worship ye have pledged your future lives. The King of Babylon,
in his great wisdom, has seen fit to put no obstacles between you and
the worship of your deities. Ye are at liberty to serve your gods and
adore after the dictates of your own consciences; and, moreover, ye are
not required to perform any act that may be contrary to your religious
convictions. I trust that this great favor will be rightly appreciated,
and never abused. While ye are thus kindly permitted to worship your
own gods, show no disrespect to those who may differ from you, and on
whose good-will and favor your future success must greatly depend.

“As a proof of his high regard for your physical and intellectual
prosperity, the king has appointed your meat and drink to be conveyed
from his own table. This, indeed, is an honor conferred on but few in
Babylon. Thus, ye readily perceive that nothing is wanting that is in
the least calculated to enhance your comfort or speed your literary
progress. Ye have but to apply yourselves diligently to your studies
and be careful to maintain a correct deportment, and ye shall reap the
reward of fidelity, in being permitted to stand in the presence of the
king.

“It is the desire of your sovereign that those from Egypt and Judah be
known hereafter by names more suitable to the country in which ye now
abide. These names ye shall hereafter learn from your teachers. Ye may
now return in perfect order to your respective apartments. To-morrow at
the second hour, at a given signal, ye will appear at this place again,
and formally enter upon your studies.”

The four youths, after having reached their rooms, for a while sat in
silence; and from the countenance of Daniel it might have been easily
gathered that all was not well. The brothers were not slow to notice
this, and it caused them some uneasiness. Usually their cousin took the
lead in all conversation, but at this time Daniel was mute.

“Well, cousin,” said Azariah, “how wast thou pleased with the address
of our new master?”

“Highly pleased, upon the whole. He surely is a man of kind feelings
and refined taste.”

“But my dear cousin seems somewhat disconsolate and much less cheerful
than when we left this apartment one hour ago. We are at a loss to find
a cause for this sudden change.”

“I perceive that a certain part of the address, which struck me as
rather unfortunate for us, was not looked upon in that light by my
worthy cousins.”

“I suppose thou hast reference to that part relating to the change of
names. For my part, I am not overtenacious on that point, for to me
thou wilt always remain ‘Cousin Daniel,’ and to thee, I trust, I shall
always be ‘Cousin Azariah;’ and if the Chaldeans prefer to call me
Bel-sha-bo-raze-ba-phoo, and my Cousin Daniel Sha-go-mer-zalta-ba-phee,
or some other long name, let them by all means be gratified.”

“My worthy cousin is mistaken in regard to this point,” said Daniel,
smiling, while the three brothers, for the first time in Babylon,
joined in a hearty laugh. “As far as names are concerned, they are
welcome to add on the syllables to their hearts’ content; but,
seriously, cousins, there is a point that, if not rightly managed, will
entangle us in serious difficulties. I have reference to that part
which made mention of our meat and drink. How can we, as Hebrews,
defile ourselves with meats, portions of which are offered to idols,
and with wine sacrificed to the gods of Chaldea? This would be in
direct violation of the law of our God. To this we can never consent;
and, moreover, we are not accustomed to these dainties, and such high
living can never be conducive to our health and happiness. Ye know,
cousins, that from beholding the drunken degradation of those in high
authority in Judah, our parents, many years ago, arrived at the wise
conclusion that their children, in order to escape the pit-falls into
which others had fallen, should never be counted among wine-drinkers.
To this desire of our fond parents we strictly adhered while in
Jerusalem, although often ridiculed by drunken wit, and frowned upon by
countenances flushed with strong drink. Shall we, then, in a strange
land, forget the covenant of our God, and violate our sacred
obligations to our beloved parents? No, cousins, this must _never_ be.
I trust we may yet be excused, for we were informed that we would not
be required to perform any act against our religious convictions. Our
food must remain simple, as in Judah; and by this we shall not only
adhere to the requirements of Jehovah, but we shall also be better able
to master those arduous studies which stand before us in such
formidable array.”

“Right, noble cousin,” cried Azariah, hastening up to Daniel and
grasping him affectionately by the hand; “_always_ right! On thee be
the sole management of the business; and we are confident that, as
usual, under the blessing of our God, we shall come forth
triumphantly.”

“First of all, then, I must have an interview with our kind master.”

Footsteps were now heard approaching their apartment. Daniel opened the
door, and, finding there a servant of Ashpenaz, addressed him:

“Will the servant of our noble master have the kindness to convey to
him a message, in few words, from one of the youths of Judah?”

“The servant of my lord Ashpenaz will always be happy to do all in his
power for the comfort and happiness of those from Judah; and any
message to my lord I am ready to convey.”

“The message is this: Daniel, of the captivity of Judah, asks the favor
of a short interview with his kind lord, Ashpenaz.”

The servant respectfully bowed and departed, and, in a few moments,
Daniel stood in the presence of his kind friend.

“And what is the pleasure of my young friend from Judah?”

Here Daniel explained, in an eloquent manner, the objections he and his
three companions had to partaking of the portion of the king’s meat and
the wine which he drank.

“This is rather a delicate point, my young friend,” answered Ashpenaz,
with a degree of perplexity visible on his countenance. “If your meat
and drink were of my own appointment, your request could be granted
with the greatest ease and pleasure; but since the order comes from the
king, I see not how it can be granted without disobedience to superior
orders. The king desires to give you every opportunity to improve, if
possible, your appearance. I fear my lord the king. For why should he
see your faces worse looking than the children which are of your
degree? Then shall ye make me endanger my head to the king.”

“Prove thy servants, I beseech thee, ten days,” said Daniel, turning
towards Melzar, “and let them give us _vegetable_ food, and _pure cold
water_ to drink. Then let our countenances be looked upon before thee,
and the countenances of the children that eat of the portion of the
king’s meat; and as thou seest, deal with thy servants.”

“Well,” replied Ashpenaz, smiling, “if the king’s object is
accomplished, I trust he is not tenacious about the article of food;
so, Melzar, let our young friends be gratified in this respect. Let
them have a trial of ten days, and, if at the end of that time they
have retained their beauty and freshness, let them be fed with
vegetables.”

“Permit me, in the absence of my three cousins, to offer their
gratitude, with my own, to our noble lord for his kind favor,” said
Daniel, gracefully bowing himself out of the apartment.

The morning of the tenth day dawned upon our Hebrew captives. Their
days of trial were soon over, and they felt no fear of the scrutinizing
gaze of Melzar. Health and beauty played on their fair cheeks, and they
were well prepared for the inspection; and Melzar declared, with due
humility, in their presence, that such countenances were not to be
found in all Babylon. Now, Melzar was an excellent judge of beauty.

Thus Melzar took away the portion of their meat, and the wine that they
should drink, and gave them pulse.




CHAPTER XII.


As both Barzello and his daughter were highly esteemed in Babylon,
Perreeza made many delightful acquaintances and was much sought after.
She was happy in her new life, and by her many accomplishments and
sweet disposition greatly endeared herself to her new found friends.

Among the acquaintances of Barzello, with whom the king’s trusted
officer had been on terms of intimacy for a long term of years, was one
Joram, a rich merchant of the city. Joram was understood to have great
influence at court, owing to the fact that he had traveled all over the
then known world and possessed a valuable knowledge of many nations.
His life was a mysterious one, and, while he was credited with being
the richest man in Babylon, he was little seen outside of his place of
business; but many politicians consulted him, and the king had been
known to send his chariot for Joram day after day when great affairs of
state were on hand. It had also leaked out that people of distinction
from other countries visited the great merchant, and it was correctly
surmised in political circles that Joram had helped to shape many a
commercial treaty in the interests of the Babylonian monarch.

With all his mystery and reticence and secret power, Joram was a loyal
subject of Nebuchadnezzar and ably seconded the king’s efforts for
advancing the greatness of Babylon. His family consisted of his wife
and an adopted son. The latter was a young man of fine attainments, and
was being educated in statecraft as well as mercantile affairs.

Early one evening Barzello had succeeded in persuading Joram to
accompany him home. He had spoken of the young captives and the
beautiful Perreeza, and wished the merchant and his family to know
them. The two elderly men were accompanied to the officer’s house by
Mathias, the adopted son of Joram. They were warmly greeted by
Jupheena, who smilingly conducted Mathias to another part of the house
for the purpose of introducing him to Perreeza.

“Maid of Judah,” said Jupheena, “I have the pleasure of presenting thee
to the honorable Mathias, son of our most excellent Joram.”

At these words the maid arose with calmness and beautiful dignity,
appearing like an angel in human form, and gently responded to the very
low bow of the young Babylonian. The conversation soon became animated.
Mathias talked with all the warmth of his noble nature, producing a
very favorable impression on the mind of the maid of Judah.

“To me it is quite refreshing,” said Perreeza, “to hear a name that is
familiar in Israel. I have many relatives in Judah who are called by
thy name.”

“Our national feelings are strong,” said the young man, “and, if I have
learned correctly, this feeling is said to be stronger in the Hebrew
heart than in all others.”

“I am not so well prepared to vouch for the correctness of the
sentiment,” said Perreeza, “but if my own feelings be an index to the
sentiments of others of my nation, the saying is abundantly true.”

“It is certainly an admirable trait of character,” said the young man,
“and the individual in a foreign land who can think of the home of his
fathers without strong emotion is not, in my opinion, an individual to
be envied.”

“Permit the maid of Judah to thank her friend for that noble
sentiment.”

Here the conversation was arrested by a signal from Barzello, and the
young people went forward to join the other members of the family.

“This is Perreeza, of the royal line of Judah,” said Barzello, taking
the maid gently by the hand, “whom I have the great pleasure of
presenting to my illustrious friend Joram.”

The blushing maid modestly bowed while Joram took her by the hand and
said, with unusual feeling, “May the blessing of the God of thy
fathers, dear maid, accompany thy footsteps in a foreign land.”

This blessing from the lips of a Babylonian was deeply appreciated by
the young woman, who was already touched by the kindness with which she
was met on every hand.

“The Lily of the Valley,” said Joram, referring to Jupheena, “has found
a sweet companion, and the maid of Judah, I trust, will not be
displeased if, by the request of my good friend Barzello, I give her
the name of an appropriate rose.”

“On the contrary,” said Perreeza, “thy young handmaiden is very
grateful to the noble friend of Barzello for every token of his notice
and kind regard.”

“Then, maid of Judah,” said Joram, “thy floral name, from this hour, is
the Rose of Sharon.”

“The Rose of Sharon!” cried Jupheena. “Oh, Perreeza, is not that
delightful? _Rose of Sharon!_”

“Beautiful, indeed!” said Perreeza, “and better than all, it is the
sweet rose of my own native land.”

“True, young maid, true,” said Joram, “’tis the favorite rose of
Judah.”

“The noble friend of Barzello will accept the thanks of his unworthy
young acquaintance for his very happy compliment,” said Perreeza.

“Well,” responded Joram, “one Hebrew lay, accompanied by the harp of
Judah, will recompense us a thousand times.”

“That shall be attended to with pleasure,” said Perreeza, and the two
young women left to bring the harp.

“Now, my good friend, what thinkest thou of the maid of Judah?” asked
Barzello.

“The Rose of Sharon is all loveliness,” said Joram. “Ah, my friend,
sawest thou not the majestic glance of that dark eye, the inimitable
hue of those fair cheeks, the full perfection of those lips, the glossy
richness of the profuse curls, and the marble whiteness of that model
neck? Add to this, my friend, the amiability of her character and her
ripe accomplishments, and in her we find a charming and suitable
companion for the daughter of Barzello.”

“Joram, are the Hebrew women noted for their beauty?”

“Perhaps no nation can boast of greater fairness of complexion among
their females than the Jews.”

“Now the youthful maid of the royal line of Judah will make us happy
with one of her Hebrew melodies, she having brought her favorite harp,”
said Barzello.

“My kind friend may well say favorite harp,” replied Perreeza, with
deep emotion; “for to me, surely, it is a very precious treasure. For
many years it has been in our family. To me it was left by the dearest
of mothers, and to her it was given by a brother beloved, who found an
early grave.”

This was received by the company in silence, but it was noticed that
Joram was deeply affected.

Perreeza took the instrument in her arms, swept her delicate hand over
the well-tuned strings, and, after a moment’s pause sang in seraphic
tones a plaintive melody peculiar to her life in Jerusalem.

[Illustration: Perreeza took the instrument in her arms and sang a
plaintive melody]

Profound silence fell on the assembly after her song was finished. The
performance and its effect were such that applause or compliments would
have sounded ill-timed. All gazed with solemn delight on Perreeza as
she laid aside her harp and took her seat beside Jupheena.

Suddenly, the disappearance of Joram was noticed, and Barzello sprang
up in an agitated manner. The merchant was not in the room, and none
had seen him depart.

“In the name of the gods, what has befallen my good friend!” cried the
officer, as he went to the adjoining apartment.

“Be calm,” faintly replied the voice of Joram, as the host came to
where he was reclining.

“Barzello,” said the guest, “thou hast given me reason these many years
to believe in thy friendship.”

“Thou art not in the least mistaken,” responded Barzello.

“Then I shall proceed without delay to explain my singular conduct,
and, in making these developments, I am confident I shall share the
sympathies of my kind friend. To-night my heart has been almost rent
with contending emotions. I have been well-nigh overwhelmed with both
sadness and joy. During my long residence in this part of the world a
degree of mystery has hung over myself and family, and even to-day my
country and origin are not known. For many years past I have had strong
doubts in regard to the wisdom of this course of secrecy. The time has
at last arrived when my life history must be divulged.

“In the first place, then, let me inform you that I am a Hebrew. I was
born of noble and wealthy parents who lived within the metropolis of
Judah. I was the pride of my father, and by my mother I was almost
idolized. Being of a lively temperament I was fond of company and
overfond of amusements. I was sent to one of the city’s leading halls
of learning and found but little trouble in mastering my studies. I was
early thrown into the companionship of those who had not the fear of
God before their eyes. I drank in their spirit, and, consequently, the
yoke of parental authority became painful to my youthful neck. My
affection for parents and near relatives was strong, and it was not
without a hard struggle that I yielded to the enticements of older
transgressors. Gradually I became the willing companion of youths whose
chief object was amusement.

“One night we tarried together until a late hour and several of my
companions indulged freely in wine. Before we left the scene of our
carousal they had become quite boisterous. I was more sedate than
usual, though entering into the spirit of the occasion. At that late
hour the watchmen, or guards, of the city found it necessary to
interfere and check our hilarity. A fight ensued in which I took part.
Being recognized by one of the officers, I fled the city rather than
face the disgrace of trial and punishment. Taking leave of my sisters,
I was soon far from the land of my birth. My last act was to present to
my favorite sister the harp which thou hast seen and heard to-night.

“My dear friend, judge of my surprise and joy when I recognized in the
maid of Judah one of my own relatives. The beautiful and noble orphan
who is your daughter’s companion in this house is none other than my
own niece.

“I feel that my long neglect of my surviving relatives makes me
unworthy even to serve them, but I am determined now that this sweet
damsel shall share in my wealth and enjoy all the advantages which my
efforts can obtain for her, together with her worthy brothers. In this
way I can make partial atonement for the mistakes of the past.”

This remarkable revelation was soon made known to the excited company.
With a cry of joy the fair maid of Judah fell into the arms of her
uncle. Tears fell from every eye. The “Lily of the Valley” wept, and so
did the brave soldier, her father, and so did young Mathias. The scene
was one that pen cannot adequately describe, but happiness was supreme
in the household.




CHAPTER XIII.


At the school, agreeable to the expectations of Barzello, the four
Hebrews made astonishing progress in their multiform studies. Those
profound sciences which had cost their teachers years of ceaseless toil
were, by these four young men, mastered with apparent ease. They soon
became objects of wonder to their instructors, and were pronounced
favorites of the gods. Ashpenaz often would have an interview with
them, and soon they became the objects, not only of his admiration, but
also of his friendship. This became visible to their fellow-students,
and jealousy, accompanied by malice, found a ready entrance to more
than one heart. Alas, for poor fallen humanity!

Among the students from the city of Babylon there were two young men,
brothers, whose father, by a sudden freak of fortune, had arrived at
the possession of much wealth. For some years these young men’s
advantages had been quite favorable, and withal they had not been
negligent in their studies. They were exceedingly vain of their
acquirements, and their pride and arrogance kept pace with their
vanity. The success of others, to them, was invariably a source of
mortification.

They had already heard complimentary reports of the youths of Judah
from no mean sources; and they became their foes, and were determined
to see them humbled. As students, they met but seldom, and the real
acquirements of the Israelitish youths were not known to these envious
Chaldeans. With these two victims of vanity and envy was cast the
unhappy lot of another youth, their cousin. He was of “humbler birth,”
as the term is used, but almost infinitely their superior in everything
that beautifies and adorns humanity. He was frank, generous, noble, and
endowed with no small share of natural wit. For his conceited cousins
he was anything but a pleasant companion; and daily was their arrogance
rebuked by his far-searching repartees. Thus have we introduced to the
reader three young Chaldeans, Scribbo and Shagoth, with their Cousin
Apgomer.

“I cannot, for my part,” said Scribbo, “see the propriety of elevating
these contemptible captives to share equal privileges with the native
sons of Chaldea. Surely the king, in this, has betrayed a lamentable
lack of discernment.”

“Truly!” replied Shagoth, with an air of consequence. “And if he does
not ere long see his folly, and retrace his steps, he will lose _my_
confidence, and that of all the members of our house.”

“May the gods pity the king!” cried Apgomer, with a feigned solemn
visage. “Peradventure, that in the great pressure of business he forgot
that the confidence of my illustrious cousins was so essential to his
well-being, as well as the safety and perpetuity of the empire.”

“My remarks were called forth by the sensible statement of my brother,”
said Shagoth, peevishly; “and it would have been perfectly excusable in
thee to have remained silent, until I should have thought fit to make
some remarks suitable to the capacity of thy mind.”

“My worthy cousin will, I trust, in the plenitude of his overflowing
generosity, pardon the officiousness of his unworthy servant of limited
capacities, and believe him when he assures thee that those remarks
were offered as an humble apology for the great sovereign of the
Chaldean empire; and I still hope that, in the richness of thy
clemency, thou wilt forgive him.”

“I trust,” replied Scribbo, “we are able to appreciate thy remarks, and
undoubtedly they will receive the respect they deserve. If thou couldst
have thy quarters removed to the society of these pretending
foreigners, methinks it would better suit thy groveling taste.”

“Such a sudden bereavement might be more than my tender-hearted cousins
could well endure. May the gods forbid that I should be the means of
overwhelming you with unnecessary sorrow! And, besides, I fear I am not
such a favorite of the gods as to receive such a marked favor.”

“A prodigious favor to be the companions of illiterate captives!” cried
Scribbo, with a disdainful curl of his lip. “The Chaldean who calls
that a favor, is anything but an ornament to his country.”

“We may have different tastes in regard to ornament,” replied the
good-natured cousin, looking with an arch smile on his cousin’s heavy
and useless jewelry. “As for me, I am a plain young man. I value the
useful far above the ornamental. I consider healthy ablutions and clean
linens far more desirable than the decoration of our persons with
ornamental trash. And why may it not be so in the government? So much
in regard to _ornaments_. ‘Ignorant and illiterate captives.’ Ah,
cousin! Believest thou this? Dost thou not rather hope that this is so?
Hope on! The day of trial hastens apace! Hope vigorously and
diligently; for such hope is of short duration. Ye expect, by your
superior learning, to humble the youths of Judah in the presence of the
king and his nobles. Ye are sanguine in your expectations. Already ye
see their heads bowing with shame and embarrassment, while your own
brows are decorated with well-earned laurels. Do ye not already enjoy
the bliss of the prophetic vision, until the bursting in of the
reality? Ah, ye do! Now think it not over-officious in your cousin of
low capacity to assure you that your hopes are but the baseless fabrics
of vain minds. The day of examination will reveal to your astonished
sensibilities that ye have dreamed the dream of fools. Those noble
young men, who are the objects of your hatred, will soar above you
triumphantly, and their enemies will be covered over with shame. Let me
give you fair warning! Ye are ignorant of the strength of those youths,
over whom your vain imaginations appear to triumph with such ease.”

“Our forbearance, brother, I fear, only encourages the insolence of
this, our ungrateful relative,” said Shagoth, in anger. “How soon these
upstarts forget their poverty when they are permitted to mingle in good
society.”

“And how soon they forget the kind hands that lifted them up from their
low estate!” answered Scribbo, casting a reproachful glance in the
direction of Apgomer.

“Now, cousins,” said Apgomer, smilingly, “since these charges are
thrown out against me, without going through the usual form of asking
permission, I shall at once take the liberty of repelling them.

“In the first place, I am charged with being an ‘upstart,’ and of too
soon forgetting my poverty. This I deny. I have, by no means, forgotten
my own poverty, or the low condition of my ancestors. Let us look at
this for a moment. Painful as it may be, I believe ye do occasionally
admit that I am your cousin. Well, then, be it remembered that I am
your cousin. Our fathers were brothers, and our grandfather was one and
the same person. It is well known to you that our respected grand-sire
was an individual who had to plod his way along through the very steeps
of poverty, and procure a little bread for his family by humble
employments. In poverty he lived, and in deep poverty he would have
died, had it not been for the grateful regard of _one_ of his sons; of
the other, I have nothing to say at present. Now to some, who have
suddenly risen from poverty to a degree of affluence, it proves a
source of deep mortification to remember that they sprang from a low
origin. But is this the case with your cousin Apgomer? Have I forgotten
the source whence I sprang? Does it create a blush on this cheek to
remember that my grandfather was poor, and that my father had to win
his bread through the sweat of his brow? Whoever has forgotten the
poverty of his father and grandfather, be it known that Apgomer is not
that youth.

“So much in regard to the first charge. Now for the second. I am
accused of forgetting those ‘kind friends, who lifted me up from my low
estate.’ Those friendly hands who helped me to the situation I now hold
are, by no means, forgotten; they are deeply graven upon a grateful
memory. While this pulse shall beat, and while this heart shall throb,
the names of Barzello and Joram will, by me, be fondly cherished. Then
there was much opposition from certain quarters. There were those who
could not discern the propriety of my being elevated to an equality
with those of greater wealth; and I am not sure, since the king has not
seen fit to retrace his steps, but that he has lost the confidence of
those concerned. Cousins! I am ever grateful to those kind friends who
so nobly took me by the hand. I know well who they are, and I know well
who they are not.”

“Surely our young instructor is becoming eloquent,” said Scribbo,
rather crestfallen.

“Yea, verily,” replied his brother; “and who can withstand such a
mighty torrent of oratory? Let us away to the groves!” And Apgomer was
left, for the time being, the sole occupant of the apartment.




CHAPTER XIV.


Days, weeks, months, and years, have passed away, and the great day of
examination has arrived—that day for which that youthful group has
looked so long, with mingled feelings of pleasure and embarrassment.
This day broke on the capital of Chaldea with unusual brightness. The
sun shone brightly in a cloudless firmament, and Nature had put on her
sweetest smile. In the vicinity of the king’s palace it was evident
that something of more than ordinary interest was that day to be
attended to. Officers hurried to and fro. Dignitaries bowed to one
another with additional smiles. Groups of citizens of the better class
appeared here and there, in earnest conversation. Magnificent chariots,
drawn by fiery steeds, halted at the king’s gate about the third hour.
A splendid national flag proudly waved on the high pinnacle of the
students’ building, while each window presented ingenious mottoes
appropriate for the occasion.

The place appointed by the king for the public examination of the
students, was a magnificent audience room that stood within the royal
grounds, and in close proximity to the palace. This apartment was
finished in the highest perfection of art, and, in addition, on this
occasion, was decorated with ornaments suitable for the day.

At an early stage, the room was well filled with the first of Babylon’s
aristocracy, together with some few who had no just claim to title.
Appropriate seats were reserved for the king and his attendants, who
were soon expected to make their appearance. Among the number assembled
there were many of the students’ parents. With but two or three
exceptions, joy and good feeling appeared to be the expression of every
countenance, while, with hearts free from envy and malice, they gazed
on the comely forms of those before them. Among these smiling
countenances might have been seen three individuals—a father, mother
and daughter—who smiled, indeed, but whose smiles would never have
convinced the beholder that they were an index to noble and generous
hearts.

“’Twas a strange notion of the king, surely,” said the daughter, “to
bring these Hebrew captives in competition with the refined minds of
Chaldea; I cannot account for it, unless it is purposely done to show
them their great inferiority, and thus, by to-day’s exercises, teach
them a lesson of humility that they will not soon forget; for no one
can be so unwise as to think that such illiterate foreigners can appear
to any advantage in a place like this.”

“Thy remarks, daughter, are perfectly correct,” answered the mother. “I
am at a loss, myself, to understand the king in this. But thy brother,
Shagoth, has learned, of late, that these Jews are far from being dull
scholars; and he fears that, by some strange contrivance, they have
worked themselves into the graces of Ashpenaz. I have my fears that
these reports are too true. Yet I have strong hopes that in this trial
of learning, they will fall entirely below thy accomplished brothers. I
am quite sure it cannot be otherwise.”

The sound of music from without, gave them to understand that the king
was approaching. Presently the illustrious monarch of Chaldea made his
grand entry, accompanied by a brilliant escort, and amid the
flourishing of trumpets and the loud acclamations of his subjects he
took his seat, and beckoned to the enthusiastic throng to be seated.
Perfect stillness being secured, Ashpenaz arose with dignity, and,
bowing low to the sovereign, proceeded:

“According to appointment, O king, behold these young men are conducted
hither for public examination in the presence of their illustrious
sovereign, and in the presence of these, his nobles.”

To which the monarch replied in an interesting address:

“Citizens of Babylon! the king taketh much pleasure in greeting you on
this occasion. To witness your smiles is truly refreshing to my mind
amid all the pressing duties of my extensive empire. I trust I shall
always merit your smiles and good wishes. Long may the Chaldean empire
continue to shine a superior orb in the firmament of nations.

“The stability of government must greatly depend on the wisdom and
intelligence of the people; and ever since I have had the honor of
presiding over the destinies of this vast empire, I have not for a day
lost sight of this important truth. Whether since the beginning of my
reign the cause of education has been advanced, I leave to the judgment
of my worthy subjects. Three years ago, I thought it advisable to
establish a school at the expense of the government, where a number of
young men might be placed under the care of superior instructors, and
so be prepared to serve with distinguished ability in the different
spheres in which they might be called to move. Those youths are now
before you; and if their mental culture will well compare with their
fair countenances and manly forms, my most sanguine expectations are
more than realized. I am happy to know, from vigilant observation, that
the teachers, without any exceptions, have nobly proved themselves
worthy of the unreserved confidence of their king; and let them now be
assured that such unwearied faithfulness will not go unrewarded. The
king has been well pleased also, from time to time, to hear of the
great proficiency and rapid advancement of many of the scholars.”

It cannot be expected, on an occasion like the present, that all
scholars will exhibit precisely the same amount of ability and
cultivation. While all may give satisfaction, some, I trust, will even
excel. Those who shall at this time give the clearest proof of ripe
scholarship, shall, according to agreement, be permitted to remain at
the palace, and minister in the presence of the king, with the prospect
of promotion as the fruit of faithfulness. I trust there are no
unpleasant feelings to arise from the final result of this day’s
exercises. True, there may be some disappointment among both parents
and scholars; but let not the king be grieved by witnessing any signs
of displeasure on the countenance of young or old; for, hitherto, no
partiality hath been permitted in any of our councils. Those whom the
king promotes must therefore be promoted on the strength of their own
worth and merit.

“My worthy and noble friend, Ashpenaz, will now commence the
examination; after which, if I think it expedient, I may ask a few
questions myself.”

Ashpenaz then, according to direction, commenced the examination, the
king, in the meanwhile, earnestly facing the students, and paying
particular attention to every answer, and the source whence it
proceeded. After an examination of one hour, the king gave to Ashpenaz
a signal, by which he understood that he might dispense with any
further questioning.

The king then, as he had previously intimated, became the examiner.
Being somewhat astonished, as well as delighted, by the perfect ease
with which the youths of Judah answered every question, he purposed,
within himself, to make a further trial of their skill, by propounding
questions to the school which were far more difficult to answer than
those asked by Ashpenaz. The reader is already aware that the king was
one of the ripest scholars within the empire, and, therefore, was fully
prepared for the undertaking. The first problem was directed to
Shagoth. Shagoth colored, and, in endeavoring to answer, stammered out
something which the king could not understand. The same question was
directed to Apgomer. Apgomer, with steady voice and correct emphasis,
answered; and it was pronounced to be correct. The next question was
directed to Scribbo. He, greatly alarmed at the result of the other
question, became confused, and gave no answer. The same question was
directed to Daniel, and was promptly answered, with marked ease and
great clearness. The next was directed to a young student who sat in
the vicinity of Shagoth, but it was not answered to the satisfaction of
the king. The same was directed to Hananiah, and the answer was such as
to astonish the examiner. Another perplexing question was directed to a
young student, a resident of the city; but it was of too profound a
nature for the young man to answer. The king having asked the same
question of several without receiving an answer, at last directed it to
Azariah. The young Hebrew hesitated—it was but for a moment—then, in a
clear, silvery tone, he gave the answer, without the least degree of
confusion. It was beyond the expectation of the king. He gazed on the
youth for a moment in silence, and then pronounced the answer to be a
correct one. Another question of the same nature, requiring, perhaps,
some additional knowledge, was asked, the king remarking, at the same
time, that his good opinion of their abilities did not depend upon
their answering those questions, for they were of such a nature as
would puzzle more experienced heads; but such was the readiness with
which some of the scholars had answered all the questions hitherto
asked, that he was anxious to know if it were in his power to ask a
question which they could not answer; and in order to give all an equal
opportunity, he would direct his questions to each one. So the king
commenced on the left, and deliberately pointed to each scholar; but no
answer was heard until he came to young Mishael. With promptness, and
in a few words, he gave a perfect answer to a question which the King
of Babylon considered beyond the capacity of any student present.

By this time it was evident to the king that the number of those who
truly excelled was four; and that these four sat together. To these,
therefore, he would direct his remaining questions. And now, in
earnest, commenced a regular contest for the mastery. On one hand,
behold the great sovereign of the Chaldean empire, noted for the depth
of his learning. On the other, behold four young men, from the land of
Israel, whom, three years before, he had brought as captives of war
from the metropolis of Judah. All the king’s powers of mind were called
forth. From the occasion he gathered a degree of enthusiasm, and he was
glad of an opportunity to show himself to such pleasing advantage
before so many of his nobles and influential subjects. With the four
Hebrews he was highly delighted. Their great knowledge astonished him;
but still he thought that soon he would be able to bring them to a dead
stand. Question after question was asked, and question after question
was answered, to the utter astonishment of the large audience. The
contest was long, and of a thrilling nature; and not until the king was
convinced that he was dealing with his superiors did he cry out, in a
loud voice:

“It is enough!”

Every eye rested on Ashpenaz, as he stood ready to announce the names
of those whom the king wished to honor.

“Belteshazzar!”

Daniel, with calm dignity and genuine modesty, left his seat, walked to
the place appointed, and bowed low in the presence of the king.

“Shadrach!”

Hananiah, with a slight blush, that rendered him but the more comely,
left his seat, and stood by the side of his cousin, in the presence of
the king.

“Meshach!”

Mishael, with a smile on his lip, and an unfaltering step, found his
place by the side of his brother.

“Abednego!”

Azariah, with a degree of paleness spread over his youthful
countenance, left his seat, and joined his comrades.

“Apgomer!”

Apgomer was startled. The contented youth looked for no such result.
Delighted with the triumph of the Hebrews, and the punishment of his
cousins’ vanity, he considered himself well rewarded. But, remembering
himself, he quickly left his seat, and, with a pleasant smile upon his
countenance, he took his place by the side of Azariah.

The parchment was rolled up and delivered over to the king.

The king arose, and thus addressed the five:

“Young men! Your honor cometh not from the king. It is the result of
your own industry and perseverance. By the favorable interposition of
the gods, ye have arrived at a perfection in knowledge never exhibited
before on any occasion in the presence of the king. Four of your number
are from another country. The hills of Judah are yet fresh in your
memories, and Jerusalem is far from being forgotten. I have been well
pleased, from time to time, to learn of your amiable deportment and
noble bearing. Justice requires me to say that a peculiar perfection
has been visible in all your past performances; and now, Belteshazzar,
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, youths of Judah, ye are, through the
power and word of the king, elevated to share in all the immunities and
privileges of Chaldean citizens. Long, by your superior wisdom and
knowledge, may ye continue to shed additional luster on my already
shining empire.

“Apgomer! Thou hast well sustained thyself throughout the examination;
and, although thou hast not reached that lofty perfection manifested in
the uniform answers of these, thy young friends from Judah, yet thou
hast convinced the king that thou standest far above the level of thy
fellows—as such thou art rewarded.

“The king findeth no fault with any. Ye have given proof of a good
degree of mental strength, and I trust that from this place ye shall go
forth to add to the stability and perpetuity of my empire.

“In conclusion, I command that Belteshazzar, Shadrach, Meshach,
Abednego, and Apgomer be decorated with their appropriate badges, and
conducted, with due honor, to their apartments at the palace. The
examination is closed.”

The merry blasts of trumpets followed this announcement. The king and
his attendants first left the apartment; then followed the five youths,
next the other students. Then the concourse dispersed as their various
fancies dictated. The grand result was known, and, with few exceptions,
it gave universal satisfaction. The superior wisdom of the young
Hebrews was so abundantly evident, that no room was left for caviling;
and each one was compelled to unite in the righteous verdict of the
king. The amiable and modest deportment of the young Hebrews so won the
affections of the spectators that when they were adorned with their
badges of honor, they were loudly cheered.

Before they all disperse let the reader have the pleasure of a glimpse
at a group of countenances that give unmistakable signs of genuine
delight.

“Charming!” cried Joram, in ecstasies. “The reward of fidelity and
perseverance, Barzello!”




CHAPTER XV.


The stately mansion of Barzello was brilliantly illuminated. Streams of
light poured forth from every window. Sweet melody floated on the wings
of the gentle zephyrs. Chariot after chariot arrived, and halted before
the massive portals. It was evident to the passer-by that it was not an
event of common occurrence that called forth such unusual movements and
peculiar displays.

From the first moment of Mathias and Perreeza’s introduction to each
other, there was a warm attachment formed, and from the subsequent
revelations, this sentiment greatly increased.

On this night the maid of Judah was to become the happy bride of
Mathias; and from the smiles that greet smiles on the happy
countenances of those who hurry to and fro through the richly furnished
apartments, it is evident that their union is hailed as a joyous event.

The marriage was not, in all its parts, so strictly after the customs
of the Hebrews as if it had been solemnized in the land of Judah. The
long residence of Joram in Babylon, together with the very high regard
he cherished for his friend Barzello and his family, gave the features
of the occasion an admixture of Hebrew and Chaldean customs.

Never did the “Rose of Sharon” bloom fairer. Three years have added
ripeness to her beauty, and dignity to her charms. She is no longer the
timid maid of seventeen, but a blooming damsel, having reached her
twentieth year, with a finish stamped on all her words and actions; and
no one who has had the pleasure of her acquaintance can envy such a
choice spirit the heart and hand of one of the most brilliant young men
in the great metropolis.

The “Lily of the Valley” has but one thing to diminish her full share
of enjoyment—and that is by no means a trifling one. Her sweet
Perreeza, her constant companion for the last three years, whom she
loves as her own sister, is about to leave her father’s house and take
her abode with another. This, at times, makes her sad. The same cause
produces the same effect on Perreeza. She, also, is about to impress
the parting kiss on the fair cheek of one who has proved herself worthy
of her ardent love—one who gave her such a warm welcome to her large
heart, when a stranger in a foreign land—one who has continued to love
her with a pure affection. But these gloomy feelings are not to
predominate at this time; so the “Lily” ceased to droop, and the “Rose”
bloomed fresh and gay.

The announcement that Mathias, with his attendants, had arrived at the
entrance, caused an exclamation of joy. Jupheena and a merry group of
her maiden acquaintances formed themselves in procession, to meet them,
and to escort the company, with warm congratulations, to the parlors,
where they were received by Barzello with enthusiastic welcome, and
conducted with appropriate honors to their apartments.

The ceremony was performed in a spacious room, extending throughout the
length of the grand edifice. The services were conducted by a Hebrew
priest, who was brought to Babylon with other captives at the close of
Jeconiah’s reign of three months.

In entering the wedding apartment, one part of the company appeared at
one end, while the rest at the same time appeared at the other end.
Thus Mathias, with a band of young men, and Perreeza, with a group of
damsels, slowly marched, met, and formed into a circle in the center of
the room, the officiating priest, with a small altar, in the midst.

“Ye who are to take upon you the holy and solemn vows of matrimony,
draw nigh,” said the priest.

Without delay, the loving twain left the circle, and stood side by side
before the sacred altar, when the priest, after a brief marriage
ceremony, gave them this blessing: “God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob,
keep, bless, and preserve you, and so fill you with all benediction and
grace, that ye may walk before Him in the beauty of true perfection and
holiness. Perreeza, daughter of Amonober, of the royal line of Judah,
behold thy husband! Mathias, son of the illustrious Joram, behold thy
wife! Take her as thine own, and convey her to thine own habitation,
and there make merry with thy numerous friends.”

At the house of Joram, preparations on a magnificent scale were made
for the return of the bridegroom with his bride. A large number of the
flower of the young men and maidens of Babylon were assembled, to
congratulate the young pair on their happy union.

The bridegroom and bride led the train. They were seated in a superb
chariot, drawn by two spirited, snow-white steeds. The next was that of
Barzello, containing himself and daughter, while a merry company
brought up the rear. Nothing could have exceeded the beauty and
brilliancy of the occasion. A flashing light from a hundred flaming
torches completely banished the gloom of night, while hundreds of
delighted spectators made the welkin ring with cheers. They soon
reached the wide portals of Joram’s mansion. The charioteers alighted.
The bridegroom and bride first entered, the guests following in regular
order. “They that were ready entered with him into the marriage, and
the door was shut.”

[Illustration: The bridegroom and bride led the train]

The celebration was over. The company had retired. Quietude was
restored. The Joram family, with one additional gem, was once more left
to the peacefulness of its own mansion. They were all quietly seated.
Joram arose, and slowly approached the old harp, the friend of his
early days, and inspected it with fondness, while the thoughts of other
years fast crowded upon his memory.

“My dear father, and my dear Uncle Esrom!” said Perreeza, smiling, “now
that they are all gone, let us have one dear little song from _thee._”

“Ah, precious child!” said Esrom, at the same time brushing away a
fugitive tear, “I play so seldom nowadays, I fear I would not appear to
very good advantage among such fine performers.”

“Nay, father! but thy playing is far superior to our best
performances.”

“Well, Perreeza, I will try; but I fear my song will make thee sad.”

“Sadness at times, dear father, is far more profitable to the mind than
hilarity.”

“True, my daughter! True! We both know it by experience.”

The Hebrew took the harp, and, in tones peculiar for their sweetness,
sang a plaintive melody.




CHAPTER XVI.


Great success attended the reign of the King of Babylon. His powerful
legions had proved victorious in every clime. In addition to Judea, he
had subjugated Egypt, Syria, Phoenicia, and Arabia. Peace once more was
proclaimed, and the great body of the army was called home. The
monarch’s popularity was unbounded, and his praises were loudly
trumpeted on the wings of every breeze, from east to west, and from
north to south. The Chaldean empire rose still higher in glory, while
numerous tributaries continued to pour their streams of gold into its
already rich treasuries.

The afternoon was warm and sultry. The king reclined on an easy couch
within a bower, in the palace garden. His mind was occupied with
reflections on the past and thoughts of the future, and thus ran the
soliloquy of the mighty potentate:

“Yea, the years are passing! On looking back they seem but short. But
where has more been accomplished in so short a period? Ah, King of
Babylon, thy career, hitherto, has been a brilliant one. My armies have
clothed themselves with glory, which glory reflects back on their king.
Surrounding nations do me homage. My coffers are filled from the wealth
of Judah, Egypt, Syria, Phoenicia, and Arabia. What hinders my success?
Babylon is but in the infancy of her greatness. Her glory shall yet
reach the heavens! Tea, I will make her a fit place for the residence
of the gods. Selfish? Yea, truly. And who ever succeeded without being
selfish? Yea, the King of Babylon is selfish; but may the gods assist
me to hide it from the people. To them, may it appear that all my
efforts are put forth in _their_ behalf. But have I no regard for the
welfare of my people aside from my own glory? I have! The gods know I
have. And yet, I have a strong desire that my name shall be carried
down to posterity surrounded by a halo of glory. Is this selfishness?
Be it so. It must be done! Am I not deep in the affections of my
people? In this I cannot be mistaken. Never was the Chaldean empire so
firmly established. It will stand forever. Forever? Ah, that word has a
long meaning. But what power _can_ overthrow us? Is not Babylon the
mistress of the world? Is not Chaldea the queen of nations? Will not
her prosperity be perpetual? Alas for our brief knowledge! The gods, in
this, have not elevated the king above the beggar. The future is
enshrouded in gloom and hid from the gaze of mortals. My wise men say
that they can penetrate this gloom. Can they? I have my doubts. The
future—the far, far future of Chaldea—I should be glad to know: but who
shall sit on the throne one hundred years from to-day, and what shall
be the greatness of Babylon in two hundred years, are questions which
time alone must solve. Surely, this is a sultry day! Well, the future
we cannot know. It may be all in wisdom. Peradven—Ah, sleep! thou art
the great conqueror of conquerors. I surrender. Thy powers are
irresistible. Let me not long be thy captive. In one hour, I pray thee,
strike my chains asunder, and restore me to my friends.”

And the king, quietly yielding to the stern demands of Nature, was soon
in the fast embrace of slumber.


“Oh, ye gods that dwell in light, what a dream!” cried the king,
hastily leaving his couch, in agitation. “Oh, what a dream! But, alas,
it has gone from me! Oh, ye gods, why have I not retained it? But can I
not recall it to mind? Alas, it has fled! It has vanished! How
perplexing! It was not a _common_ dream. Nay, it bore particularly upon
the future of my vast empire. And yet not one clear circumstance is
retained in my memory. What shall I do? How shall the lost dream be
restored? My astrologers profess to give the _interpretation_ of
dreams. If they can do _this_, why not as well restore the dream
entire?”

And the king, in an agitated state of mind, left the garden and entered
the palace.

“Arioch!” cried the king, “haste thee, and without delay let the most
noted of the wise men and astrologers of Babylon be commanded to appear
in my presence. Let there be no useless tarrying. My demands are
urgent. Haste thee! Away!”

Without asking any questions, the astonished and half frightened
officer hastened from the presence of his king, and gave all diligence
in the performance of his urgent duty. He found ready access to the
prince of the magicians, delivered to him the message of the king, and
retired. The astrologer soon sent the message to his numerous
companions, and in a short time the concentrated wisdom of the great
metropolis stood in the presence of the king.

“Ye have done well,” said the king, eying them with a degree of
severity, “to be thus punctual; a failure on this point might have
involved you in serious difficulties. Ye stand before the king as the
representatives of wisdom. Ye profess to be able to bring to light
hidden mysteries, and to make known the transactions of the future. The
correctness of your professions is about to be tested. If it stands the
ordeal, well; if not, woe be unto you!”

“All this thy servants profess,” replied the chief astrologer, “and all
this they can perform. Let them but learn the desire of the king, and
they stand ready to execute his pleasure.”

“This day,” replied the king, “while slumbering on my bed, I dreamed a
peculiar dream, and my spirit is troubled to know the vision.”

“Oh, king, live forever!” replied the magicians, well pleased with the
nature of their task. “Tell thy servants the dream, and we will show
thee the interpretation thereof.”

“Will ye, indeed!” answered the king, ironically. “But the thing has
gone from me. I have no distinct remembrance of the various features of
the dream. And now, as a proof that ye are able to give a correct
interpretation, I demand that ye restore to my mind the dream in all
its parts. Remember that ye are not able to impose on me a false
vision. Now, proceed with your divination, and if in this ye fail, by
the gods, ye shall be cut to pieces, and your houses shall be made a
dunghill.”

“Tell thy servants the dream, and we will show the interpretation
thereof,” answered again the now astonished magicians.

“Ah, indeed!” said the king, disdainfully. “And have I not already told
you that the thing is gone from me; and how can I tell you the dream?
If I were able to do this, ye would readily produce your lying and
corrupt interpretations. Do ye not profess to derive your knowledge and
power of interpretation from the gods? Then let the same gods reveal
unto you the dream itself.”

“This is a strange demand, indeed,” answered the alarmed astrologers.
“There is not a man on earth that can grant thy desire, and show thee
this matter. Be assured, O king, that thou requirest impossibilities at
the hands of thy servants; and there is none other that can show it
before the king, except the gods, whose dwelling is not in the flesh.”

“And do ye not profess to hold intercourse with those gods?” answered
the king, in a passion; “thus ye have proved yourselves to be a band of
lying hypocrites. Begone from my presence, ye corrupt deceivers, and
learn that your guilty career is near its close!”

So the terrified magicians were hurried from the presence of the
passionate king, and by his orders were confined; and, moreover, a
decree was issued, that all the wise men of Babylon should be put to
death. Such was the unholy impulse of a king who had hitherto
manifested, on most occasions, a commendable degree of self-possession.

The next day, while Daniel was walking in the vicinity of the palace,
he was suddenly accosted by the captain of the guard, who informed him
that it was his painful duty to apprehend him as an individual who was
condemned to die by a late edict of the king.

“My worthy friend must certainly be mistaken in regard to the person,”
answered Daniel, with a smile; “for I am happy to know that in nothing
have I transgressed the law of my sovereign.”

“It would give me much pleasure on this occasion to find myself
mistaken,” replied Arioch, “but I fear that it will prove otherwise.
Art thou not Belteshazzar, of the captivity of Judah, and art thou not
numbered among the wise men?”

“And what can be the nature of my offense?” asked the young Hebrew,
nothing daunted. “If in anything I have offended, I ask not to be
spared.”

“And hast thou not heard the decree?”

“No new decree has reached my ears.”

“Then I shall communicate to Belteshazzar all I know concerning the
matter.” Which he proceeded to do.

“Many thanks to thee, kind officer. I have no desire to escape thy
vigilance. Only permit me to see the king, and, peradventure, things
may take a different course.”

“Any favor I can show, without violating positive orders, will readily
be granted. So I will make thy pleasure known to the king.”

Arioch hastened into the presence of the sovereign, and informed him
that one of the wise men prayed to be admitted into his presence.

“I desire not to see any of the vile race!” answered the king, with a
frown. “I was satisfied yesterday that they are a band of lying
impostors.”

“May the king pardon his unworthy servant,” replied Arioch; “but the
young man that seeks thy face to-day was not among the number
yesterday.”

“And by what name is he known?” frowningly inquired the king.

“His name, O king, is Belteshazzar, of the captivity of Judah.”

“_Belteshazzar! Belteshazzar!_” exclaimed the king, suddenly rising to
his feet. “May the gods forgive me! _Belteshazzar_, whose wonderful
display of wisdom astonished the city on the day of examination? Why
did I not think of him sooner? Yea, and his three companions! and all
at the palace! close at hand! and far superior in wisdom to all others!
_Belteshazzar!_ Yea, Arioch! By all means let the young Hebrew be
admitted.”

The captain of the guard hastened from the presence of the king to
inform Daniel of his success.

“Belteshazzar, the king grants thy petition, and thou art requested to
appear before him.”

Daniel, with his usual calmness and dignity, walked into the presence
of the king, while Arioch was beckoned to retire.

“Belteshazzar,” said the king, “thou art thus admitted into my
presence, and thou art at perfect liberty to speak freely on whatever
subject mostly occupies thy mind. I have heretofore been well pleased
with thy superior knowledge and wisdom, as well as that of thy
comrades. The army has of late occupied the most of my attention, and
among the various affairs of importance it is nothing astonishing if
some of my best subjects are partially overlooked. Proceed with thy
request.”

“A little over four years ago, O king, according to thy direction, thy
servant, with his three companions, was brought from the land of Judah
to the great city of Babylon. Hitherto, we have been the subjects of
thy kind regards. At thy expense we have been taught in all the
learning and wisdom of the Chaldeans; and, in the presence of hundreds
of thy worthy nobles, thou sawest fit to pronounce us superior in the
various branches of learning, and, amid enthusiastic cheers, we were
escorted to the palace of the king. We have endeavored to prove
ourselves worthy of the favors and regard. We have spared no pains to
render ourselves agreeable in the eyes of our superiors; and never have
we heard a word of complaint. We have made no pretensions to superior
wisdom. We are numbered among the wise by the direction of the king. In
all things have we aimed to be thy faithful, loyal subjects. Judge
then, O king, the astonishment of thy servant when, not half an hour
ago, he was apprehended by the captain of the guard as one already
appointed to death, according to the direction of the king. I wonder
not that thine anger is kindled against the false pretensions of the
magicians. But why should the innocent suffer with the guilty? And why,
especially, should thy Hebrew servants die without, at least, a trial
of their ability through the direct agency of their God, to restore to
the king his lost dream? I, therefore, pray thee, O king, to give thy
servant time, and the God that I worship will give me the knowledge of
the dream and its interpretation.”

“Belteshazzar,” cried the king, “thy request is granted. Go! and may
thy God give thee the knowledge of the vision.”

Daniel left the presence of the king and hastened to join his comrades
at their apartments.

“What now, fair cousin?” said Azariah. “What am I to learn from such a
countenance? Nothing of a joyful nature, I fear!”

“Alas, comrades!” answered Daniel, “unless Jehovah interfere with a
miraculous hand, we are undone. The decree has already gone forth from
royal lips that all the wise men of Babylon must perish by the sword.”

He then gave his companions a full history of the thing, as he had
received it from the mouth of Arioch, the captain of the guard.

“In all our trials hitherto,” said Hananiah, “we have found Jehovah to
be our sure refuge. In him we trust, and he will surely open to us a
way of escape.”

“Already I feel the strange assurance that from this conflict we shall
come forth triumphant,” said Daniel.

“Most humbly will we all bow before our God, and pray that a clear
revelation of the lost dream may be made on the mind of our beloved
Daniel,” said Azariah.

In solemn silence, the youths of Judah departed, and retired to their
respective apartments, there to prostrate themselves before the Lord in
humble devotion, with full confidence that the God in whom they trusted
would hear their prayer and grant their petition.

Many hours had already passed away. Stillness prevailed throughout the
thoroughfares of the great metropolis. Silence reigned throughout
Babylon. The faithful night guardians solemnly paraded the streets in
the performance of their important duties. The queen of cities was
hushed to repose; its vast thousands had, for a while, forgotten their
toil and sorrow. Old midnight was left far in the rear, and some faint
signs in the eastern skies betokened the distant approach of day. But
yonder, on their bended knees, see the trembling forms of Amonober’s
children! For many hours they have wrestled with God. Does He hear
them? But where is Daniel? Let us silently enter his chamber. The son
of Baramon is asleep! Mark his countenance!

Still the three brothers, “_with their faces toward Jerusalem_,” are
bowed before the Lord. But hark! Ah! it is the well-known voice of
Daniel. It rings melodiously throughout every apartment and it falls on
the ears of the cousins. Hark!

“Blessed be the name of God forever and ever, for wisdom and might are
his. And he changeth the times and seasons. He removeth and setteth up
kings. He giveth wisdom unto the wise, and knowledge to them that seek
understanding. He revealeth deep and secret things. He knoweth what is
in the darkness, and the light dwelleth with him. I thank Thee and
praise Thee, O God of my fathers, who hast given me wisdom and might,
and hast made known unto me now what we desired of Thee; for Thou hast
made known to us now the king’s matter.”

Early in the morning, Daniel sought an interview with Arioch, and
besought the reversing of the sentence against the wise men, and
assured him that he was fully prepared to appear before the king, and
restore to him the lost vision.

“Let Belteshazzar be assured,” said the captain of the guard, “that I
shall not move a finger against the wise men but by the positive orders
of the king, and I am happy to say that he hath ordered me to delay
execution until I receive further directions. I have just learned by
chance that the merchant Joram has had an interview with the king in
behalf of thee and thy friends. If I can be of any service to
Belteshazzar, I am at his pleasure.”

“In one hour, then, I will call on thee again, and thou shalt accompany
me into the presence of the king,” and Daniel departed.

Daniel found his companions sunk into calm slumber, from which they
were not then awakened. He partook of a slight repast, bowed once more
in adoration before God, and returned to seek Arioch, the captain of
the guard.

They were soon on their way to the palace. Arioch first entered.

“O king, live forever! Belteshazzar is without, desiring to see thee;
and—”

“No more from thee at this time,” interrupted the king. “Retire, and
send the young man hither.”

The officer, well used to the manner of his sovereign, bowed low and
retired.

“Belteshazzar,” said Arioch, “thou are admitted; and may the gods give
thee success.”

With a firm step, and a calm look, and with full confidence in the God
of Israel, the Hebrew youth once more marched into the presence of the
King of Chaldea.

“Belteshazzar,” cried the king, “art thou able to make known unto me
the dream which I have seen, and the interpretation thereof?”

“The secret which the king demandeth of his servant is far above the
knowledge and comprehension of all his wise men, astrologers,
magicians, and soothsayers. But the God of heaven—that Jehovah who
dwelleth in light—he revealeth secrets, and maketh known to the king,
Nebuchadnezzar, what shall come to pass in the latter days. Be it
known, therefore, to the king, that this secret is not revealed to me
through any wisdom that I have more than any living, but it is the kind
interposition of Jehovah in behalf of thy servant and his companions in
tribulation, who are doomed to die; and, moreover, to show the king
that Jehovah is the only God.

“Thy dream, and the vision of thy head, are these: As for thee, O king,
thy thoughts came into thy mind upon thy bed, what should come to pass
hereafter; and He that revealeth secrets maketh known to thee the grand
events of the future.

“Thou, O king, sawest a great image. This great image, whose brightness
was excellent, stood before thee, and the form thereof was terrible.
This image’s head was of fine gold, his breast and arms of silver, his
belly and thighs of brass, his legs of iron, his feet part of iron and
part of clay. Thou sawest that a stone smote the image upon the feet
which were of iron and clay, and brake them to pieces. Then was the
iron, the clay, the brass, the silver, and the gold, broken to pieces
together, and became like the chaff of the summer threshingfloor, and
the wind carried them away, that no place was found for them; and the
stone that smote the image became a great mountain, and filled the
whole earth. This is the dream. Now, O king, listen to the
interpretation thereof.

“Thou, O king, art a king of kings: for the God of heaven hath given
thee a kingdom, power, strength, and glory; and wheresoever the
children of men dwell, the beasts of the field, and the fowls of the
heaven, hath he given unto thine hand, and hath made thee ruler over
them all. Thou art this head of gold. And after thee shall arise
another kingdom inferior to thee; and another third kingdom of brass,
which shall bear rule over the earth. And the fourth kingdom shall be
strong as iron, forasmuch as iron breaketh in pieces and subdueth all
things; and as iron that breaketh all these, shall it break in pieces
and bruise. And whereas thou sawest the feet and toes, part of potter’s
clay and part of iron, the kingdom shall be divided, but there shall be
in it of the strength of the iron; forasmuch as thou sawest the iron
mixed with clay, so the kingdom shall be partly strong and partly
broken. And whereas thou sawest iron mixed with miry clay, they shall
mingle themselves with the seed of men; but they shall not cleave one
to another, even as iron is not mixed with clay. And in the days of
these kings shall the God of heaven set up a kingdom which shall never
be destroyed; and this kingdom shall not be left to other people, but
it shall break in pieces and consume all these kingdoms, and it shall
stand forever. Forasmuch as thou sawest that the stone was cut out of
the mountain without hands, and that it brake in pieces the iron, the
brass, the clay, the silver, and the gold, the great God hath made
known to the king what shall come to pass hereafter: and the dream is
certain, and the interpretation thereof sure.”

For a while the king, in silent astonishment, gazed on the wonderful
being before him; then he arose and fell prostrate at the feet of the
captive Hebrew, and paid him adoration suitable only to a divine being.

“Let thy adoration be paid to Jehovah, O king!” cried Daniel, “for it
is he that revealeth secrets, and bringeth to light the hidden
mysteries.”

“Of a truth, your God is a God of gods,” cried the king, “and a
revealer of secrets, seeing thou couldest reveal this mystery. And now,
Belteshazzar, thou art exalted to be a ruler over the whole province of
Babylon, and chief of the governors over all the wise men of Chaldea;
and if thou desirest any particular favor, let it not be hidden from
the king; for thou art worthy of all honors, and the full desire of thy
heart shall be given thee.”

“For himself, thy servant has nothing to ask; but be it known to thee,
O king, that thou art as much indebted for the restoration of the
vision to my three companions as to thy servant, for in answer to our
_united_ prayers the secret was made known. I pray thee, therefore,
that while I am thus honored, my companions may share in it.”

“Wisely remarked. Thy three companions shall be promoted to posts of
honor and trust in the empire. Let them, under thee, preside over the
province of Babylon.”

Thus Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah, through the miraculous
interposition of that Jehovah they loved, and whose law they honored,
were elevated to be the chief personages in the Chaldean empire.




CHAPTER XVII.


Years passed by, and uninterrupted success attended the reign of the
king of Babylon. The aggrandizement of the city was without a parallel
in history. It appeared to have become the leading passion of the
monarch’s mind. The reader may have a faint idea of the glory of the
city when he remembers that it was a regular square, forty-five miles
in compass, enclosed by a wall two hundred feet high, and fifty broad,
in which there were one hundred gates of brass. Its principal ornaments
were the Temple of Belus, and the famous “hanging gardens.”

The Temple of Belus was most remarkable for a prodigious tower that
stood in the midst of it. According to Herodotus, it was a square, of a
furlong on each side—that is, half a mile in the whole compass; and
according to Strabo, it was a furlong in height. It consisted of eight
towers, built one above the other; and because it decreased gradually
towards the top, Strabo calls the whole a pyramid. It is not only
asserted, but proved, that this tower far exceeded the greatest of the
pyramids of Egypt in height.

The ascent to the top was by stairs round the outside. Over the whole,
on the top of the tower, was an observatory, by means of which the
Babylonians became more expert in astronomy than any other nation, and
made, in a short time, the great progress in it ascribed to them in
history.

In addition to these magnificent works, the public buildings of Babylon
were counted by thousands, and its splendid mansions by tens of
thousands.

The four Hebrews still continued in power, and more than retained their
former excellence. Daniel was highly esteemed by the king for his great
wisdom and skill in the affairs of government; but the impressions of
the superiority of Jehovah, made upon the monarch’s mind at the
interpretation of the dream, had well-nigh been obliterated. Pride
rebelled against the thought of the future overthrow of the empire; and
fain would he have persuaded himself that uneasiness brought about by a
troublesome dream was unworthy of him.

The three brothers, in their spheres, performed their duties with a
degree of perfection and exactitude that greatly pleased the king; and
for this, more than on account of their genuine excellence, were they
regarded by him in a favorable light. Those pleasing qualities so
apparent in the earlier history of the king were fast disappearing, to
give way to pride, vanity, peevishness, and even cruelty.

The bold and impetuous declaration of the king, in regard to the
sovereignty of the God of Israel, and the peculiar circumstances under
which the poor Hebrews were promoted, were far from being forgotten by
the Babylonians. There was a deep and abiding dissatisfaction in the
minds of thousands in the realm, not so much on account of the
elevation of the Hebrews, as on account of the conviction that the
sovereign was not a sincere worshiper of the gods of the empire. The
king, by occasional remarks from his nobles, had noticed more than once
that there was something in their language that indicated a lack of
confidence in his fidelity to the gods. Nebuchadnezzar, notwithstanding
his increasing vanity, was far from being indifferent to the estimation
in which he was held by his subjects. He knew that his safety was based
on the confidence and friendship of his people, and he was determined,
if by his former professions he had unwisely magnified the God of
Daniel, and thereby lost the confidence of his Chaldean subjects, to
give them unmistakable proof that he still was a worshiper at the
shrine of Belus.

Summoning Belrazi, one of his most trusted officers, to his side, the
king said:

“From the nature of thy position, thou art called to mingle in very
numerous circles, and no man at the palace is better qualified than
thou to judge of the feelings of the subjects toward their king. Come,
now, be frank and plain with thy sovereign, and tell me how I stand in
the estimation of my nobles.”

“O king, live for ever!” replied the officer, highly delighted with
this unusual mark of the king’s confidence. “Thou livest in the warm
affections of thy nobles, and in the pure regard of all thy numerous
subjects. Thou art the peculiarly favored of the gods. All the nations
of the earth fear thee, and pay their homage at thy feet.”

“True. But art thou not aware that on one point my subjects are not as
fully satisfied with their king as they might be? Behold, I have placed
unusual confidence in my servant, and in return the king requireth
equal sincerity.”

“As thy soul liveth, O king, I shall hide nothing from thee. In
mingling with thy nobles, I find that, without distinction, they are
abundantly loyal. In a very few instances I have heard language that
indicated that my lord the king was favorably inclined toward the God
of the Hebrews, and less ardent in his devotion to the gods of Chaldea.
But in this, has not my lord the king the perfect right to do as
seemeth good in his sight?”

“The King of Babylon can do as seemeth good in his sight; and it shall
seem good in his sight, not many days hence, to give abundant proof
that the gods of Chaldea are the gods of the king. I am well satisfied
with thy words. Let this interview, and others of the same nature which
we may have, remain a secret. Thou mayest now leave, and to-morrow at
the third hour be punctual to meet me again at this apartment.”

The dignitary retired, and the king was left alone in his apartment.

“My suspicions were well founded! And, indeed, have they had no cause?
Well, I was then young, and without experience. But was not the
recovery of that dream a wonderful thing? Will anyone dare deny that?
Had the God of Belteshazzar nothing to do with it? Again my thoughts
are on the God of Israel! ’Tis hard to banish it from my mind! The
interpretation was natural, and perfectly consistent. But I swear by
the gods, that it shall not come to pass! I will establish my empire on
such a sure foundation that it shall not be in the power of mortals to
shake it. Are not the nations at my command? Are not my armies
stationed on every shore? Is not Babylon the terror of kings? Ah! where
is the power that can compete with Chaldea? My nobles are jealous of my
fidelity to the gods. Yea, truly, and have I not given them reason?

“This must go no further. If I have some lingering fears of the God of
Belteshazzar, it must not be made manifest. In this I must regain the
full confidence of the nation. Are they jealous of the four Hebrews? In
this I fear them not. They are worth more to my empire than any chosen
score of their fellow-officers. And of the wisdom of my wise men—is not
more than one half of it centered in Belteshazzar? If they are envious
of these young men, let it not be known to the king, or by the powers
of Belus I will let them feel my vengeance!

“But for the _king_ to be suspected of being a believer in their God is
of a more serious nature. What measure shall I resort to in order to
satisfy the mind of the nation? Deny the insinuation in a proclamation?
Shall the King of Babylon ever stoop to this? Never! Something more
consistent with royal dignity than this must be found. An image? Yea!
That will do, O king! Thou hast well thought. An image of Bel. What?
‘With the head of gold, the breast and arms of silver, the belly and
thighs of brass, the legs of iron, the feet of iron and clay?’ Nay! The
image of Bel which I shall set up for public worship, shall be all of
gold. Why otherwise? My wealth is inexhaustible. Who, after such a
display, would ever suspect the King of Babylon of adhering to the God
of the Hebrews? This, then, is my purpose. I shall build a great image
of Bel, made of pure gold, and set it up in some favorable spot, and
appoint a day for its public dedication.”

The next morning, at the appointed hour, Belrazi was punctual to meet
the king at his apartment. The monarch, well pleased with his scheme of
the image, manifested a pleasant countenance.

“Thou art punctual, Belrazi. The king is well pleased to meet thee. Thy
frank sincerity yesterday was an additional proof of thy worth. I have
seen fit, since we parted, to bestow some thought on the subject on
which we conversed. It is of the utmost importance to the well-being
and security of the empire that the people have unbounded confidence in
their king in all things—in matters of religion as well as in matters
of state. Now, in order to expel all doubts from the minds of my nobles
in regard to my fidelity to the gods of my fathers, I have thought of a
measure which, I trust, must prove successful. It is this: Let an image
of our god Bel be made of gold. Let it be of large dimensions, and far
superior to any image heretofore seen in any country. Let it be set up
in some favorable spot; and on the day of its dedication, let all who
hold office under the government, be commanded, by a royal decree, to
appear on the spot, and, at the appointed hour, fall down and worship
it; and let the penalty of disobedience be death. Let those who dare
set at naught the will of the king be taken and thrown into the burning
fiery furnace. What thinkest Belrazi of this?”

“O king, live forever! Thy goodness is unbounded. Thy design is
dictated by that wisdom that cometh from the gods. The measure shall be
hailed throughout the empire with shouts of rejoicing, and the day of
its dedication will be a day of days in the future history of Chaldea.”

“Let no time be lost, then,” replied the king. “Let my head goldsmith
be called, and from the lips of the king let him receive instructions
in regard to the making of the image. This is my desire. Let the
measure be known but to a few, until the proclamation shall go forth.”

The head goldsmith was soon in the presence of the king, and after much
deliberation the exact dimensions of the great image were settled upon;
and, moreover, it was agreed, that by a certain day it should be
completed.

According to the direction of the king, no publicity was given to the
measure. Few of the king’s confidential friends were apprised of it. In
the meantime, no pains were spared by the chief goldsmith to have
everything in readiness by the time appointed. Hundreds of the craft
were called together to speed the great undertaking; and, even before
the time agreed upon, the idol was ready to be set up. Word was sent to
the king, and immediately the proclamation was trumpeted far and wide,
throughout the length and breadth of the vast empire:

“Nebuchadnezzar, King of Babylon, to all his Princes, Governors,
Captains, Judges, Treasurers, Counselors, Sheriffs, and all rulers of
his provinces: Ye are hereby commanded to appear on the twenty-third
day of the eighth month, at the third hour of the day, in the plain of
Dura, within the province of Babylon, to witness the dedication of the
great image which I have set up in honor of Bel, the god of the
Chaldeans. Ye are, moreover, hereby commanded, at the hour appointed,
to fall down and worship the golden image. Disobedience will be
punished with the utmost rigor. Those who shall refuse to bow and
worship shall in that same hour be taken and thrown into a burning
fiery furnace.
    “Given under my hand and seal, at the great City of Babylon, on
    this the fourth day of the seventh month.


“Nebuchadnezzar.”


The dedication of the great image now became the chief theme of
conversation. In city and village, on hill and in dell, in the palace
and cottage, it was the leading subject; and throughout the empire it
gave universal satisfaction. The measure for the time being had its
desired effect—to establish in the minds of the Chaldeans the
conviction that the king was faithful to the gods.

This proclamation was received by the three Hebrews with profound
astonishment and deep regret. For many years now they had enjoyed
tranquility and Worshiped the God of their fathers in calm simplicity;
and this was the first time, since they came to Babylon, that they were
required to do violence to their conscience by worshiping a false god.
Daniel, on business of great importance, was sent to Egypt.

The three worthies soon met for the special purpose of deciding upon a
course of action to be followed in the approaching emergency. No
fearful apprehensions could be read in those countenances. No fainting
fear took hold of their spirits. Their eyes sparkled with holy courage,
their cheeks flushed with noble emotions, their forms were unusually
erect. They were fully prepared for the worst.

The opening remarks were from Hananiah.

“Well, brothers, another cloud seems to darken our skies, and to hang
threateningly over our heads; but I trust that, as servants of the Host
High, we have by this time learned to gaze upon such things without
terror or alarm. We are now assembled together to take a calm, sober
look at the thing as it really is, and decide on our future course. We
are surely much indebted to the king. For a number of years, we have
been the recipients of his bounty and the objects of his kind regard,
for which, undoubtedly, we all feel grateful. But the question is this:
is it our duty, as the professed worshipers of the God of Israel, to
yield obedience to the demand of an unholy and wicked law, that throws
insult into the face of the God of heaven, and the Jehovah of the
universe? In this case, either obedience or disobedience must be
pleasing to God. Is it the will of Jehovah that we should obey this
law, or disobey it? To my mind, it is clear that, in this case, nothing
short of a manly _disobedience_ can be agreeable to the will of our
God. Brothers, we must have decision of character. In this matter there
must be no compromise with iniquity.”

And Hananiah took his seat with a smile of holy satisfaction playing on
his lips, when Mishael arose, and said:

“The question rests here, brothers! Can any edict from any king,
potentate, or human power, make null and void the laws of the eternal
God? To this question, from us, there is but one short answer, and that
is, ‘_Nay!_’ Is He not higher than the highest? Are not His commands
far superior to all human edicts? The law of Jehovah is supreme, and
let the _higher law_ be obeyed, though the heavens should fall!
Azariah, what sayest thou?”

“I say I shall not bow to any god but the God of Israel! In Him I
trust. If we perish by the hand of our enemies, so let it be! Better
death than a base betrayal of our sacred trust. But is not that God who
saved us once from death able to deliver us again? Is his arm
shortened, that he cannot save? Then let them heat the fiery furnace!
That God in whom we trust will yet deliver us from this calamity, and
overrule this dark providence to his glory.”

A knock was heard. The door was opened, and the pleasant voice of the
newcomer gave them to understand that he was no other than the
kind-hearted Apgomer.

“I trouble you, at this time, as a bearer of dispatches from my kind
master, Belteshazzar, who is now in Egypt, on government business of
pressing importance. Before he left, he gave me positive orders to
deliver all messages to his cousins without the least delay.”

“Thou art ever welcome, dear Apgomer!” answered Hananiah. “and
especially to-day, as a bearer of a dispatch from one we love so well.”

“And here is another, from one that, peradventure, ye love the more. Ye
perceive that the children of Judah have some confidence in their
Chaldean friend.”

“And great is the confidence thou deservest, as one that has proved
himself a genuine friend in every trial,” said Azariah.

“Let not my noble friend speak thus!” said the modest Chaldean, “for I
deserve it not. I must return, and any further dispatches that may be
sent to my care shall, without delay, be conveyed hither. Adieu!”

These dispatches proved to be letters. The last delivered was
confidentially handed to Apgomer by Mathias, and was written by
Perreeza.

The letter from Daniel was first considered. It was read aloud by
Azariah.

“_Ever Dear Cousins:_ I have this moment read the wonderful
proclamation of the king, in regard to the great image of Bel, to be
dedicated on the plains of Dura. By some strange providence, he saw fit
to send me hither, with imperative instructions to remain until some
unpleasant affairs between the two governments are amicably adjusted;
and before this can be accomplished, the great idolatrous display will
have passed. Your minds, undoubtedly, have been much troubled in view
of the unpleasant position in which ye are placed. So hath the mind of
your beloved cousin. Already I know full well that, with holy courage,
ye are ready for the trial. The flames of a fiery furnace must fail to
frighten a true Israelite from the worship of the God of his fathers.
Past favors are not to be repaid by proving traitors to the God of
Israel. We are the _temporal_ subjects of the King of Babylon it is
true, and in anything that interferes not with the command of Jehovah,
we are happy to render him willing obedience: but with us obedience to
the _higher law_ is paramount to all other considerations. The words of
a loving mother are yet fresh in my mind. The morning on which we left
our beloved Jerusalem, she called me to her apartment, and, among a
multitude of other good things, she said, ‘The same integrity to the
law of thy God will certainly secure thy prosperity among strangers.
Thy path may occasionally be obstructed; but trust in God, my son, and
all will be well. The land whither thou goest is a land of universal
idolatry, where the God of thy fathers is not known, and where his
worship may cause universal ridicule. Heed them not. With thy face
toward Jerusalem, let thy petitions daily ascend to the God of Abraham,
and he will direct thy paths. Never prove a traitor to the religion of
thy fathers. My son will be obedient to the laws of his king that do
not come in contact with his religion; but if ever thou art required to
render obedience to any law that clashes with the law of thy God,
remember, my son, that _disobedience_ to that law must be rendered,
even unto death if required. Let “Obedience to the Higher Law” be thy
motto; for thy mother would sooner hear of thy death as a martyr to the
religion of Judah, than of thy promotion to a throne by apostasy.’
    “These burning words of your Aunt Josepha, to her son Daniel, are
    the words of Daniel to his cousins. Prove true to your religion!
    and if in this ye die, it shall be but the will of your God. But,
    cousins, ye shall not die! That same Jehovah who appeared in our
    behalf years ago, in the revelation of the king’s dream, will again
    stretch out his arm to save. If Jehovah interferes in your behalf,
    there is not fire enough in all Chaldea to injure a hair of your
    head. I long to be with you! Nothing would give me greater pleasure
    than to be immediately called back to Babylon. Then side by side
    would we stand erect, and scorn to bow before a golden image. But
    it appears to be the will of Jehovah that I should be absent. I
    have confidence that I shall soon embrace you in Babylon: but if in
    this I am mistaken, we soon shall meet in the better Jerusalem
    above.


“Daniel.”


It was with some difficulty that Azariah commanded sufficient control
over his feelings to enable him to read the letter aloud; but with a
trembling accent it was done.

“Thanks be to Jehovah.” cried Mishael, “for such consolation in the
midst of sore affliction.”

“But what says our beloved Perreeza?” said Hananiah.

No one felt willing to read aloud their sister’s letter, so it was read
by each in silence. It ran thus:

“_Dear Brothers:_ With emotions indescribable, Perreeza endeavors to
write these few lines, that may impart some consolation to her dear
brothers while strong waves of affliction pass over their souls. Being
much confined of late to my dwelling, it was but yesterday that I
derived any knowledge of that awful proclamation of the king in regard
to his great image. Uncle Esrom is at present traveling in a far
country on important business, and I am deprived of his counsel and ye
are deprived of his aid in this crisis. Ob, my brothers! the companions
and guardians of my juvenile hours, into whose care and warm affections
I was committed by the parting words of a dying mother! How ardently
does your sister love you! how deep for you is the affection of
Perreeza’s heart! What can I say that will cause one sweet ingredient
to drop into your bitter cup? Nothing better do I know, than the
favorite sentence of our beloved Jeremiah. If the good prophet were
here would he not say, ‘Jehovah is the strength of all his saints;
trust in him and be at peace!’ Oh, how sweetly flowed the gentle words
of the man of God! Brothers! dear as ye seem to my throbbing heart,
terrible as the fiery furnace may rage, Perreeza has no desire that
your safety should be purchased at a dishonorable price. Nay, brothers!
if for a moment I should indulge in such an unholy desire, that moment
I should forfeit all right to call you brothers. I shall not even
_advise_ you to stand firm in the fiery trial. Ah! too well do I know
that your noble souls already scorn the command of an apostate king,
who once acknowledged the supremacy of the God of Israel.
    “My precious Jupheena came to see me this morning, and she is very
    confident that the God in whom we trust will bring you through this
    trial triumphantly. Dear brothers, accept this hasty dispatch as an
    offering of pure affection. Farewell, until our next meeting.”


“Perreeza.”


With full hearts, the brothers bowed before the Lord and rolled their
burdens upon the Almighty. The entire consecration was now made, and
they were ready for the trial. The struggle was over and their minds
became as calm and tranquil as a summer evening.




CHAPTER XVIII.


In an extravagantly furnished apartment of a fine-looking mansion in
the heart of the city, sits a family group, consisting of a father,
mother, two sons, and one daughter. They are far from exhibiting in
their countenances that contentment of mind which is a “continual
feast,” and yet something has transpired that gives them, for the time
being, an unusual degree of pleasurable emotion.

The father leaves his seat, and with folded arms he begins to pace
slowly backward and forward the length of the apartment with an air of
pompous dignity, while ever and anon a smile of extreme selfishness
plays on his lips. He has received intelligence which he considers by
no means displeasing.

The mother, to whom nature has been rather niggardly in the endowment
of outward charms, is loaded with a superabundance of golden ornaments,
in the vain attempt to supply the lack of the natural with the
artificial. In her eye you look in vain for intelligence, or in her
countenance for benevolence; but she smiles! yea, indeed, with
something the mother is evidently pleased.

The two sons, in making a declaration of their brotherhood to a
stranger, would stand in no danger of being suspected on that point as
deceivers. The resemblance is quite striking.

The daughter is beautiful—in her own estimation. To this she clings as
an essential part of her creed—that she constitutes a very important
share of the beauty of Babylonia, but in getting it implanted into the
creed of others, she proves unsuccessful—her converts being wholly
confined to her father’s household. She also, with the rest, on this
night manifests an unusual degree of hilarity.

“Ah! they are ensnared at last!” said Scribbo, with an air of triumph.
“They must either deny their religion or face the furnace. This is
right, and happy am I that the king has at last seen fit to enact a law
that will bear with stringency on those pretending foreigners who fill
the most important stations in the government.”

“But, brother,” said the sister, eagerly, “which thinkest thou they
will choose—the worship of our gods or the fiery furnace?”

“I am in hopes they are fanatical enough to choose the latter,”
answered the brother; “for in case they should choose the former, they
would be as much in our way as ever. But then it would be some
consolation to know that they had been compelled to worship and bow
before the gods of the Chaldeans.”

“There is one thing to be deeply regretted,” said Shagoth. “I am
informed that Belteshazzar, the great Rab Mag, is now in Egypt, and is
not expected to return for some weeks. He also ought to bear them
company and share the same fate. But if only we can put these three out
of our way we shall have abundant reason to adore the gods.”

“But, my sons,” said the mother, “will not these Hebrews elude notice
among so many? The gods know how I fear lest after all they may
escape.”

“Fear not that, mother,” answered Scribbo. “Shagoth and myself will so
arrange matters as to be near them; and if they bow not with us we will
on the spot report them to the king.”

“This is a matter of ponderous importance, and of immense consequence,”
said the promenading father. “From this, Chaldea shall hereafter reap
abundant harvests. These proud and insolent foreigners who insinuate
themselves into offices which native Chaldeans ought to fill, will now
learn a lesson of modesty to which they have hitherto been strangers.
Far better for our beloved Chaldea if the superstitious brood had been
left in their own country. May the gods grant that every Hebrew
office-holder may so cling to his imaginary god as to walk straight
from office into sure destruction. My motto is ‘Chaldeans for Chaldea!’
Personally, I have no hostility toward these young men. Nay! But, O my
country! my country! it is for thee my heart bleeds! Sons! ye shall do
well to be on your guard, and see to it that they escape not your
vigilance. If they die, their offices will be vacant, and must soon be
supplied by some persons of ability. O my country! It is for thee, O
Chaldea! my heart bleeds!”

“But,” said the anxious mother, “are not these important offices at the
disposal of the Rab Mag? If he still remains, can we expect any favors
from him? Alas! my husband may well cry, ‘O my country!’”

“Perhaps,” said the daughter, “if he hears of the death of his
companions, he will never return, but flee over the mountains to his
own country.”

“A trivial mistake, my daughter,” said the patriot; “his country would
lie in an opposite direction.”

“But could he not change his course?” asked the half-offended daughter.

“Yea, verily, my child, if he should find that he was in the wrong
path; peradventure, this would constitute his first business.”

“I can hardly hope for such a happy result, sister,” said Shagoth. “The
conniving demagogue will cling to his office until compelled by a
stringent law to abandon it.”

“Before many days, the Rab Mag will return,” said the erect promenader.
“And will not the king ere long set apart another day for the public
worship of the gods? And if this foreign pretender escapes now, justice
will overtake him then. The vengeance of our deities will not always
slumber, and these worshipers of other gods shall soon know that the
best offices in our government and the best interests of our beloved
country are not to be entrusted to a horde of superstitious foreigners.
O my country! Sons! let me caution you again to be on the watch for
these three rulers. They hold important offices, and such a favorable
opportunity is not to be lightly regarded. O my country, my country!”


The day appointed for the dedication of the great image at last
arrived. Its ushering in was hailed by the populace with universal
enthusiasm, marked by shouts of rejoicing. The day was fair and
beautiful. No threatening cloud was visible in the heavens. The
metropolis, at a very early stage, presented one grand scene of
activity and preparation. The soldiery were out by thousands, their
glittering panoply dazzling in the clear sunbeams. Officers of all
grades hurried to and fro with excitement visible on their
countenances. Those swarming thousands were evidently expecting some
signal, at which they were ready to march. The word of command was at
last given, and the multitude moved forward.

Onward the mighty concourse moved through the principal thoroughfares,
amid the ringing of bells, the blasts of trumpets, and the waving of
banners, until they arrived in a spacious square in front of the royal
palace. Here they halted.

At last, the massive portals were thrown open, and the king, in a
magnificent chariot, surrounded by an imposing guard, made his
appearance. He waved his hand in the direction of the multitude, when,
with one voice, the people exclaimed:

“O king, live forever!”

The procession was soon on its way to the plains of Dura, the king
leading the pompous train, while eager thousands brought up the rear.
On the way, they were joined by thousands more, who at different places
waited their arrival, and at every stage the high praises of the King
of Babylon echoed from ten thousand voices.

The great image far surpassed anything of its kind within the realm.
Its dimensions were large and well proportioned, its height being
twenty cubits, and its breadth six cubits, elevated on a richly gilded
pedestal, forty cubits in height, thus being perfectly visible to all
the worshipers. Around its base stood the officiating priests of Belus,
with solemn visages, their long flowing robes adorned with numerous
articles of rich regalia.

Scribbo and Shagoth, faithful to their revengeful promise, were on the
keen alert for the three Hebrews. In their wanderings they came across
Apgomer.

“We are in search of thy three Hebrew friends,” said Shagoth. “Canst
thou inform us where we may find them?”

“I can,” promptly replied Apgomer. “I know the exact spot on which they
stand.”

“This is truly gratifying,” replied Scribbo. “Now lead us to the spot
without delay.”

“To my Hebrew friends your presence would be anything but agreeable;
and, as I am under far more obligations to them than to some others, I
am very happy to disregard your request.”

“Thou art in command of the same daring insolence as characterized thy
school-days,” said Scribbo, in an angry tone.

“To be accused of insolence by the envious sons of Skerbood, is fully
equivalent to being called noble and gentle by a worthy citizen,”
answered Apgomer, with a smile of contempt playing on his lip. “So
permit me to thank you for the high compliment.”

“Speakest thou so to us, thou insulting pretender!” cried Shagoth, in a
rage. “Thou hadst better depart ere we punish thy insolence with the
edge of the sword.”

“Terrible words, surely, from mighty swordsmen!” said Apgomer, smiling.
“Is it any wonder I tremble beneath your gaze? Even from the days of
your childhood your courage and valor have been proverbial. My cousin
Scribbo, at the early age of ten years, would, without fear, push
headlong into the water little girls years younger than himself; while
the brave Shagoth, at the early age of twelve, could find no more
pleasing recreation than to scourge his poor relatives of eight years
old and under. Then ye were heroes in embryo; and now, having grown up,
is it any wonder that the whole realm quakes beneath your tread? Hail!
all hail, ye mighty sons of Skerbood! This is the day in which ye look
for the full realization of your guilty hope, in the death of three of
the choicest noblemen that ever adorned the Chaldean realm. Be not too
sure of your prey. Strange things have appeared in those young men’s
histories, and more strange manifestations may yet appear.”

“Too long already have we listened to thy insolent and silly harangue,”
said Scribbo. “Right glad are we that these foreign pets, who have so
long been dandled on the lap of royalty, are at last brought to the
test. We only hope that their fanaticism may lead them to disobedience.
In that event, we would ask for no greater pleasure than to be
permitted to throw them into yon blazing furnace.”

“Ye are surely well adapted for such an undertaking. By all means,
volunteer your services; and remember that, in the midst of your
burning patriotism, these young foreigners hold responsible offices,
that must be filled by some competent personages.”

“Away, Scribbo, from the sound of this barking dog!” said Shagoth. And
the two office-seekers hurried away in search of the doomed Hebrews.

They had gone but a little distance when they saw the three brothers
together, a few rods on the left from the throne. The two Chaldeans,
unobserved, stationed themselves close behind them, and there waited
for the grand result.

Soon, a signal was given for the throng to come to silence and order.
This was not easily accomplished. At length, however, order was fully
gained, and breathless silence reigned over half a million of
idolaters. This silence was broken by the loud accents of heralds, who
passed through all parts of the assembly, crying at the top of their
voices:

“To you it is commanded, O people of all nations and languages, that at
what time ye hear the sound of the flute or harp, ye fall down and
worship the golden image that Nebuchadnezzar the king hath set up. And
whoso falleth not down and worshipeth shall the same hour be cast into
a burning fiery furnace.”

The heralds returned to their places, and their voices were no longer
heard.

The grand signal was given! The musical instruments poured forth their
loud strains, and the great mass fell prostrate before the glittering
idol. But, yonder, behold those champions of moral integrity! Only
three among five hundred thousand! While all besides have bowed the
knee, there they stand! Their figures are heroic, their forms are
erect, their arms folded, while an involuntary smile of contempt plays
on their lips.

“By the gods, we have them!” whispered Shagoth, in ecstasies. “Behold,
Scribbo, how erect their posture!”

“Hold thy peace!” whispered Scribbo, in return, “or they will hear us.
When we rise, then we will confront them to good advantage. Thanks to
the gods, they have well favored us.”

The signal for the vast throng to arise from their worshiping attitude
was given. No sooner was it heard, than Scribbo and Shagoth walked with
an air of conscious triumph and stood before the three Hebrews.

“And who are these presumptuous and rash mortals,” said Shagoth, “who
thus dare to set the laws of the king at defiance? Tremble, ye daring
wretches! for who are ye to withstand the vengeance of our sovereign?”

“To the king, then, we are accountable; and not to thee, thou crawling
reptile,” answered Hananiah. “So haste thee away; and if thou hast any
authority, let it be displayed within its own sphere.”

“Ah!” cried Shagoth, “ye are doomed to die! See ye not the heated smoke
of the fiery furnace? Your guilty and rash conduct shall be made known
to the king without delay. Your guilty career is well-nigh run; and
Chaldea shall soon be delivered from the curse of foreign
office-holders.”

“But not from the curse of a groveling, envious, unprincipled horde of
office-_seekers_,” said Azariah, casting a withering glance on the two
brothers.

“Away, brother!” cried Scribbo. “For why should we hear the abusive
harangue of these overfed demagogues?”

And away the patriots hurried with their complaint to the king.

The monarch was surrounded by a large number of his nobles, who were
loud in their congratulations at the complete success that had crowned
the day.

An officer in uniform came forward, and bowed low in the presence of
the king.

“What is thy pleasure, Arioch!” asked Nebuchadnezzar.

“Two men have approached the guard, O king, greatly desiring to be
admitted into thy presence.”

“Let them be admitted!” was the answer.

With anything but ease of manner, Scribbo and Shagoth walked into the
royal presence.

“And what have ye to communicate?” inquired his majesty, eying them as
if not quite satisfied with their appearance.

“O king, live forever!” replied the Chaldeans. “Thou, O king, hast made
a decree that every man shall fall down and worship the golden image;
and whoso falleth not down and worshipeth should be cast into a fiery
furnace. There are certain _Jews_ whom thou hast set over the affairs
of the province of Babylon—Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego—these men, O
king, have not regarded thee; they serve not thy gods, nor worship the
golden image which thou hast set up.”

Then was the king full of wrath and fury. “What!” said he, “is my royal
decree to be thus set at defiance? Is this the return they make to the
king for their high promotion in the government? By all the gods, I
will bend their stubborn wills, or they will suffer my vengeance to the
uttermost! Let them be summoned into my presence without further
delay!” And officers were soon on their march to bring the offenders.

The king, from his elevation, saw them approaching. An innocent smile
rested on each countenance; and in spite of his haughty arrogance, the
king’s heart was touched, and his better feelings for a while
triumphed. They stood in his presence, and respectfully, as usual, made
their obeisance.

“Am I rightly informed, O Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego,” said the
king, “when I hear that ye do not serve my gods, nor worship the golden
image that I have set up? It may be true; yet for your sakes, I will
give you one more trial: but beware that ye further provoke not my
displeasure! The king’s command is not to be trifled with!”

Without the least betrayal of fear, Hananiah, in a firm tone of voice,
addressed the monarch:

“O king, it requireth no careful deliberation in this matter. In so
plain a case the answer is ready at hand. Thy servants, as thou well
knowest, are natives of Judah, and we worship no god but the God of our
fathers. As foreigners, we have at all times been careful to use no
disrespectful language in regard to the gods of Chaldea, or those who
pay them homage; and hitherto, unmolested, have we paid our simple
adoration to the Lord God of Israel. The law of our God, with us, is
regarded as infinitely superior to all human edicts. In all things
pertaining to the government, we have faithfully endeavored to do thy
will, and obey the directions of our sovereign. But not until this day
have we been required to deny our religion, and insult our God. To
thee, O king, we are much indebted. For many years have we been the
objects of thy kind regard. But be it known to Nebuchadnezzar, that the
continuance of his favor is not to be purchased by a base betrayal of
our principles, or a denial of our God. We cannot serve thy gods, nor
worship the golden image which thou hast set up. We bow the knee to God
Most High alone! To us thy fiery furnace has no terrors! Jehovah, in
whom we trust, is able to deliver us. That God who divided the Red Sea
in two parts and made Israel to pass through the midst of it, and who
parted the waves of the swelling Jordan, is able to preserve thy
servants alive in the midst of the devouring flames! Yea, _he_ will
deliver us out of thy hand, O king! But, if in this we are mistaken, be
it known unto thee, that _we can never obey any law of man that
requireth a violation of the law of God_. Therefore, we refuse to serve
thy gods, or worship this golden image which thou hast set up.”

“Seize the ungrateful wretches!” cried the king, in a rage, while
paleness spread over his countenance. “Seize all who set my authority
at naught, and who thus insult their king! By the gods, now shall they
feel the weight of my displeasure, and reap the reward of their daring
insolence! Let the furnace be heated seven times hotter than usual. Let
the worthless dogs be thrown in, and let their God, if he be able,
prove himself superior to the gods of Chaldea! Bind them now, in my
presence!”

The three brothers were seized on the spot by several strong men, and
bound hand and foot with cords. When this was done, they were conveyed
in the direction of the fiery furnace. The news soon spread throughout
the assemblage, and pressing thousands urged their way towards the
place of execution. The fire raged with fury. Fagot after fagot was
thrown in. The flames leaped high above the top of the black walls that
surrounded them. The executioners were strong men of the royal guard.
To these were added a number of others, who, to show the strength of
their patriotism, volunteered their services. Foremost among these were
Scribbo and Shagoth. With what triumphant malignity they gazed on the
bound Hebrews! How complete they considered their own victory!

The word of command was given, and the victims were dragged up the
massive steps that led to the upper edge of the burning pit. In this
the volunteers showed more than an ordinary degree of patriotism. The
Hebrews were laid side by side, ready for their awful doom. The stout
hearts of the soldiers were touched with pity as they gazed on the
noble forms of their victims, of whom they had never heard aught but
good; and they felt loath to perform the awful deed. But not so the
patriotic sons of Skerbood.

“Why not throw the guilty rebels in?” cried Shagoth, with an air of
importance.

“As ye appear to take far more pleasure in this transaction than we do,
we are very willing to bestow the honor of throwing them in on
yourselves. So proceed with your delightful performance,” said an
officer, at the same time giving way, while his companions followed him
some two or three steps downward.

“With all pleasure!” answered Scribbo, while, with fiendish eagerness,
they both turned to perform the foul deed. With a firm grasp they first
laid hold on Azariah, and he was thrown into the midst of the flames.
The same was done to Mishael; and, finally, as Hananiah dropped to the
burning depth below, the ascending flames became doubly fierce; at the
same moment the wind shifted and became strong, and, as sudden as a
flash of lightning, the flames poured their awful vengeance on the
guilty heads of Scribbo and Shagoth. For a moment they whirled in the
midst of God’s avenging scourges, crying loudly for help; but no help
could be administered! In another instant they became bewildered, and
soon their blackened forms fell on the edge of the furnace, where a few
moments before had lain the sons of Judah!

[Illustration: The ascending flames became doubly fierce]

The king had not accompanied the prisoners to the fatal spot, but
continued, in a surly mood, to sit on his elevated throne. He was far
from being satisfied, and he inwardly regretted his severity toward the
best of his officers.

The furnace was a roofless inclosure, twenty feet square, built of very
thick walls in solid masonry. At the height of about twenty-five feet
from the ground, on the inside, there were ponderous bars of iron,
which were made to cross each other at right angles, and which fastened
in the walls, forming the bottom of the furnace into which the victims
were thrown from above. Below, in different parts, were appropriate
places for fagots and light combustibles wherewith to heat the furnace.
To the lower story there were eight doors or openings, two on each
square, through which easy access was obtained to the fireplaces. On
the outside there was but one entrance to the top. This was by means of
massive stone steps. The depth from the edge of the furnace to the
crossbars below was fifteen feet, making the whole height, from the
ground, forty feet. From above also, there were steps to descend into
the bottom. To spectators, on the ground, the victims were not visible
after they had been thrown over the edge.

The king unwillingly turned his eyes towards the fiery furnace, and
from his elevation he could see its interior. He suddenly sprang to his
feet, lifted his hands on high, and exclaimed, in affrightened tone:

“O ye gods, what do I behold! What do I behold, O ye gods!” Then,
turning to his nobles, he exclaimed: “Do I fancy, or is it real? Turn
your eyes on yonder flames! In their midst what behold ye? Speak!”

The nobles tremblingly replied:

“We see men walking unhurt in the midst of the fire, O king!”

“It is even so!” cried the monarch, in deep agitation. “It is _not_ a
delusion! It is a marvelous reality! But did we not cast in three men
bound? And I see four men loose walking in the midst of the fire, and
they have no hurt! And the form of the fourth is like unto a son of the
gods! Arise, let us hasten to the spot!”

The king, attended by a number of his nobles, and surrounded by the
royal guard, was soon on his way towards the furnace. The thronging
masses divided to give way to their sovereign. There were but few there
that knew the cause of the king’s agitation. Those who witnessed his
countenance attributed it to the awful death of Scribbo and Shagoth.

All eyes are fastened on the king. With a hurried pace he ascends the
steps of the furnace. He has nearly reached the top. He stops. Now the
vast assembly eagerly listen for a royal address. But why turns he not
his face toward the throng? Regardless of the swaying masses, he lifts
his hand on high—he speaks! Hark! “Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, ye
servants of the most high God, come forth and come hither!”

At the conclusion of this, which seemed to the multitude an
incomprehensible speech, there were but few present who did not
inwardly pronounce the king to be laboring under a sudden fit of
insanity.

While all is still and solemn, behold, arm in arm, the forms of
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego! A heavenly smile rests on their
countenances. Already they have reached the top, and they stand in the
presence of the wondering thousands. For a moment they cast a smiling
glance on the throng below; then, with that ease of manner which always
characterized them, they approach the king, and make their obeisance,
with as much apparent good feeling as if nothing of an unkind nature
had ever transpired. The king grasps them by the hand, and a mighty
shout of good feeling and gladness resounds from thrice ten thousand
tongues. The king then, turning to the multitude, in a loud voice
exclaims:

“Blessed be the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, who hath sent
his angel and delivered his servants that trusted in him, and have
yielded their bodies that they might not serve nor worship any god
except their own God. Therefore I make a decree, that every people,
nation, and language, which speak anything amiss against the God of
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, shall be cut in pieces; because there
is no other god that can deliver after this sort. And now, by the
command of the king, let that image be taken down, and let it be
carried to the temple of Belus, and there, in a secluded part, let it
remain.”

The assembly was now disbanded and broken up by royal authority. The
masses began to move homeward with deep astonishment. The golden image
was lost sight of, and the miraculous deliverance of the three Hebrews
was the all-absorbing theme. The priests of Belus were utterly
confounded. This mighty demonstration of the power of Jehovah soon
spread throughout the land. The numerous Hebrew captives were treated
with much more kindness; thousands of Chaldeans lost all confidence in
their gods, and learned to pay their homage at the shrine of Jehovah.

Daniel returned from the court of Pharaoh, after having arranged all
things to the satisfaction of his sovereign, in whose estimation he now
stood higher than ever. The three brothers were held in awe and
reverence by all, and the king communed with them freely on all
subjects. Their lives were rendered comfortable, and, according to the
late decree of the king, whosoever dared to speak disrespectfully of
their God did so at his imminent peril.

The priests of Belus kept much within their temple, and whenever they
appeared in public, it was with far greater modesty and much less
arrogance. They were fast losing the confidence of the populace, and
the worship of the gods was greatly disregarded. The great Rab Mag was
universally admired, and his three companions stood above reproach.




CHAPTER XIX.


For some years after that wonderful display of Divine power, as
exhibited before vast thousands on the plains of Dura, Chaldea was
comparatively free from wars.

The king contented himself with adding to the already magnificent
grandeur of the seat of his empire. Thousands were continually employed
in carrying out the schemes developed by his inventive mind, and no
sooner was one mighty enterprise completed, than another project was
brought forward. But the monarch’s vast ambition was not to be
satisfied by the erection of massive walls and costly edifices. The
fire of war and the love of conquest were not yet quenched in his soul.
He had a strong passion for the din of battle.

Tyre was a strong and opulent city on the Mediterranean coast of Syria.
It was one of the most celebrated maritime cities of antiquity, and
remarkable for its power and grandeur. Hitherto, it had never been
subject to any foreign power. It was built by the Sidonians, two
hundred and forty years before the Temple of Jerusalem. For Sidon being
taken by the Philistines of Askelon, many of its inhabitants made their
escape in ships, and founded the city of Tyre; and for this reason we
find it called in Isaiah, the “Daughter of Sidon.” But the daughter
soon surpassed the mother in grandeur, riches, and power.

Toward this proud city of Syria, the King of Babylon, in the
twenty-first year of his reign, led his conquering legions, with full
confidence of a speedy surrender. With a powerful army he encamped
before the city, and soon commenced his attack, which was vigorously
repelled. It became evident to the Chaldeans that the subduing of Tyre
was not the work of a few days, or even a few months. His troops
suffered incredible hardships, so that, according to the Prophet’s
expression, “every head was made bald, and every shoulder was peeled.”
Not until after a protracted siege of thirteen years was the city
conquered, and even then Nebuchadnezzar found nothing to recompense him
for the suffering of his army and the expense of the campaign.

Soon after the surrender of Tyre, the King of Babylon led his forces
into Egypt, where he was much more successful than on the shores of the
Mediterranean. A large number of provinces were brought to subjection,
and thousands of captives were carried to Chaldea and distributed along
the shores of the Euphrates.

The king of Babylon “was at rest in his own house, and flourishing in
his own palace.” The thoughts of the past, present, and future deeply
occupied his mind. The past of his own history had been crowned with
unparalleled success. The present was all that his heart could wish. He
found himself surrounded with glory and magnificence that completely
eclipsed the splendor of all other nations combined. The future—ah, the
future! Who could penetrate its darkness? Could it be possible that the
predictions of Belteshazzar, in regard to the future, were true? Was
the glory of Chaldea to be trampled in the dust? Was the kingly line of
Nebuchadnezzar to be broken? Was not the kingdom at last established on
an immovable foundation? But, had he not, at different times, been
convinced that Belteshazzar had been instructed by the God of heaven in
regard to the future? Tea, truly! But many years had passed since then,
and his greatness had been daily increasing. The king would have gladly
persuaded himself that all was clear in the future, but it was beyond
his power, and under a degree of perplexity he threw himself upon his
couch. A few wandering thoughts, and the king was asleep.


“Another dream of troubles!” cried the king, while his countenance
bespoke alarm. “Do the gods, indeed, delight in my misery? Why must I
be thus tormented? Aye! a dream big with meaning! A vision surcharged
with great events! But who will show me the interpretation thereof?
Where is Belteshazzar! But why may not my Chaldean wise men answer the
purpose? Yea! Let them have the first trial. Why do I thus tremble?
Whom shall I fear? ‘Hew down the tree!’ O, ye gods, how that voice
sounded! ‘Let his portion be with the beasts, in the grass of the
earth!’ What meaneth it? Why do I fear to call Belteshazzar _first?_ Is
it not best at once to know the worst? But let my Chaldeans have the
first trial;” and the king called a young page into his presence.

“Young man, where is thy father?”

“My father is in the adjoining chamber, O king.”

“Call him hither without delay.”

The page hastened from the presence of the king, and presently a
venerable-looking person walked into the apartment, and bowed in
reverence before the king.

“Arioch, it is my desire to see the wise men of Babylon as soon as
possible at this apartment. Go! Haste thee! for the command of the king
is urgent. Let them be native Chaldeans who appear before me at this
time; trouble not Belteshazzar. If I need his services I shall call for
him hereafter.”

The officer, faithful to his charge, was soon on his way to summon the
wise men to appear before the king.

It was not long before a number of the Chaldeans stood in the presence
of the king, ready to learn his will and do his pleasure.

“Are ye able to give me the correct interpretation of a wonderful
dream?” asked the king, in a doubtful tone.

“We surely can, O king!” replied the chief of the wise men; “we derive
our knowledge from the gods, and the interpretation of the dream must
be sure.”

“But what proof do your gods give of their own existence?” asked the
king, looking sternly on the chief.

“Our gods made the world, O king!”

“_Some_ gods, or God, made the world; but why not the God of Israel?
Can you point to any miraculous interference of _your_ gods in the
affairs of mortals? If I have forgotten my dream, can ye, through
_your_ gods, restore it? And if, in case ye fail, I should cast you all
into a fiery furnace, would your gods preserve you unhurt in the midst
of the fire? Answer me!”

“Thy servants,” said the trembling magician, “from their youth up have
been taught to reverence and adore the gods of Chaldea. That there is a
God in Israel, we are ready to admit; and far be it from us to hide
from the king our convictions that this God has given us infallible
proofs of his power. This we do not admit before the populace: but why
should we dissemble before our king? Since the issuing of thy decree on
the plains of Dura, we have never said aught against the God of the
Hebrews. Let thy servants, I pray thee, find favor in thy sight, and
deal not with us harshly!”

“At this time,” said the king, “ye are not required to restore a lost
dream. I have the vision in all its parts, and, if ye are able, ye may
give me the interpretation. If ye are not able, confess your ignorance,
or, by the God of Israel, I will pour my vengeance on every head!”

The king then carefully rehearsed his dream in their presence. When he
had finished he arose, and, approaching the head magician, with a look
that made him tremble, he asked:

“Canst thou or thy comrades give me the interpretation of this
wonderful dream?”

“The king’s dreams are at all times of a very peculiar nature, and far
different from ordinary dreams,” replied the prince of the magicians.
“The king demands honesty at our hands, and may the gods forbid that we
should be otherwise. We are not able to give thee the interpretation of
thy wonderful dream. We fall on thy mercy! Oh, deal not harshly with
thy servants!”

“Thy simple honesty hath at this time saved thy life and the lives of
thy companions! Go your way, and bear in mind that ye are a band of
hypocritical pretenders. I have demanded your service for the last
time!”

The magicians hurried away from the palace, thankful that they had
escaped so well; and nevermore were their services required in the
presence of the king.

“Much as I expected! The vile, deceitful race! The _gods!_ Much _they_
know about the gods. _Have_ we any gods? I have no proof of any god but
the God of the Hebrews. Belteshazzar must at last explain the vision!
Why do I dread the knowledge of it? Is this trembling the result of
fear? The day is damp and cold. ‘Hew down the tree!’ That voice was
solemn! Why must I remain in this suspense? I will know the worst! If
the God of the Hebrews has a quarrel with the King of Babylon, let me
know it! Without delay I’ll send for Belteshazzar.”

The prime minister, always obedient to the demands of his sovereign,
hastened into the presence of Nebuchadnezzar, where he was received
with the most profound respect.

“O Belteshazzar, master of the magicians, because I know that the
spirit of the holy gods is in thee, and no secret troubleth thee, tell
me the visions of my dream that I have seen, and the interpretation
thereof. Thus were the visions of my head on my bed: I saw a tree in
the midst of the earth, and the height thereof was great. The tree
grew, and was strong, and the height thereof reached unto heaven, and
the sight thereof to the end of all the earth; the leaves thereof were
fair, and the fruit thereof much, and in it was meat for all; the
beasts of the field had shadow under it, and the fowls of the heaven
dwelt in the boughs thereof, and all flesh was fed of it. I saw in the
vision of my head upon my bed, and behold a watcher, and a holy one
came down from heaven! He cried aloud, and said thus, ‘Hew down the
tree and cut off his branches, shake off his leaves, and scatter his
fruit; let the beasts get away from under it, and the fowls from his
branches. Nevertheless, leave the stump of his roots in the earth, even
with a band of iron and brass in the tender grass of the field; and let
it be wet with the dew of heaven, and let his portion be with the
beasts in the grass of the earth. Let his heart be changed from man’s,
and let a beast’s heart be given unto him; and let seven times pass
over him. This matter is by the decree of the watchers, and the demand
by the word of the holy ones, to the intent that the living may know
that the Most High ruleth in the kingdom of men, and giveth to
whomsoever he will, and setteth up over it the basest of men.’ This
dream I, King Nebuchadnezzar, have seen. Now thou, O Belteshazzar,
declare the interpretation thereof, forasmuch as all the wise men of my
kingdom are not able to make known unto me the interpretation; but thou
art able, for the spirit of the holy gods is in thee.”

Daniel was astonished, and his thoughts greatly troubled him.

“Belteshazzar,” said the king, “let not the dream or the interpretation
thereof give thee pain or uneasiness.”

“My lord,” said Daniel, “the dream is to them that hate thee, and the
interpretation thereof to thine enemies. The tree that thou sawest,
which grew and was strong, whose height reached into the heavens, and
the sight thereof to all the earth, it is thou, O king, that art grown
and become strong; for thy greatness is grown and reacheth unto heaven,
and thy dominion to the end of the earth. And whereas the king saw a
watcher and a holy one coming down from heaven, and saying, ‘Hew down
the tree and destroy it, yet leave the stump of the roots thereof in
the earth, even with the band of iron and brass in the tender grass of
the field, and let it be wet with the dew of heaven, and let his
portion be with the beasts of the field till seven times pass over
him,’ this is the interpretation, O king, and this is the decree of the
Most High which is come upon my lord the king: that they shall drive
thee from men, and thy dwelling shall be with the beasts of the field,
and they shall make thee eat grass as oxen, and they shall wet thee
with the dew of heaven; and seven times shall pass over thee, till thou
know that the Most High ruleth in the kingdom of men, and giveth to
whomsoever he will. And whereas they commanded to leave the stump of
the tree roots, thy kingdom shall be sure unto thee, after that thou
shalt have known that the heavens do rule. Wherefore, O king, let my
counsel be acceptable to thee, and break off thy sins by righteousness,
and thine iniquities by showing mercy to the poor, if it may be a
lengthening of thy tranquility.”

The king, conscious that the Hebrew was under peculiar inspiration,
bowed in solemn reverence, dismissed him in the most respectful manner,
and then threw himself on his couch, in the deepest agony of mind.

“The fates are against me! What shall I do? Shall I weep like a woman,
and sob like a corrected child? Shall the King of Babylon, the great
conqueror of nations, turn at last to be a coward? Shall the great
sovereign of Chaldea say he is sorry, beg pardon of the gods, and thus
reduce himself to the level of a common subject? Never! Let all the
gods hear it! Never! ‘_Driven from among men!_’ Who shall be able to
drive Nebuchadnezzar? ‘_Eat grass as oxen!_’ O, ye gods, is not that
laughable? And yet I cannot laugh! Let it come! I fear not the gods!
Ah, do I not? I fear not the _gods_, but still I have a dread of that
_one_ God. I destroyed his temple, I plundered his sanctuary, I carried
his vessels to the house of my god, in the land of Shinar. Is he about
to retaliate? I shall see. Shall I humble myself before a strange god?
Shall I now, after having reached the very pinnacle of fame and glory,
dishonor myself in the eyes of my nobles? Nay! Sooner than this, I will
brave the vengeance of all the gods and nobly perish in the unequal
conflict!”


Twelve months passed after the King of Babylon was troubled by his
wonderful dream. His grief was not of long duration, and this period
had been one of more than usual gayety and hilarity in the great city.
The king gave entertainments on a magnificent scale; and, in the midst
of his dazzling splendor, the mournful predictions of Belteshazzar were
well-nigh forgotten. Occasionally they would rush to the monarch’s
mind, but with a desperate effort they would be banished as troublesome
intruders and unwelcome guests.


The day was beautifully clear. The king, about the ninth hour of the
day, walked upon the roof of his high palace. Babylon, in all its
glory, stood before him, its massive walls bidding defiance to all the
surrounding nations. The temple of Belus, with its famous tower, stood
forth in majestic grandeur, together with the hanging gardens,
decorated with all that was beautiful and lovely in nature. The city’s
famous buildings he could count by thousands, and its rich palaces by
tens of thousands. The predictions of Daniel found way to the monarch’s
mind; but they were expelled by a proud spirit and stubborn will. His
soul laughed to scorn the dark prophecy.

“What!” said the proud monarch, “does this look like ‘eating grass like
an ox’? Is not this great Babylon, that I have built for the house of
the kingdom by the might of my power, and for the honor of my majesty?
Who shall—” Hark! A voice speaks from the heavens! “O King
Nebuchadnezzar, to thee it is spoken: The kingdom is departed from
thee, and they shall drive thee from among men; and thy dwelling shall
be with the beasts of the field; they shall make thee eat grass as
oxen; and seven times shall pass over thee, until thou knowest that the
Most High ruleth in the kingdom of men.”

The voice ceased. The king uttered a loud, hysterical laugh, descended
from his palace, and ran into the park, a raving maniac.


Stillness reigns in the home of Joram. No merry voices fall on the ear
of the passer-by. The few that move around the premises tread carefully
and silently, while solemnity settles on each countenance. The voice of
song is hushed; the loud peals of melody are no longer heard; and for
many a day the “Harp of Judah” has remained in its corner, and no
delicate hand has swept its well-tuned strings. Inside of that mansion
to-day you witness not that joy which is wont to pervade it. You
perceive cheeks wet with tears, and bosoms heaving with sighs. The
inmates converse together in whispers, and tread lightly. In an
apartment richly furnished, into which the beams of the sun are not
permitted to enter, we find assembled a large company of relatives and
near friends. It is not an occasion of small import that calls them
thus together. There we find Mathias, Perreeza, and their children. The
amiable Jupheena is there, with her husband and sons and daughters.
Venerable men and women are seen here and there.

But where to-night is Joram? Where is that benign countenance? Hush!
Speak low, tread lightly! Disturb not the last moments of the dying
Israelite! Joram is at the banks of Jordan. Already his feet are
touching the cold waters.

The sick man turns on his pillow and faintly

“Mathias, why comes he not? Shall I not once more see my most excellent
friend?”

“My dear father, he will ere long be here. The messenger is
trustworthy, and will soon return.”

“The journey of life is near its close. The holy hill is in sight. I
pass through the vale of death on my way to the better land. Yonder is
the home of the faithful. Sorrow and mourning shall flee away.”

“He is here! He is here!” cried Jupheena.

“Has he arrived?” asked the sick man, in faint accents.

“Yea, father,” replied Mathias, in soothing tones, “he has arrived.”

“Thanks be to Jehovah!”

Presently, a man of venerable appearance, his hair silvered over with
age, apparently a Chaldean, walked into the apartment. Jupheena was the
first to greet him.

“Jehovah bless my lovely daughter!” whispered the aged man, as the
tears coursed down his furrowed cheeks. For a moment he looked around
upon the company with an earnestness of affection not easily described;
then looking up to heaven, in trembling accents he broke forth:

“Oh, Jehovah, let the smiles of Thy countenance rest on these Thy
chosen ones!”

The venerable man was then gently led by Mathias to the bedside.

A smile passed over the pale countenance of Joram, the fountain of his
tears overflowed; he looked up to the face of his old friend, reached
out his trembling hand, and cried:

“Ah! my good Barzello! thou hast come once more to see thy friend
Joram, before he leaves for the spirit land.”

“If thou art to go first,” replied the old soldier, “we shall not long
be separated; with me, also, the battle of life will soon be closed.”

“I find, Barzello, that my race is well-nigh run! I am fast passing
away. I have a strong impression that this day I shall join the society
of immortals; therefore I thought fit to send for my best friend, to be
with me in my dying moments. I am spared to see a good old age. For the
last forty years my cup of joy has been often filled and running over.
Jehovah has dealt with his servant in great kindness. The iniquities of
my youth are forgiven—I am at peace with the God of Israel.”

The sick man desired to be raised a little higher on his pillow.

“That is better. Now I can see you all. We must soon part; my sun is
fast sinking, and in a few hours Joram will be gone. The chariot will
soon call. I chide you not for your tears, for here on earth I know too
well their value. In that bright world above where Jehovah dwells, and
where angels spread their wings, no tears are found.”

Joram, quite exhausted, closed his eyes, and deep silence for a while
prevailed. He soon revived, and called for Perreeza.

“What can I do for my ever-dear uncle?” whispered Perreeza.

“One more little song, accompanied by the harp of Judah,” said Joram,
with a smile, “and I ask no more.”

“Perreeza greatly fears that it will disturb thee.”

“Nay, my sweet child, thy Uncle Esrom was never yet disturbed by the
sound of melody. Sing to me that little song thy aunt so dearly loved.”

“Oh, my dear uncle,” whispered the weeping Perreeza, “I fear it is
beyond my power to sing. I am filled with weeping. Yet, at thy request,
I will make the effort. Oh, God of my fathers, help me!”

“He will, my child,” faintly answered the old Israelite; “get thy harp
and sing.”

Once again the old harp was brought from its corner. Perreeza wiped
away her tears, and succeeded in conquering her emotions. She took the
familiar instrument in her arms, and sat at a little distance from the
dying man. Joram cast one look on the old harp, smiled, and gently
closed his eyes. Perreeza softly touched the chords and sang:

“Father, send Thy heavenly chariot,
    Call Thy weeping child away;
Long I’ve waited for Thy coming,
    Why, O why, this long delay?
Of this earth my soul is weary,
    Yonder lies the better land;
Fain my soul would leave its prison,
    Glad to join the glorious band.

“Thrice ten thousand happy spirits
    Sing Thy praise in heaven above;
All arrayed in robes of glory.
    Crowned with righteousness and love;
Old companions wait to greet me,
    Smilingly they bid me come.
Father, send Thy heavenly chariot,
    Call Thy weary pilgrim home.

“Earth is fading from my vision;
    Brightness gathers o’er my head:
Thrilling strains from heavenly harpers
    Sound around my dying bed.
Blessed land of saints and angels!
    Here I can no longer stay;
Yonder comes my Father’s chariot;
    Rise, my soul, and haste away!”


The song was ended. The harp was laid aside.

“Did my father enjoy the song?” soothingly inquired Mathias. Joram made
no reply. The “chariot” had arrived, and Joram had departed! As the
last vibrations of the “harp of Judah” died on the ear, his soul was
wafted on angelic pinions, and introduced to the melody around the
throne of God.




CHAPTER XX.


After the insanity of Nebuchadnezzar, Evil-Merodach, his son, acted as
regent. The misfortune of the Chaldean monarch cast a deep gloom over
the vast empire. He fell at the zenith of his popularity, and the
government throughout felt the shock. Evil-Merodach was far from being
a favorite, and among all classes in the nation there seemed to be a
growing dissatisfaction. This feeling would have been immeasurably
greater had it not been for the wisdom and vigilance of Belteshazzar,
his prime minister. Of Daniel’s wisdom the regent had no doubt. From
his father he had learned all the particulars in regard to Daniel’s
interpretation of the dream; and, seeing before his eyes daily a
literal fulfillment of its awful predictions, he could not but hold the
interpreter in much reverence.

Nearly seven years passed without witnessing events of special
importance in the empire. During most of this time Nebuchadnezzar
exhibited all the signs of a maniac. As he showed no disposition to
injure those around him, he was permitted to go at large, within royal
inclosures. His treatment was much according to the direction of
Daniel, who was the only person at the palace of whom the maniac king
appeared to have the least recognition. He carefully shunned the
presence of every one, and the only thing that appeared to give him
satisfaction and check his raving was the permission to be a companion
of his oxen, that quietly fed in the palace park. Here it may be well
to remark that the peculiar feature of the king’s insanity was the
strange conviction that he was an ox; and, under this conviction, he
would endeavor to imitate that animal in all its motions and voices. He
was never confined or bound with chains, but permitted to enjoy himself
as his maniac fancies might dictate. This was not the result of
indifference, but quite the contrary. The king was held in much respect
at the palace, even in his deplorable insanity; and there was much
faith placed in the opinion of Daniel in regard to the king’s final
restoration to his reason and the kingdom. Among many of Daniel’s
Chaldean friends at the court the opinion was becoming prevalent that
the interesting occasion was not far distant.


The afternoon was fair and beautiful. It was about the ninth hour of
the day. Daniel, weary with his arduous duties within, thought fit, in
order to invigorate both his body and mind, to take a walk in the
beautiful groves of the palace park. So he laid his papers aside, and
was soon under the refreshing breezes of the open skies. The scene was
truly delightful. The sun was gradually losing the intensity of its
heat, and slowly sinking toward the western hills. Nature was adorned
in beauty and innocence. The sweet choristers of the trees chanted
their melodious sonnets on the high branches, and the parks rang with
the sound of praise from the feathered tribe. The river rolled
majestically along, while its shores were strewed with the choicest
roses and flowers. On the banks of “proud Euphrates’ stream,” the Rab
Mag sat down and gave freedom to his thoughts.

“His paths are unsearchable, and His ways past finding out! He reigns
in heaven above, and on earth beneath. Jehovah is God alone. By him
kings rule and princes govern. He taketh down one and setteth up
another. O Lord, thou art very great, and highly exalted above all
gods. In thy hands are the deep places of the earth: the strength of
the hills is thine also. I adore thee, O my God! I praise thee, O
Jehovah! From my youth the God of Israel has been my help. He has
brought me through ways I have not known. How terrible is his wrath
toward those who rebel against him! How great his love to all that fear
him! He bringeth down the proud look, and causeth his enemies to be
ashamed. The scepters of kings are broken in pieces. Jehovah is King of
kings! Babylon, with all her glory, shall become a desolation. Her
lofty towers shall fall, her walls shall be destroyed, her palaces
shall become heaps of ruin, and her idol temples shall be no more!”

Such were the meditations of Daniel, when his attention was called to a
rustling noise in the foliage, on his right, a short distance from the
spot on which he sat. He looked, and beheld the uncouth form of the
maniac king slowly approaching him. The sight affected the Hebrew’s
heart. His eyes became moistened with tears. The punishment was just,
he knew; but in the history of that degraded monarch, he could find
many things to admire. In other days he had a heart that throbbed with
kind and warm emotions. Had he not in the main been kind to him and his
three companions? And, in the midst of envy and jealousy, had he not
kept them, foreigners as they were, in the highest offices in the gift
of the government? He had. And Daniel’s heart throbbed with pity as he
beheld the brutish antics of one who was once so powerful and
intelligent. The king gradually approached the spot where Daniel sat,
without observing him, sometimes standing erect, other times running on
all fours, sometimes uttering incoherent expressions, other times
bellowing like an ox.

“God of my fathers,” silently cried Daniel, “let this suffice!
According to thy promise restore the unhappy king to his reason, and
let his courtiers know that there is no God like unto thee.”

By this time the maniac stood close by the side of his courtier, but as
yet he had not observed him.

“Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon!” cried Daniel, with a loud voice.

The maniac was startled, looked up to the face of the minister for a
moment, and cried, in loud accents, “Belteshazzar! Belteshazzar!” and,
as if greatly terrified, ran. He soon stopped and stood at a distance,
with his wild, flashing eyes steadfastly fixed on the form of the Rab
Mag.

Daniel arose, and slowly directed his footsteps towards the spot. He
was glad to find that the king remained stationary. He approached
within a respectful distance of the maniac, uncovered his head, made
his humble obeisance as in days of yore, and cried:

“O king, live forever!”

The king, in silence, continued to gaze on Daniel, with a wild, vacant
stare.

“Jehovah, the God of Israel!” cried Daniel, pointing with his finger to
the skies.

“J-e-h-o-v-a-h!” slowly whispered the king, gazing upward.

The Hebrew now ventured nearer the king, fell upon his knees, and “with
his face toward Jerusalem,” sent his urgent, silent petition to the God
of Israel, in behalf of his unfortunate sovereign. Daniel had not been
long in prayer before the king, with restored reason, fell down by his
side and loudly rejoiced and praised the God of heaven. The set time
had come; the prayer of the man of God had, indeed, prevailed; the lost
was found, the maniac was restored.

The restoration of reason to the king was brought about by the same
miraculous power that had deprived him of it, and it was accomplished
in the same sudden manner. He was not only restored to the right use of
his faculties, but also to a perfect recollection of the past. The
dream, its interpretation, with all subsequent transactions up to the
very day of his insanity, were brought clearly to his mind; but since
that moment all was one dark void. In mercy, not a vestige was
permitted to remain to embitter his after years.

The most important thing that now appeared to occupy the monarch’s mind
was the life and health of his family, and the length of the period of
his insanity.

“Tell me, O Belteshazzar, how long has the king of Babylon remained in
this degraded condition?”

“Seven years of deep calamity, O king, have passed over thy head!”

“Seven years!” cried the king, with a trembling voice, while his tears
were fast falling. “O thou God of heaven, thou art just in all thy
ways! But are the members of my family spared to see the restoration of
the king?”

“They are all spared and in good health, O king, and will be overjoyed
to see thee restored to thy throne.”

“Jehovah is the only God! He ruleth among the armies of the heavens,
and the inhabitants of the earth. Let all nations praise the God of
Israel! But come, Belteshazzar, let us bend our footsteps towards the
palace.”

Daniel threw one of his loose garments over the almost naked form of
the king, side by side, they started towards the palace royal. On their
way thither, they were met by the captain of the guard. The old soldier
was overwhelmed with joy to hear once more the familiar voice of his
beloved king. He fell before him, and would have embraced his feet if
permitted. He begged of the king to remain where he was with
Belteshazzar, and permit him to hasten to the palace to herald the
joyful news, and return with the king’s old guard to escort him home.
The measure struck the king favorably, and Arioch, with a bounding
heart, was on his way. The regent, Evil-Merodach, was first apprised of
the fact, which he received with demonstrations of joy.

The news was quickly learned by hundreds, and the palace rang with
shouts of rejoicing. The regent, with the guard, was soon on the march
for the place where Arioch had left the king. When they reached the
spot, the monarch arose and gently bowed. His son now ran up to his
father, fell on his neck, and they warmly embraced each other. The old
royal guard, as soon as their emotions were partially subsided,
approached as near their sovereign as they could, and, at a given
signal from their captain, they broke forth in one grand shout that
made the forest ring. The king was deeply moved; he endeavored to
speak, but was not able.

The procession was on its way. The king with his son and the prime
minister, was drawn in the royal chariot. Shouts of joy echoed on the
high turrets of the royal mansion as the restored monarch entered once
more through its massive portals, to sit on the throne of his empire.
Heralds were hurried into every part of the city to acquaint officials
with the king’s restoration, and on that night the great metropolis of
Chaldea was brilliantly illuminated, and loud shouts of rejoicing burst
forth from thousands of gladdened hearts.

The king resumed the responsible duties of his government amid the warm
congratulations and the best wishes of his courtiers and subjects. New
life was infused into every department of state, and the metropolis
once more appeared to breathe the breath of former years.

Belteshazzar was now to the king a constant and confiding friend. They
conversed together freely on all points, and no measure was put forth
without the consent and approbation of the Rab Mag.

In regard to the God of Israel no doubt remained longer in the mind of
the king. At last he was wholly saved from idolatry. The process of his
conversion had been a severe one, but in the hands of Jehovah it had
proved successful. His vanity was conquered, his haughtiness slain, the
pride of his heart subdued; he was a meek and lowly worshiper at the
shrine of the God of Israel.

The king was getting well stricken in years, and he was conscious that
he was not long for earth. Therefore, like a wise man, he bestowed much
thought on that world into which he was fast hastening. His worldly
ambition was at an end, he appeared but seldom in public, and was much
given to retirement and meditation. He had at last learned to see the
things of earth in their true light, and the enthusiasm of his younger
friends was viewed with a smile and a sigh. He clearly saw in the
distance the glory of Babylon brought to the dust, and its majestic
halls resounding with the voice of revelry from the sons and daughters
of strangers. Of this the reformed king could not think without painful
emotions; but with resignation he bowed to the Will divine.




CHAPTER XXI.


On the death of Nebuchadnezzar, Evil-Merodach took the throne. Of this
man we have said but little. He acted as regent during his father’s
Insanity. He was a person of a low, groveling mind, and no sooner was
he established on his throne than he began to give signs that the
scepter was in the hands of a profligate tyrant. Contrary to the
request of his dying father, he neglected the weighty matters of the
empire, and plunged into dissipation and gluttonous revelry.

As with the commencement of Nebuchadnezzar’s reign began the real glory
of Chaldea, so with his death the glory departed, and the empire was
soon in a rapid decline. No feature in the character of the new king
was in the least calculated to command either the love or the
admiration of his subjects. He was inwardly cursed by the nation, and
feared only on account of his cruelty. Of Daniel he had some dread, and
over him the Hebrew had some control. He was well convinced, from what
he had seen in his father’s history, that Daniel was not to be
slighted, and that among all the wise men of the realm, there was none
like him. And, moreover, he was well aware that his superior wisdom had
had much to do in elevating the empire to its present high position.
Through the influence of this man of God, the wicked king dealt with
comparative mildness toward the captive Hebrews so numerous within the
realm.

The reign of this monarch was of short duration. Some of his own
relatives, conspiring against him, put an end to his existence; and so
died Evil-Merodach, unwept by the nation, and Nerriglisser, one of the
chief conspirators, reigned in his stead.

The three brothers, since the death of Nebuchadnezzar, had seen best to
retire from public life. In Babylon they were greatly beloved, and
considered as the peculiarly favored of the gods, and over whom no
mortal had control.

Nerriglisser, immediately on his accession to the throne, made great
preparations for war against the Medes, which preparations lasted for
three years. Cyaxeres, king of the Medes, seeing the hostile attitude
of the Babylonians, sent to Persia, imploring the help of his young
nephew, Cyrus, the son of Cambyses, king of Persia, who had married his
sister Mandana. Now Cyrus was beautiful in person, and still more
lovely in the qualities of his mind; was of sweet disposition, full of
good nature and humanity, and always had a great desire to learn and a
noble ardor for glory. He was never afraid of danger nor discouraged by
any hardship or difficulty. He was brought up according to the laws and
customs of the Persians, which were excellent in those days with
respect to education. With the consent of his father, he readily
complied with the wish of his uncle, and, at the head of 30,000
well-trained Persians, he marched into Media and thence to Assyria, to
meet the forces of Nerriglisser, king of Babylon, and the forces of
Crœsus, king of the Lydians. The armies met. The Chaldeans were routed.
Crœsus fled, and Nerriglisser, the king of Babylon, was slain in the
action. His son, Loboros-barchod, succeeded to the throne.

This was a very wicked prince. Being naturally of the most vicious
inclinations, he now indulged them without restraint, as if he had been
invested with sovereign power only to have the privilege of committing
with impunity the most infamous and barbarous actions. He reigned but
five months; his own subjects, conspiring against him, put him to
death, and Belshazzar, the son of Evil-Merodach, reigned in his place.

Since the death of Evil-Merodach, and during the reign of his two
successors, Daniel had retired to private life, and was but little
spoken of at public places. This king, following in the footsteps of
his predecessors, led a life of dissipation and profligacy.

In the meantime, the fame of the Persian prince was spreading far and
wide. His armies proved victorious on every shore; and, to the faithful
Hebrews, who discerned the signs of the times, his conquests were
hailed with inward joy. Cyrus for some years had tarried in Asia Minor,
and had reduced all the nations that inhabited it to subjection, from
the Ægean Sea to the River Euphrates. Then he proceeded to Syria and
Arabia, which he also subdued.

The fortifications of Babylon, since the death of Nebuchadnezzar, had
been strengthened, and now the work of fortifying was carried on with
great vigor. Belshazzar, if from no other motive than fear, gave all
encouragement to this kind of improvement, and during his reign
prodigious works of this nature were completed. He was well aware that
the famous Persian had his eye upon him, and that the besieging of the
city was but a question of time. He therefore made all preparations for
a formidable attack. Provisions of all kinds, from all parts of the
country, were stored within the city in great abundance, and everything
was put in readiness to withstand a protracted siege.

Cyrus, whom divine Providence was to make use of, was mentioned in the
Scriptures _by his name_ one hundred and fifty years before he was born
in these words:

“Thus saith the Lord to his anointed, to Cyrus, whose right hand I have
holden, to subdue nations before him; and I will loose the loins of
kings, to open before him the two-leaved gates; and the gates shall not
be shut. I will go before thee and make the crooked places straight; I
will break in pieces the gates of brass, and cut in sunder the bars of
iron; and I will give thee the treasures of darkness and hidden riches
of secret places; that thou mayest know that I, the Lord, which call
thee by thy name, am the God of Israel. For Jacob my servant’s sake,
and Israel mine elect, I have even called thee by thy name: I have
surnamed thee, though thou hast not known me” (Isa. 45: 1-4).




CHAPTER XXII.


The army of Cyrus had already reached the capital of Chaldea. The vast
plain before the city swarmed with moving thousands of Medes and
Persians. At this time no warriors were finer in appearance than the
battlemen of the Persian prince. Their discipline had reached to an
almost inconceivable degree of perfection. The wishes and desires of
their great commander had become their law; and each one vied with the
other in rendering obedience to his orders. Their fame had spread
throughout lower Asia, and through many parts of Assyria.

But the Babylonians thought themselves so well prepared for this
emergency that the numerous legions of Cyrus failed to alarm them.
Their walls they considered proof against any attack, and they had a
sufficient amount of provision in the city for twenty years. They
laughed to scorn the demand of the Persians, and loudly ridiculed them
from the city walls. Belshazzar and his counselors, considering
themselves secure, gave way to their depraved appetites. The palace was
one scene of debauchery and revelry by day and by night.

The Persian general soon saw that an assault on such formidable
defenses would be useless. A project was conceived in his mind. He made
the inhabitants believe that he intended to reduce the city by famine.
To this end he caused a line of circumvallation to be drawn quite
around the city with a large and deep ditch; and, that his troops might
not be over-fatigued, he divided his army into twelve bodies, and
assigned to each of them its month of guarding the trenches. The great
ditch was completed, but the reveling Babylonians little thought of its
real design.

Belshazzar, the king, made a feast to a thousand of his lords, and
drank wine before the thousand. This feast was one of great splendor.
The most spacious and magnificent rooms in the richest city in the
world were crowded with rank and beauty. Learning, aristocracy and
royalty were there. Precious stones and costly perfumery filled the
salon with dazzling luster and sweet fragrance. Wit sparkled with the
sparkling of the cups, and reason flowed with the flowing of the wine.
They drank toasts of enthusiastic patriotism; they sang songs of
unbounded loyalty, and shouted defiance to every foe. Strains of melody
poured forth from an hundred instruments, and hilarity and excessive
mirth beamed forth from every countenance. The high praises of the gods
of Chaldea, with rapturous shouts in honor to their king, mingled
together and broke forth from a thousand tongues. The besieging army
and its commander, together with the God of the Hebrews, were made the
subjects of their keenest sarcasm.

This feast was given in honor of Belshazzar’s birth; and we may easily
judge that flattery without measure was poured into his willing ear. On
this occasion, from the very nature of the festival, much was expected
from the monarch himself, and it was very evident that he was fully
determined that in this they should not be disappointed. He spoke in
this vein:

“All hail, brave Babylonians! Welcome! Thrice welcome to the presence
of your king! Before me on this night I behold the pride and glory of
Babylon. Here are my nobles who have at all times distinguished
themselves by their valor and great bravery. Let us banish gloom, and
let our hearts overflow with mirth! We may well congratulate ourselves
on the perfect safety of Babylon. Our walls are impregnable and our
possessions are abundant. We laugh to scorn the silly movements of the
Persians that parade before the city. Dark predictions there are, I
know, in regard to the future of Chaldea, but these Hebrew delusions
have well-nigh vanished. I am sorry to confess that my royal grandsire
gave too much countenance to these groundless delusions, in the
preferment of the Hebrew Belteshazzar with his three companions to high
offices within the province of Babylon. This, my lords, was a great
mistake of the past, for which we have already too dearly paid. Since I
came to the throne, this intermeddling of foreigners with the affairs
of the nation has received no countenance; and happy am I to know that
to-day all offices under the government are entrusted to none but
native Chaldeans. In this I do not wish to cast a shade on the memories
of the illustrious dead, for truly no monarch ever distinguished
himself more than my lamented grandfather. The trophies of his
victories are to-day visible throughout the empire. To him, indeed, the
gods of Chaldea were propitious, and unmistakable proof they gave of
their superiority to the gods of other nations. We have heard much of
the renowned God of the Hebrews! But, under the protection of our own,
we bid defiance to all other gods! Who is the God of Israel that I
should fear him? Did not my grandfather, under the guidance of the gods
of Chaldea, enter into his territory, destroy his city and burn his
temple? Why did he not then vindicate his power and glory? Why permit
the vessels of his temple to be carried into Babylon, and there
deposited in the temple of Belus? Ah, my lords, those vessels were
worthy of a more trusty god! They are beautiful to behold, and would
well become an occasion like the present. Surely this is well thought!
Let the vessels of the temple of the God of Israel be brought hither,
and from them let us drink wine in honor of the gods of Chaldea! Bring
them hither in haste! My thirst increases with the thought! All praise
to our matchless gods! Again I say, let us banish gloom, and let us be
filled with mirth! But here, indeed, come the temple vessels of the God
of Israel! Bring them hither. Look ye here, Babylonians! Saw ye ever
anything more beautiful? Such fine specimens of art as these must be
rendered serviceable in the employ of more worthy gods! Let them be
filled with wine! Let us drink to the gods of the empire; and, if there
is a God in Israel, let him come to the rescue! We defy his power,
Chaldeans! These Hebrews among us must be limited in their privileges.
The worship of their imaginary God, if at all permitted, must be on a
more private scale. They are corrupting in their influence, and their
liberties must be restricted. This I have accomplished in a measure,
and, by the gods, I swear that in this my pleasure must be realized to
the full! These foreigners have too long lived in ease, and many of
them have been unwisely elevated to fill the most responsible offices
in the gift of the government, to the exclusion of Chaldeans and more
worthy men. Of this We shall hear no more complaint. I have cut short
the work, and not one Hebrew remains in office within the empire.
Babylonians, in this has not the king met your wishes? Your joyous
looks and merry countenances answer ‘yea!’ Let this then be our motto,
‘Chaldeans to rule Chaldea!’ Drink! Drink freely! Drink to the gods! Is
there a God in Israel? Let him come and claim the vessels of his
sanctuary! Oh, the wine tastes delicious from these thy golden goblets!
Oh, thou God of Israel! Ha! ha! ha! More wine! Let us rejoice and be
glad, and drink defiance to all gods save the gods of Chaldea! Who
shall Belshazzar fear? What god can alarm the king of Bab—”

The vessel fell from the monarch’s hand! Paleness gathered on his brow!
A sudden trembling shook his whole frame! A cry of terror broke from
his lips!

On the wall, over against the candlestick, there appeared the fingers
of a man’s hand, which wrote on the plaster. This was the mysterious
sight that gave terror to the king and alarmed the merry throng.

“Haste ye!” cried the terrified king, “and bring hither my wise men,
and let them give me the signification of the writing. Go in haste!”

Messengers were speedily hurried to summon the magicians and wise men
into the presence of the monarch, and within a short period the whole
“college” stood before the agitated sovereign in the midst of the
banqueting hall.

“Look ye yonder!” said the king, with a trembling voice, pointing to
the mysterious writing. “Whosoever shall read this writing, and show me
the interpretation thereof, shall be clothed with scarlet and have a
chain of gold about his neck, and shall be the third ruler in the
kingdom.”

The wise men gazed in silent astonishment on the writing, cast solemn
glances at one another, and at last frankly confessed that it was
written in a language with which they had no acquaintance—peradventure,
understood only by the gods.

“What shall I do?” cried the king, in deep agony. “I fear some awful
calamity is about to befall me! A curse upon you pretenders’ Depart
from my presence! O ye gods, what shall I do?”

The great fear of the king had been made known to the queen-mother, the
famous Nitocris, wife of Nebuchadnezzar. She hastened to the banquet
chamber, where she found all in the greatest consternation, especially
the king.

“O king, live forever!” cried the queen-mother. “Let not thy thoughts
trouble thee, nor thy countenance thus be changed in the presence of
thy mighty lords, lest hereafter they despise thy fear. There is a man
in thy kingdom in whom is the spirit of the holy gods; and, in the days
of thy grandfather, light and understanding and wisdom, like the wisdom
of the gods, were found in him, whom the king, Nebuchadnezzar, thy
grandfather—I say _the king himself_—made master of the magicians,
astrologers and soothsayers; and this was a sure sign of his superior
wisdom. This great man is not found among _thy_ nobles. Since in thy
great wisdom thou didst see fit to deprive all Hebrews of office, this
mighty Daniel, whom thy grandfather called Belteshazzar, has been seen
but seldom. But be it known to thee, O king, that he is not utterly
forgotten.”

Without delay messengers were sent to the house of Daniel, and in a
short time a venerable person, with his hair silvered over, slowly
marched into the banqueting hall, and, without the least embarrassment,
stood in the presence of the pale and trembling Belshazzar.

“Art thou that Daniel who art of the captivity of Judah, whom the king
my grandfather brought from Judah? I have even heard of thee that the
spirit of the gods is in thee, and that light and understanding and
excellence are found in thee. And now the wise men, the astrologers,
have been brought in before me, that they should read this writing and
make known unto me the interpretation thereof; but they could not show
the interpretation of the thing. Now, if thou canst read the writing
and make known to me the interpretation thereof, thou shalt be clothed
with scarlet, and have a chain of gold about thy neck, and shall be the
third ruler in the kingdom.”

Then Daniel answered and said before the king:

“Let thy gifts be to thyself, and give thy rewards to another. Yet I
will read the writing to the king, and make known unto him the
interpretation.

“O thou king! the Most High God gave Nebuchadnezzar a kingdom, and
majesty, and glory, and honor. All people, nations and languages
trembled and feared before him. Whom he would he slew, and whom he
would he kept alive; whom he would he set up, and whom he would he put
down. But when his heart was lifted up, and his mind hardened in pride,
he was deposed from his kingly throne and his glory was taken from him;
and he was driven from the sons of men, and his heart was made like the
beasts, and his dwelling was with the wild asses. They fed him with
grass like oxen, and his body was wet with the dew of heaven, till he
knew that the Most High God ruleth in the kingdom of men, and that he
appointeth over it whomsoever he will. And thou, O Belshazzar, hast not
humbled thy heart, though thou knewest all this, but hast lifted up
thyself against the Lord of heaven; and they have brought the vessels
of his house before thee, and thou and thy lords, thy wives and thy
concubines, have drunk wine in them; and thou hast praised the gods of
silver and gold, of brass, iron, wood and stone, which see not, nor
bear, nor know; and the God in whose hand thy breath is, thou hast not
glorified.

“This is the interpretation of the thing. MENE—God hath numbered thy
kingdom and finished it; TEKEL—thou art weighed in the balances and
found wanting; PERES—thy kingdom is divided and given to the Medes and
Persians.”

Then commanded Belshazzar, and they clothed Daniel with scarlet, and
put a chain of gold about his neck, and made a proclamation concerning
him, that he should be the third ruler in the kingdom.


As soon as Cyrus saw that the ditches, which they had long worked upon,
were finished, he began to plan for the execution of his vast design,
which as yet he had communicated to no one. He was informed that, in
the city, on a certain day, a great festival was to be celebrated, and
that the Babylonians, on occasions of that solemnity, were accustomed
to pass the whole night in drunkenness and debauchery. Of this impious
feast we have already spoken. Thus Providence furnished him with as fit
an opportunity as he could desire. He therefore posted a part of his
troops on that side where the river entered the city, and another part
on that side where it went out, and commanded them to enter the city
that very night by marching along the channel of the river as soon as
ever they found it fordable. Having given all necessary orders, he
exhorted his officers to follow him—that he was under the direction of
the gods. In the evening he gave orders to open the great receptacles,
or ditches, on both sides of the town, above and below, that the waters
of the rivers might run into them. By this means the Euphrates was
quickly emptied and its channel became dry. Then the two bodies of
troops, according to their orders, went into the channels, the one
commanded by Gobryas and the other by Gadates, and advanced toward each
other without meeting any impediment.

Thus did these two bodies of troops penetrate into the very heart of
the city without opposition. According to agreement, they met together
at the royal palace, surprised the guard, and slew them. The company,
hearing the tumult without, opened the door. The Persian soldiers
rushed in. They were met by the king with his sword in hand. He was
slain, and hundreds of his drunken associates shared the same fate.
Thus terminated the great banquet of Belshazzar, where the God of
heaven was wickedly blasphemed; and thus terminated the Babylonian
empire, after a duration of two hundred and ten years from the first of
Nabonassar’s reign, who was the founder thereof.




CHAPTER XXIII.


Immediately after the taking of Babylon, Cyrus ordered a day of public
thanksgiving to the gods, for their wonderful favors and their kind
interposition; and then, having assembled his principal officers, he
publicly applauded their courage and prudence, their zeal and
attachment to his person, and distributed rewards to his whole army. He
also reviewed his forces, which were in a spirited condition. He found
they consisted of 120,000 horse, 2,000 chariots armed with scythes, and
600,000 foot.

When Cyrus judged he had sufficiently regulated his affairs at Babylon,
he thought proper to take a journey into Persia. On his way thither he
went through Media, to visit Darius, to whom he carried many presents,
telling him at the same time that he would find a noble palace at
Babylon ready prepared for him whenever he should please to go thither.
After a brief stay in Persia, he returned to Babylon, accompanied by
his uncle, where they counseled together a scheme of government for the
whole empire.

The fame of Daniel, as one who had served under so many kings in
Babylon, and also as one to whom the gods had imparted a miraculous
degree of wisdom, was spread throughout the city and provinces of
Babylon; and, since his appearance before the king as the interpreter
of the mysterious handwriting on the night of the fatal banquet, his
name was held in great reverence by all the dignitaries of that city.

In a magnificent apartment of the king’s palace in the conquered city
of Babylon, sat together, in earnest conversation, Darius the Mede, and
Cyrus the hero of Persia.

“Thou well sayest that he is neither a Mede nor a Persian,” said Cyrus,
“neither is he a Chaldean. He was brought from the land of Judah, a
captive, about the commencement of Nebuchadnezzar’s reign. From what I
can learn of his history, he was soon placed under tutors, and
outstripped all his companions and became a great favorite of the,
king. He was soon elevated to posts of honor, and, with the exception
of short intervals, he has been the first officer in the kingdom for
more than threescore years. He receives wonderful revelations from the
gods, and the fall of Babylon came to pass according to his
predictions. Now, uncle, to me it appears far more important to secure
the services of an individual, be he even a foreigner, whose head is
filled with wisdom and his heart with charity, than to place far
inferior personages to fill important offices because they are Medes or
Persians. We have many wise men among us, but among this people, whose
manners and customs are so different from our own, I fear we have none
that can rule with that profound wisdom which has always marked the
course of this Hebrew sage. I consider him by far the safest man to
appoint as the chief president.”

“In this most surely the illustrious son of my brother shall be
gratified,” replied the Mede. “But why may we not have a short
interview with this wonderful man, who appears to have more the
attributes of a god than a mortal? Wouldst thou not be pleased to see
him?”

“Well pleased.”

“Then I shall send for him without delay.”

A messenger was, therefore, hurried to the house of the ex-Prime
Minister of the Babylonian empire.

The Hebrew soon made his appearance, and such was the calm dignity of
his bearing, as he slowly walked into the presence of his superiors,
that both the Mede and the Persian unconsciously found themselves on
their feet to receive him.

“Our distinguished friend has readily complied with our request,” said
the Persian, beckoning Daniel to a seat on his right.

“Throughout the days of my pilgrimage it has been my great pleasure to
render strict obedience to the will of my superiors in all things
consistent with the law of my God.”

“Then thou considerest the law of thy God as having stronger claims on
thy obedience than the laws of thy king?”

“The law of Jehovah is supreme! By that law my life has been shaped;
and now, at its close, it is surely my joy and consolation.”

“Precious sentiments from a noble Hebrew!” cried Cyrus, with feeling.
“And how long hast thou been a resident of Babylon?”

“Threescore and six years have passed away since thy servant bade adieu
to his native hills in the land of Judah, and came to this great city
of Babylon. The companions of my early days have mostly passed away,
and soon thy servant shall follow them.”

“I trust that such a life shall be precious in the sight of the gods
for many years to come. Such is thy deep experience in the affairs of
state, that we have purposed in our hearts to appoint thee first
president of the provinces. Is Belteshazzar willing to serve the king
in this capacity, and shed honor upon the joint reign of the Medes and
Persians?”

“My life, for the short period I may tarry among mortals, if ye
consider me worthy, will be consecrated to your service.”

“Then, O Belteshazzar,” answered Darius, “thou art, by our united power
and authority, appointed chief of the presidents. May the gods be thy
support!”

Soon after his appointment, Daniel, in humble reverence, left the
presence of the royal dignitaries, and slowly directed his footsteps
towards his own mansion.

“The praises of this man have not yet reached his real merits, Cyrus,”
said Darius. “Thou well sayest. There is a striking peculiarity in all
his movements that convinces the beholder that he is one among ten
thousand.”

“Thy stay in Babylon must be of short duration. Thou art soon off to
the wars. I also must soon return to Media; therefore, this appointing
of the presidents must be attended to without delay. On thee, I pray,
let this business rest; and whomsoever, in thy wisdom, thou shalt
appoint, be assured the appointment will receive my cordial
approbation.”

“In this I will strive to do the will of my kind uncle. I will call
together my council, and the thing shall soon be accomplished.”


In the mansion of one of the presidents, in a delightful part of the
city of Babylon, sat together two men in deep and earnest conversation.
One of these, whose name was Kinggron, was the owner of the superb
mansion. The other, whose name was Fraggood, was his fellow president,
under Daniel. On some point of great moment they appeared to be well
agreed; while envy, mingled with anger, rested on each countenance.

“The king will soon be again in Babylon,” said Kinggron, “and there is
no time to be lost. Whatever measure we resort to in order to replace
this old Hebrew, whose eye is upon us continually, must be attended to
without delay, for the king’s stay among us will be of short duration.”

“As soon as our companions come, I trust we shall be able to contrive
some measure that will remove this ever-watchful old Israelite far out
of our way. Does it not ill become the wisdom of Cyrus the Persian to
place over our heads this exacting old stranger, who is neither a
Persian, Mede, nor even a Chaldean, but a _Hebrew_, brought to the
country as a captive of war—and behold, surely he stands next to the
king! One year has gone. We have borne our grief in painful silence.
The time for action has arrived—he _must_ be removed. Our combined
wisdom must be brought to bear on this one point, and no rest must we
find until it is fully accomplished.”

The door opened and four persons silently walked into the apartment.
They were of middle age, and appeared to be on familiar terms with the
two presidents. They were all Medes, and appeared to be princes of the
provinces, and it was very soon evident that with the two superior
officers they were favorites.

“Let it be well understood,” said Kinggron, “that this Daniel is
greatly in the favor of Cyrus; and, moreover, that he stands high in
the estimation of the king. Of Cyrus we have no present fear, seeing he
is out in the wars. This is well, for before _him_ we would not dare to
complain. The king is in possession of far less power of discernment
than he, and with him, I trust, we must be successful.”

“But,” answered Bimbokrak, “we must have some cause—something specific
to offer as a ground of complaint against him before the king, or the
movement will utterly fail, and prove disastrous to ourselves.”

“Thou art right, my good friend,” answered the president, “perfectly
right. There must be a ground of complaint, and I trust we shall be
able to find it. We _must_ find it!”




CHAPTER XXV.


Again the great city of Babylon was all excitement, and expectation was
raised to its highest pitch. The long-expected day had arrived, and the
grand entry of Darius the Mede was momentarily expected by an
enthusiastic and curious throng. By the Babylonians generally, their
new king was regarded in a favorable light. Such had been the
profligacy and tyranny of their late kings, that any change was hailed
with gratitude; and, moreover, the mildness of Darius toward them on a
previous visitation, when accompanied by Cyrus the Persian, had won
their regard and affection. Thousands of the people had gone without
the walls to meet him, and tens of thousands were seen thronging the
public grounds in the vicinity of the royal palaces. At last the
monarch’s triumphal train appeared in the distance, the shining spears
and bright armor of his guard glittering in the clear sunbeams. Nearer
and nearer they approached, and entered the city; and, amid
enthusiastic shouts, the monarch was escorted to the royal palace.

Darius the Mede was far from being a man of stern moral worth and true
decision of character. He was rather weak in mind and easily flattered.
Nevertheless he was a man of tender feelings, and cruelty was no part
of his nature. He was greatly elated with the warm reception he had
received at the hands of the Babylonians, and now or never was the time
for the foul conspirators to try their power with the king.

The two presidents, accompanied by the four princes, soon made their
appearance in the presence of the king.

“Welcome into the presence of your sovereign!” said the king in a
pleasant mood. “Let the full desires of your hearts be made known to
the king, and with pleasure he will grant your every wish.”

“O king, live forever!” replied President Fraggood. “Thou art a mighty
ruler. Thy dominions are unbounded. Thy rich possessions are found in
every clime. The name of Darius falls on the ears of the kings of the
earth, and they tremble. In thy wisdom thou hast set over the provinces
of Babylon an hundred and twenty princes, and over these thou hast set
three presidents, the first of whom is Daniel, a man mighty in wisdom
and understanding. Now, O king, thou knowest that these provinces are
united, and may the gods forbid that anything should ever transpire to
dissolve this glorious union. Thy servants have some reason to fear
that among some of the inhabitants of these _northern_ provinces there
is a disposition to think that the commands of the king are not
absolute, and that in certain cases they may be disregarded. Far be it
from us to think that this feeling prevails to any serious extent. We
are happy to know that, in all the _southern_ provinces, they are
abundantly loyal; and, indeed, in the northern provinces this
rebellious and dangerous disposition is confined to a few mischievous
fanatics; but it is a poisonous plant, O king, that must be destroyed
in the bud. If such looseness is permitted to go unpunished, how long
will it be before our beloved union is shivered to ruined fragments? We
have had this subject under our most serious consideration. We have
thought over it with throbbing hearts. Some measure must be resorted to
that will impress the inhabitants with the matchless greatness of our
king, and convince them that, when he commands, he intends to be
obeyed. Therefore, O king, with nothing but the good of the nation at
heart, thy servants the three presidents, with all the princes, have
enacted this law, and it is now presented to thee for thy royal
signature and seal:

“‘It is hereby enacted, _for the safety of the Union:_ Let no person
offer any prayer or petition to any god or man, except the king, for
the space of thirty days; and whosoever shall violate this decree shall
be taken and thrown into the den of lions.
    “‘Given under my hand, at the city of Babylon, on this twelfth day
    of the ninth month, and sealed with the seal of the Medes and
    Persians, which changeth not.’”


“In this, surely, there is nothing unreasonable,” said the easily
flattered king. “My wise presidents and faithful princes could never
propose and advocate a measure that was not highly beneficial in its
results. That which has any tendency to weaken the glorious bond of our
union must be put down, and the safety of the united provinces must be
placed on an immovable basis. If, in your superior wisdom, ye have
judged that this law is called for, may the gods forbid that I should
refuse to give it countenance.”

“The measure shall be hailed with universal joy, O king, among all thy
loyal subjects, and let those who dare disobey suffer the consequence!
From this day the name of Darius the Mede shall be a terror to every
evil doer, and all his enemies shall be put to shame.”

“Let the king have the writing.”

The writing was delivered over to the monarch by a hand that trembled
with excitement.

“It is surely a peculiar enactment,” said the king, as he took the pen
in his hand. “I fail to see its strong points, but at this stage of my
reign I am not prepared to oppose a measure that is the offspring of
the combined wisdom of the realm. If my Persian nephew were present, I
would deem it advisable to have his opinion; but, as he is out in the
wars, I cannot avail myself of that.”

So the king’s name was given to the fatal parchment; and, moreover, it
was sealed with the seal of the Medes and Persians.

“The thing is done,” said Darius. “Is there anything more that ye wish
to communicate to the king?”

“Thy goodness is ever abundant, O king,” answered Fraggood. “This is
all that we have to present this day. Will the king accept our united
gratitude for the kind manner in which we have been received into the
presence of the mightiest monarch that ever swayed a scepter? Long live
our matchless king! We shall no longer trespass on thy time. We return
to our respective stations, to carry out the pleasure of our king.”

The conspirators, with bounding hearts, made their way in haste and
entered the house of President Fraggood, and there gave vent to the
fiendish joy of their malicious hearts at the success of their
nefarious scheme.

“Now we must be on the watch,” said Kinggron, “or he will, after all,
escape. Let three of our number be appointed, and let them be called
‘The Union Safety Committee,’ whose business it shall be to mark well
the movements of the old Hebrew, and prepare, for all emergencies,
ready answers for the ears of the king.”

“Thou hast well thought,” answered Fraggood, “for I apprehend that as
yet we are not quite out of danger. I fear this measure will be
repulsive to the king, when he thinketh of it in all its parts; and
more repulsive still, when he finds the first transgressor to be none
other than the first president. Let us be prepared for the mighty
contest! This is a movement that will justify desperate measures.
Things must be resorted to that, in other matters, would be justly
condemned. The object in view must justify our every step. Our words
have gone forth to the king that this law is the fruit of the calm
deliberations of _all_ the presidents. Now, in regard to the future of
this matter, there must be no cowardly apologies, no lame explanations,
no faltering embarrassment, nor weak equivocation. Let us still
unitedly adhere to every statement that we have made. And shall the
testimony of one be strong enough to impeach the testimony of six men?
Nay, verily! Let us, therefore, be firm, and we shall not only succeed
in condemning the old Israelite, but also prove him a liar. Are we now
ready to swear solemnly, in the presence of the gods, that our
testimonies, if called before the king, shall say that this Daniel was
concerned in framing this law?”

“All ready, most noble Fraggood!” was the united reply.

“Then we swear!”

The next day, by order of the presidents, the streets of Babylon rang
with the proclamation of the new law. Heralds were sent to and fro,
who, at the top of their voices, sounded the peculiar edict throughout
every thoroughfare. At first it was thought by many to be a mischievous
hoax, but it was soon found to be stern reality. Nothing could exceed
the astonishment and consternation produced among the inhabitants when
they first heard it; it was so unlike anything they could expect from
the mild Mede. Not only among the Hebrews, who were numerous in the
city, was this singular law looked upon as monstrous in its nature, but
also by the great body of Chaldeans, many of whom were warmly attached
to the worship of their gods. The shortness of the period in which it
was to be enforced, however, served to quiet them in a manner. Thirty
days would soon be over, and then they would closely watch the future
movements of their new king.

The “Union Safety Committee” acted well their part. Daniel, perfectly
acquainted with all their movements, gave himself no uneasiness. With
full confidence in his God, he rolled his burden upon Jehovah, and felt
the perfect assurance that all would be well.

To Fraggood and Kinggron the devotional hours of the first president
were well known; and at such hour it was necessary that they should,
under some pretense, find their way into his worshiping chamber. To
find such an excuse was but the work of a moment to those so expert in
mischievous plots as the two presidents.

Now when Daniel knew that the writing was signed, when the loud voices
of the heralds proclaiming the peculiar enactment fell on his ears, he
laid by his parchment, closed his eyes for a moment in silent devotion,
then rose and calmly entered that little chamber, where he had so
often, for so many years, bowed before the God of his fathers. There he
had sat for many hours in silent meditation on the length of Judah’s
captivity, and cried, “How long, O Lord, how long!” A dear spot to the
man of God that little chamber had been for many a long year.

“From the days of my childhood I have prayed to the God of my fathers,”
soliloquized Daniel. “I well remember when, by the side of my mother,
while I was yet but a little child, I bowed the knee in humble
adoration of my God. From that day to this, throughout my long, weary
pilgrimage, I have always prayed and offered my petitions to the Most
High. And am I now to be frightened in my old age from the worship of
my God through the fear of the lions? Is this the strength of Daniel’s
faith? I laugh to scorn their blasphemous law!”

Soon after Daniel had left for his devotional exercises, the members of
the “Union Safety Committee” (Fraggood, Bimbokrak and Scramgee) were
seen on their way from the house of Kinggron, moving in the direction
of the house of the first president.

“If we find him in prayer before his God,” said Fraggood, “we shall not
be called upon to offer any excuse for our calling. We will ask
forgiveness for the intrusion and retire. But if we find him otherwise,
our object seems reasonable indeed.”

“May the gods grant that we need not speak of our object,” said
Bimbokrak.

By this time the “committee” had arrived at the door of the mansion.
Fraggood led the way into the office; but the first president was not
there.

“Hark ye!” whispered Fraggood. “Hark!”

“It is the voice of prayer!” said Bimbokrak.

“Silently! Silently!” answered Scramgee, “or he will surely hear us.”

“Follow me!” said the president. “Tread lightly!”

The “committee,” with beating hearts and light footsteps, sought the
chamber whence came the sound of prayer. They soon found the spot; the
door was open, and the man of God, on his bended knees, was engaged in
solemn devotion.

They gazed upon him for a moment; he saw them not, for his countenance
was turned in another direction. Fraggood did not wish to return
without acquainting Daniel of his presence, but still he wished to
escape an interview. Therefore, in a voice that the first president
would surely hear, he said:

“We beg pardon for this intrusion. Let us not disturb our most
excellent friend whilst he _makes his petitions_ to his God.”

The Hebrew prophet gently turned his head, but he saw only the receding
forms of the members of the “committee” as they hastened to the street
below, and so he continued his supplications to the God of his fathers.

The “Union Safety” men were soon back again at the house of President
Kinggron, and great was the demonstration of joy at the promised
success of their malignant plot.

The next morning witnessed again the guilty form of the leading
conspirator, with his two accomplices, on the way towards the king’s
palace. They were admitted, and were soon in the presence of their
king.

“And what good thing do the presidents desire of the king?” asked
Darius, in rather a surly mood, for, the more he thought of their new
statute, the more repulsive it appeared in his sight.

“O king, live forever!” replied Fraggood, with a deceitful smile on his
countenance. “Hast thou not signed a decree that every man that asketh
a petition of any god or man for thirty days, save of thee, O king,
shall be cast into the den of lions?”

“The thing is true,” answered the king, “according to the laws of the
Medes and Persians, which altereth not.”

“Then it is made our painful duty to inform thee that Daniel, which is
of the children of the captivity of Judah, regardeth not thee, O king,
nor the decree that thou has signed; but maketh his petition three
times a day.”

“_Daniel!_” replied the king. “I know of no Daniel but my worthy first
president, whom ye say assisted in making this law.”

“This same Daniel, O king, thy first president, is the guilty one!”
answered Fraggood. “After having exerted his influence with thy
servants to make the law, he is now the first of all to transgress. In
this he hath but sought an opportunity to show thee, O king, how
utterly he disregardeth all thy wise commandments.”

“What!” said the king, suddenly rising to his feet. “_Daniel_, the
first president in the kingdom? _Daniel_, noted for his wisdom and
prudence? Impossible! Ye have been wrongly informed! Beware how ye thus
accuse the best man in Babylon!”

“Thy servants wonder not at thy astonishment, O king! If we had not
been eye-witnesses to the thing, we could have in no wise believed it;
but the eyes and ears of thy servants are witnesses against him. He
offers his petitions, and tramples upon the authority of our king.”

“_His petitions!_” cried the excited king. “And to whom does he offer
his petitions?”

“He daily offers his petitions to his God, O king!”

“_His God!_ Wise man! Who can— But— If— Say ye not that Daniel was
concerned in making this law?”

“Yea, verily, O king! May the gods forbid that we should utter aught
but truth in the presence of King Darius!”

“To me it seemeth a strange thing that Daniel, the worshiper of the God
of Israel, should frame a law that bears oppressively on himself and
upon thousands of his nation within the realm. And it seemeth still
more strange to the king that he should be the first transgressor!
Already have I sorrow of heart because I signed the decree; but the
thing is done, and my name must go down to posterity as the name of a
fool. There is a mystery connected with this affair that to me, as yet,
is inexplicable. If by any means I find that I have been wrongly dealt
with, by all the gods I swear I will pour vengeance on the guilty
heads!”

“If thou wilt permit the four princes to testify, they will say, with
thy servant, that this Daniel was the chief mover in the formation of
this law.”

“At present I have no desire to hear from any of the princes. But to
think of casting _Daniel_ into the den of lions is mournful beyond
description—it must not be done!”

“So say we all, O king, when we consult our feelings; but the decree is
signed according to the law of the Medes and Persians, and cannot be
altered. The honor of the king depends upon the faithful execution of
all his laws; and if in this one point thou failest and let the guilty
one escape, thy subjects will laugh at thy timidity, and lawlessness
will prevail throughout our borders.”

“Of this we may speak hereafter. I must see the first president and
learn more of this matter ere I take another step in this unhappy
affair.”

On the departure of the conspirators, the king immediately sent for
Daniel, and soon the Hebrew prophet stood in the presence of Darius the
Mede. On his countenance rested that same calm smile. The king gazed
upon him for a moment, and could not but notice the contrast between
the serene, noble countenance of the Hebrew prophet, and the uneasy,
agitated visage of President Fraggood.

“Thou standest before the king, O Daniel, accused as an evil doer! What
sayest thou for thyself?”

“What is the nature of thy servant’s offense, O king?”

“Thou art accused of violating a law, chiefly of thine own making, by
offering thy petitions to thy God. To the king it seemeth strange
indeed that he who was the first mover in the formation of a new law,
should be the first one to transgress it. What meaneth all this?”

“I readily perceive by the words of thy mouth, O king, that thou hast
been greatly deceived in this matter. Thy servant had nothing to do in
forming a law whose every feature is repulsive to his soul and an
insult to the God he worshipeth. This law came from the enemies of thy
servant, for the purpose of his overthrow. Having failed in every other
point, with malicious hearts they have brought forward this measure,
knowing well that I could never yield it my obedience. With lying
tongues have they declared before thee that it received my approbation.
It is true, O king, that I have violated thy law; and, moreover, I must
do so hereafter. For fourscore years has thy servant offered his
prayers to the God of his fathers. When a little lad in the land of
Judah, I was taught by a beloved mother to lisp the name of Jehovah.
From that time to this, O king, at morning, noon and eventide, thy
servant has prayed to his God. And is Daniel to be frightened from his
duty now in his old age? Nay, O king! My prayers must daily ascend to
the throne of the Most High! Sooner would I suffer a thousand deaths
than prove a traitor to the God of Israel.”

The king was deeply moved by the words of the aged Hebrew, and
continued for some time in deep silence. At last he rose to his feet,
and, with a voice trembling with anger, exclaimed:

“By the gods! If these presidents have come before me with lying words,
I will cut them in pieces, and leave them neither root nor branch!
Daniel, if thou sayest, I will have them arrested and destroyed! This
very hour the word shall go forth!”

“Nay, O king! Listen to the counsel of thine aged servant. This hasty
movement would not be well received among thy subjects. The decree has
gone forth. I pray thee let the law have its course, but be assured, O
king, that not a hair of thy servant’s head shall be injured. The God
that I serve and in whom I trust, shall deliver me from every danger,
and no weapon formed against me shall prosper. Hereafter do with mine
enemies as thou seest fit. Be assured, O king, that my life is as
secure among the lions as in the presence of my kind sovereign! The
same God that preserved my cousins alive in the midst of a burning,
fiery furnace, can easily shut the mouths of the lions, and make them
as harmless as the little lambs of the flock.”

Here the king was melted into tears; and, so deeply was he affected,
that for a long time he was unable to speak. At last, in a low key, he
spoke:

“O Daniel, this thing must never come to pass! May the gods forbid that
I should endanger the life of my servant! But the writing is signed! My
heart is sad! My soul is sick!”

“Let not the king be sore troubled on account of his servant,” said
Daniel. “The God of heaven shall certainly overrule this matter to his
own glory.”

“Thou mayest return, Daniel,” said the king. “I know not what to do. I
fear I have been greatly deceived.”

“The word of thy servant, in a case like this, is not sufficient to
gainsay the testimony of six witnesses. When the proper hour arrives,
the king shall learn from other lips than mine the deep iniquity of
these foul conspirators. Adieu, O king! Let Jehovah use his own
measures for the vindication of his own law!” And the first president
left the royal presence.

On that night Darius the Mede laid his head on his pillow with the full
purpose of delivering Daniel.

Early on the morrow, the “Union Safety Committee,” accompanied by the
other three, made their way into the presence of the king.

“Ye are punctual!” said the king, with a meaning glance.

“We take unbounded pleasure in obeying all the requirements of our
king,” said Fraggood, “and may the gods curse all those that are
disobedient!”

“Since ye left my presence yesterday, I have had an interview with the
first president, and from his venerable lips I learn that he had no
voice in the formation of this law that ye say he hath violated.”

“This is as thy servant expected, O king!” answered Kinggron. “What
transgressor do we ever find that will not strive to hide his guilt?”

“Daniel strives _not_ to hide his guilt,” replied the king in a firm
tone. “He freely acknowledges that he violated the law, and moreover he
assures me that he will continue to violate it three times every day.
Thus ye perceive that the first president wishes not to hide his guilt,
nor even to escape the punishment. But with all the weight of reason,
consistency and humanity on his side, he pronounces the law at war with
all goodness, and denies having had any part in bringing it into
existence. Now, with all due respect to your testimonies, which, in
point of law, must outweigh the declaration of one man, I freely
acknowledge to you, my presidents and princes, that it is my firm
conviction that ye are a band of unprincipled liars, fully bent on the
destruction of this Daniel!”

At this plain, royal truth, the “Union Safety Committee” turned pale,
and the other three appeared to be similarly affected. But Fraggood,
recovering his self-possession, hastened to the rescue.

“Then my lord the king had rather believe a man that defies his power
by boasting his determination to violate the king’s decree at least
three times a day, than his faithful servants who honor his laws, and
who desire to bring the guilty to punishment. Let not the king be
deceived by the smooth tongue of this intriguing old Israelite, who can
by the eloquence of his lips give to truth the color of falsehood, and
to deception the appearance of sincerity. Thy servants now in the
presence of the king are ready to prove all the declarations of thy
servants who testified in thy presence yesterday. But what would avail
their testimony in the ears of Darius? But, O king, remember that thy
decree hath gone forth, and it cannot be recalled. And, moreover, it is
well understood in Babylon that Daniel sets thy power at defiance, and
thy decision in this matter is watched for by tens of thousands; and if
this Daniel escapes the punishment of the law, we may as well burn up
our statute books and give absolute liberty to every ruffian and
desperado. Law and order will be at an end, the union of the provinces
will be forever dissolved, and confusion and desolation shall follow.
The question now to be settled is not, ‘How came this law to be
enacted?’ but, seeing that it is enacted, is there power enough in the
king of the Medes and Persians to put it in force; and, if there is,
will he do it? Or does he wish us to retire from his presence and send
forth heralds through the streets of Babylon to inform the people that
the decree enacted a few days ago, and signed according to the law of
the Medes and Persians, which changeth not, is abolished? Shall it be
told in the streets of this proud city that Darius the Mede has so
quickly changed his mind and is sorry for what he hath done, because
one of his favorites has violated the law? Thou saidst yesterday that
thy name would go down to posterity as the name of a fool. The king was
far from being believed by thy servant then, but, if thou persistest in
this determination of letting the guilty escape, I know not but thou
wilt cause to be brought about the fulfillment of thine own prophecy?”

Long and severe was this interview between the king and the
conspirators, and all the weight of their ingenuity was brought to bear
on his mind. It failed to convince him that Daniel’s words were false;
yet, partly from a false view of consistency, and partly from the
advice of the first president, he gave his signature to the death
warrant of the old Israelite.




CHAPTER XXVI.


The news of the condemnation of the Hebrew prophet soon spread through
all Babylon, and the hour of his execution was well known. It was the
great theme of conversation among high and low, rich and poor, and
there were but few who were not horrified at the awful doom of the man
of God.

No man in Babylon was better known or more universally beloved than the
old prime minister of Nebuchadnezzar. His long residence in the city
had rendered his name familiar to the populace, and a vast number held
him in respect bordering on veneration. His mild and friendly
deportment whenever brought into the society of the common people, had
won their affection. The poor and the needy had ever found relief at
his door. The little children even claimed the aged prophet as their
friend. He found it not beneath the dignity of his station to speak to
them in the street, put his hand on their heads, and say, “May Jehovah
bless my little children!”

In the vicinity of the first president’s mansion were seen numerous
groups of persons engaged in low conversation, while deep sorrow was
visible on every countenance. These gatherings gradually swelled to one
solid mass of human beings. The doors of the president’s house were
closed, and thick curtains’ were drawn across the lattices, and no one
as yet appeared to enter those portals. Presently the throng was in
commotion, several chariots halted before the door, and a number of
government officials alighted, and, with slow steps, and solemn
countenances, they ascended the steps, entered, and closed the door. A
peculiar gathering that! A solemn, sad throng! All conversation had
ceased. The stillness was broken by the sudden appearance of several
platoons of soldiers, who took their stand and formed a square in front
of the mansion. The door at last opened, and two uniformed officers
appeared side by side, and slowly marched out. Next appeared the
sheriff, with the prisoner leaning on his arm. On the broad platform he
waited for a moment, evidently to permit some of his near friends to
embrace him before they parted. Thick and fast they gathered around the
aged saint, with loud weeping and lamentation; but soon their cries
were drowned amid the louder lamentations of the throng. Last of all
there approached the man of God two aged women, on whose countenances
Time had tried in vain to erase marks of loveliness and beauty.

With a smile, one of the twain took the hand of the prophet, and gently
said:

“May Jehovah grant a happy night to his servant among the lions, and on
the morrow may we have a joyful meeting.”

“God bless thee, dear Perreeza!” said the man of God.

The other one now approached, and, in a mild voice, said:

“Daniel, the servant of the living God, is secure in the midst of all
his foes. He that quenched the violence of the fire, shall tame the
fury of the lions.”

“Heaven smile upon the daughter of Barzello!” was the prophet’s answer.

The procession was now formed, and soon reached the vicinity of the
lions’ den, where thousands of the inhabitants had assembled to take
the last lingering look at their aged fellow-citizen. There also was
the king himself, with a number of his most intimate nobles. The
soldiers moved forward, and a clear space was prepared in front of the
platform on which the king and his friends stood.

The countenance of the monarch was pale, and his whole appearance gave
the beholder to understand that he was one of the unhappiest of
mortals. The conspirators were not permitted to occupy the platform
with him, but were commanded to stand together on his left.

When the prisoner arrived, he gently bowed and saluted the king, which
salutation was answered only by falling tears. The throng, witnessing
the emotion of the king, gave vent to their grief, and one loud wail
ascended. Then, indeed, did those conspirators tremble! Then did they
really learn the deep hold their victim had on the popular mind. Again
the agitation was partially quieted, when the loud roaring of lions
within made the earth tremble. The awful moment was drawing nigh!
Daniel ascended some steps near by, and having had permission from the
king, proceeded, in a few words, to address the multitude:

“Babylonians! with naught of malice in my heart against any man, and
with perfect good feeling toward the king, I yield myself to the
demands of a broken law. Here, in the presence of the God of my
fathers, whom I worship, and in the presence of my king, whom I
respect, and in the presence of this throng, whose tears flow for my
sorrow, and in the presence of these mine accusers, who thirst for my
blood, I solemnly declare, that as first president in the kingdom, I
never was consulted in regard to the making of this law, that is about
to consign your aged servant to the lions. In honor to my king, who now
laments the sad fate of his unworthy president, let me also testify
that in order to persuade him to sign a decree which had never entered
his heart, the most deliberate falsehoods were poured into his ears, by
those whose only object was the overthrow of Daniel. After more than
threescore years of public service, I cheerfully submit to my fate,
knowing well that Jehovah, the God of Israel, in whom I trust, will
direct this whole matter to his own glory. Hereafter it will be known
in Babylon, that it was not the ‘safety of the Union’ that demanded the
enactment of this cruel law; but that it was conceived in envy, and
brought forth in malice, and thoughtlessly signed by our king, who
considered all his presidents to be men of benevolence, wisdom, and
understanding. For violating this law I ask no forgiveness. Sooner
would I suffer a thousand deaths than prove a traitor to the religion
of my fathers. Babylonians, I say no more! Accept my thanks for your
tears! May Jehovah continue to grant you great prosperity, when your
friend Daniel shall have passed away.”

Then turning to those whose painful duty it was to lead him to the den,
he said:

“Now I am ready.”

The executioners, with trembling hands, laid hold of the aged prisoner,
and led him to the door of the den. Again there was an awful roaring of
lions. As he passed the king on his way to the den, the monarch cried
out:

“Thy God, whom thou servest continually, he will surely deliver thee!”

The prisoner was seized with strong hands and elevated over the inner
walls, and by means of strong cords was lowered to the bottom of the
den, where the ravenous lions held their nightly revels. The
executioners, as if afraid to hear the prisoner’s dying shrieks,
hastened away. The throng soon dispersed in sorrowful silence. The
king, in deep agony of mind, entered his chariot, and was driven to the
palace.

How sad was that night for royalty! Filled with remorse for having
signed the fatal decree, and knowing not how to retrace his steps or to
retrieve the effects of his rash act, the king passed the hours in
agony. With a heavy heart and a throbbing brow, he paced the length of
his royal bedchamber, and thus did he converse with himself:

“How he justified the king, almost with his dying breath! Ah! but I
justify not myself. Why did I sign that silly and cruel decree, by
which the prime jewel of my kingdom is lost? Why did I not consider the
thing well, and consult the first president? Alas! it is now too late.
The deed is done, and there is no remedy! How the multitude sympathized
with the noble prisoner! How copious their tears and how audible their
sobs! How beloved in the estimation of the populace was that aged
Daniel! What think they by this time of _my_ prudence and wisdom? Have
I not lost in this the estimation of my people? Will his God, indeed,
deliver him? Is he not already torn by the lions? How cruel a fate for
so worthy a man! But if Daniel _is_ spared, no thanks to me! Will not
this people inwardly curse me, and wish me out of their borders? What
poor returns to _them_, for the grand reception they gave _me!_ What
will my nephew, Cyrus, think of my sagacity and power of discernment!”


Let us for a while leave the unfortunate Mede, and take a view of the
hero of the lions’ den.

When Daniel was thrust among the lions, the sun was yet one hour above
the western horizon, and the light from the top of the den, made the
interior comparatively light. When he found himself at the bottom, for
a minute he walked to and fro, then fell on his knees, and began to
pour his prayers into the ears of the God of his fathers. The lions,
quite unaccustomed to such a sight, looked on for a while in silent
wonder. Then they ran together to the other end of the den, where the
old lion of all—the “lord of the manor”—and his aged companion, the old
lioness, the mistress of the “establishment,” were, heedless of the
youthful pranks and occasional quarrels of their offspring, enjoying a
good, comfortable sleep. A loud roar from one of the youngsters, which
was answered by another louder roar from his companion, aroused the
energies of the old couple. They uttered an ill-natured growl, very
much on the same principle that anyone else would on being
unnecessarily disturbed in the midst of a nap. Perhaps the growl was
equivalent to, “Children, you are very rude. Make less noise, or I
shall attend to you!” This reproof (if reproof it was) did not seem in
the least to frighten the young lions. One of them, the one that roared
the loudest, put his head close to that of his sire, and if he said
anything, it was in so low a whisper that it could not be heard at any
distance. From what immediately followed, one might think the young
chap said something in this fashion:

[Illustration: For a moment he walked to and fro]

“Get up quickly! Come to the other end of the den, and there you will
see a sight that you never saw before in all your days. There is
another victim; but he has no more the appearance of _common_ victims
than thou hast. I know by his eye he has no fear of the lions. Why,
think! as soon as he came to the bottom of the den, he walked to and
fro among us as deliberately as my brother here, or myself, would walk
among our companions.”

After the whispering was over (if whispering it was), the old lion
uttered another growl, as much as to say, “That sounds to me rather
improbable, but I guess I will go and see for myself.” The old lion led
the way. Close by his heels followed the lioness. Next in order
followed the rest of the family. They soon arrived at the spot, and
sure enough, it was as the young lion had declared. The old lion paused
for a moment, but he soon made up his mind that there was nothing to
fear. So he slowly approached. He paused again. Daniel reached out his
hand and spoke. The lion fancied the peculiarity of that voice; so with
eyes half closed he slowly walked up to the man, and with the innocence
and harmlessness of a young spaniel, he licked the hand of the prophet.
After having partially conquered his embarrassment, he uttered another
low growl, and looked toward the rest of the company, as much as to
say, “Come this way! Don’t be afraid.”

They slowly and silently gathered around the strange visitor, and each
one appeared to be pleased to be permitted to come in contact with his
person in some way. And when the darkness of night gathered around
them, the old lion answered for Daniel’s pillow, the lioness lay at his
feet, and the young lions stretched themselves on either side, to keep
him warm; and soon the Prophet of Jehovah was fast asleep.


If ever a sleepless mortal, wearied with the tediousness of a painful
night, rejoiced to see the first glimmering dawn of the morn, King
Darius did, after that dark, dreary period of agony. No sooner was it
fairly day than the monarch ordered his chariot, and, with a number of
his nobles, he was once more on his way toward the den of lions. The
royal chariot, as it moved through the various thoroughfares, attracted
the notice of the inhabitants. Its destination was understood, and as
there was some faint hope in the minds of thousands that the God of
Daniel would miraculously interfere and save his servant, they had
accordingly held themselves in readiness to be early at the den. They,
therefore, with all haste followed in the direction of the royal train.
The king was greatly astonished to find already there a large number of
the inhabitants. The movements and excitement of the people had also
brought to the spot the six conspirators, who were greatly astonished
to see the king. The monarch, in trembling accents, ordered the stone
to be removed from the door of the den. The order was quickly obeyed.
While every eye rested upon him, the king entered and stood inside of
the outer door, and cried, in a loud voice:

“Oh, Daniel! is thy God, whom thou servest continually, able to deliver
thee from the lions?”

Oh, the breathless silence of that moment! A thousand hearts throb with
deep emotion, in painful suspense to learn the result. Hark! A voice
clear and firm ascends from the depths, and falls on the ears of the
multitude:

“O king, live forever!”

It was enough! Gladsome shouts echoed from a thousand tongues! The joy
was unbounded. Their sorrow for their old friend was turned into joy,
and the name of the God of Daniel was praised.

Immediate orders were given to bring the old Hebrew up, and soon he
stood in the presence of the king and the rejoicing throng.

Then said Daniel, turning to the king, “My God hath sent his angel, and
hath shut the mouths of the lions, that they have not hurt me;
forasmuch as before him innocency was found in me; and also before
thee, O king, have I done no hurt.”

An aged man at this moment was seen making his way through the crowd,
as if endeavoring to find admittance into the presence of the king. His
venerable appearance served to make for him room.

“We meet again, Apgomer!” cried Daniel, in a familiar, friendly voice:
and then to the king he said:

“This is my good friend Apgomer, O king, one of the few friends of my
early days. He hath words to communicate to the king, in the presence
of this throng, that will give thee to understand clearly that this law
was prepared on purpose to ensnare thy servant Daniel.”

“Let my worthy friends, Fraggood and Kinggron, with their four
companions, the princes, stand in this direction!” said the king, with
an angry expression of countenance.

The conspirators, with paleness gathering on their brows, obeyed, and
tremblingly stood facing the king.

“Now, O Daniel, thy friend Apgomer may give his testimony before the
king.”

“O king, live forever!” said Apgomer. “This day thy servant is
fourscore and ten years old. From the days of my childhood have I dwelt
in Babylon; and never for any long period have I departed hence. Soon
thy servant shall leave this world of sorrow—I stand on the verge of
the grave. At this time, with deep soberness, I appeal to the God that
dwelleth in light for the sincerity of my purpose in thus appearing
before my lord the king. My words will be few, therefore, O king, I
pray thee hear me patiently.

“These men who now stand before thee and by whose continual importunity
thou gavest thy signature for the arrest of thy servant Daniel, are
wicked and deceitful men, and with lying words have they deceived thee,
O king. Their secret devices are well known to thy servant. With mine
own ears have I listened to their midnight plotting; and from their own
lips have I learned their fixed purpose to destroy the innocent without
cause, even thy servant Daniel. For many months, O king, these cruel
men have sought an occasion against the first president, and after
having failed in every other point, they thought at last of this.

“I heard the plot described at midnight recently while resting in the
public garden. The conspiracy was led by Fraggood and Kinggron. They
were assisted by a number of the princes, among whom are Bimbokrak and
Scramgee. This foul movement has been going on for many a day, but
until last week the conspirators could not agree on a plan. At last,
Prince Scramgee brought forward a scheme, which met with the cordial
approval of the rest. And who but the chief evil spirit of the universe
could have put in his heart such a horrible measure? It was in effect
that a law be enacted that anyone who prayed to the God of Israel
should be cast into the lions’ den. When I made thy servant Daniel
acquainted with the plot against his life, his only reply was:

“‘Let them proceed in their scheme of wickedness. Let it become ripe.
The God in whom I trust shall vindicate the honor and superiority of
his own law. I might easily frustrate all their malicious designs by
acquainting the king with their cowardly plots; but the cause of
Jehovah shall gather more strength from a miraculous display of his
power in the preservation of his servant from harm. Forty years ago,
idolatry in Chaldea received a blow, from the effects of which it has
never recovered, in the miraculous deliverance of my three cousins from
the midst of a burning, fiery furnace. And if a visit to the lions for
a few hours may cause the name of Jehovah to be feared, I ask for no
greater honor. No weapon formed against the servant of Jehovah shall
prosper. Let not my good friend Apgomer be troubled. The life of Daniel
is as safe in the lions’ den as among his friends at his own home.
Therefore let them proceed with their malicious measures; let no
impediment be thrown in their way. Let them have a few days of
rejoicing, and their brief nights of merriment. Soon the day of
retribution shall overtake them; for He that is higher than the highest
shall surely avenge himself on these workers of iniquity.’”

“Believe not this man, O king!” said the pale and trembling Fraggood,
“seeing he prepareth lying words before thee.”

At this moment a young man, whose countenance denoted some passion,
rushed on the stage, and, without any apology or ceremony, began to
speak:

“Let not the worthy and aged Apgomer be called a liar! A lie never
escaped those venerable lips, O king! As soon may the gods lie! Thy
servant is the doorkeeper of the Garden. I can testify to the existence
of a plot to destroy Daniel.”

“It is enough!” cried the king. “Seize the guilty wretches! Let the
cowardly liars meet the doom they had prepared for my servant Daniel!
Up! and throw them to the lions!”

No sooner were the words spoken than a score of willing hands seized
the forms of the conspirators, and, amid the curses of an indignant
throng, they were thrown to the depth of the den, to meet a far
different fate from that of the man of God.

Then spoke the king:

“I make a decree, that in every dominion of my kingdom, men tremble and
fear before the God of Daniel: for he is the living God, and steadfast
forever, and his kingdom is that which shall not be destroyed, and his
dominion shall be even unto the end. He delivereth and rescueth, and he
worketh signs and wonders in heaven and on earth, who hath delivered
Daniel from the power of the lions.”

“O king, live forever!” cried the well pleased throng.

Daniel was taken into the royal chariot and seated by the side of the
king, and the royal train moved forward, amid the triumphant shouts of
the populace.

Thus fidelity to the God of Israel was abundantly rewarded.




CHAPTER XXVII.


In two years after these occurrences Darius the Mede died; and about
the same time died also Cambyses, the father of Cyrus, in Persia.
Cyrus, therefore, returned to Babylon, and took upon himself the
government of the empire.

The history of the lions’ den, with all the intrigues that led to it,
made Daniel thrice dear to the inhabitants of Babylon. His name
commanded reverence wherever it was mentioned, He was looked upon as an
angel of mercy, goodness, and wisdom, sent by the gods to bless the
race.

Cyrus, for a long time, had desired the opportunity of a prolonged
interview with Daniel, of whom he had heard so many wonderful things,
both as a minister to the king of Babylon and also while administering
the affairs of the kingdom under the reign of his Median uncle. The
Persian was already well versed in current history. Of the God of
Israel he had heard much of late, and he felt a strong inclination to
hear more. And of whom could he learn to better advantage than of the
famous Hebrew prophet? The celebrated Persian, from his infancy, had
been taught to worship and adore the imaginary gods of his own country;
but he had always felt doubtful in regard to the existence of these
gods; and many of the popular theories of Persia, in regard to their
various deities, were, to him, full of inconsistencies and
contradictions.

Not many days after his arrival in Babylon, the royal chariot was seen
to halt at the door of Daniel’s residence; and, moreover, the king
himself was seen to enter.

[Illustration: The royal chariot halted at the door of Daniel’s
residence]

“Thou wilt pardon this sudden intrusion,” said Cyrus; “I have long
desired an interview with the president, and for this purpose I have
entered his house; the king is happy to find that he is not absent.”

“My lord the king hath greatly honored his unworthy servant by entering
under his roof,” said the old Hebrew. “This condescension of the great
Persian conqueror is a favor of such a magnitude that it shall never be
forgotten.”

“Let not my aged friend Daniel speak thus,” said the king, in a
friendly manner. “Call it not condescension in Cyrus to seek the
society of one who has justly earned the reputation of being the most
profound statesman that ever moved among mortals. Let the king rather
consider himself honored in being permitted to listen to thy words of
wisdom and understanding.”

“Humility becometh well the potentates of earth. But yet, O king, thou
beholdest not the real grandeur of thy mission. Thou knowest not that
thou art the peculiarly anointed—not of the gods, but of the only God
of heaven, the Almighty Jehovah, the God of Israel, to pour his wrath
upon the nations, and to restore the children of Judah to their own
land.”

“Thou hast touched a theme on which, above all others, at this time,
the king would choose to dwell. Of the gods I have but an imperfect
knowledge. Conscious am I that under the particular direction of some
invisible power I have been led forward in all my movements, from my
youth up. I was taught to worship the gods in my juvenile days; but
ever since I arrived at years of thought and judgment, my mind has been
greatly perplexed by what seemeth to me to be glaring inconsistencies
in our theory of religion.”

“Praised be the name of Jehovah, under whose direction thou comest at
this time to seek knowledge! Happy is thy servant Daniel to know that
he is indeed able to impart unto the king that which he inquireth
after. Jehovah is the only God, and the signs which he hath in all ages
given of himself, O king, are abundant. We hear much of the exploits of
the gods of the heathen; but of these performances there are no proofs,
and they exist only in the imaginations of their worshipers. Not so
with _our_ God—the God that made the world. The history of our nation,
which history no one can gainsay, is an assemblage of miracles. Examine
the records of our historian Moses, who conversed with God face to
face. Our God brought us out from under the dominion of Pharaoh with a
strong hand and an outstretched arm. He gave evidence of his presence
by the infliction of twelve terrible plagues on the king of Egypt and
his people. He opened before the Hebrews a passage through the sea, and
brought them dry-shod to the opposite shore. For forty years were they
fed with manna from heaven, while water was called forth from the
flinty rock. And as the waves of the Red Sea were parted before them as
they left Egypt, so, in like manner, were the waters of Jordan parted
as they left the plains of Moab; and thus were they settled in the land
of Canaan. Since that day, nine hundred and fifteen years have passed
away; and during all this period, Jehovah hath given unto his people
abundant signs of his presence. Thus our God is not a being that dwells
only in the imagination of men, but his wonderful acts, O king, are
written on the pages of correct history.”

“If these things are so, surely the God of Israel is the only God. But,
Daniel, thou knowest that it is much harder for Cyrus the Persian to
believe these things than for thee, who art a native Hebrew, and a firm
believer in the God thou worshipest. Have not the Persians their
histories of their gods as well as ye?”

“They have, O king! But those histories are dark, indefinite, and
without date, which is a conclusive evidence that they are fiction, and
not history. If my lord the king hath aught to doubt in regard to the
correctness of our _ancient_ historians concerning our God, what
thinketh he of those miraculous displays of Divine power witnessed by
his servant and by thousands more, during the last threescore years and
ten?”

“Proceed, Daniel; the king is well pleased to hear thee!”

“Be it known to thee, O king, that all the calamities that of late have
befallen Babylon have come to pass in perfect accordance with the
predictions of God’s prophets, some of whom prophesied over two hundred
years before these events transpired. When thou comparest these
prophecies with the actual occurrences, there remaineth no longer a
place for doubt. Even the draining of the Euphrates, O king, was spoken
of by the prophet of Jehovah over one hundred and fifty years before
the wonderful thing was conceived in thy mind.”

“Enough, O Daniel! Enough!” cried Cyrus. “If thou art able to show me
this thing, I ask no more!”

The Hebrew sage, with a peculiar smile of satisfaction on his
countenance, rose from his seat, and took from a shelf what appeared to
be a scroll of ancient manuscript.

“Listen, O king, to the words of Jehovah’s prophets in regard to the
taking of Babylon:

“‘Make bright the arrows, gather the shields! The Lord hath raised up
the spirits of the _kings of the Medes_, for his device is against
Babylon to destroy it; because it is the vengeance of the Lord, the
vengeance of his temple. Howl ye, for the day of the Lord is at hand!
Shout against her round about! Behold, I will stir up the _Medes_
against them, who shall not regard silver; and as for gold, they shall
not delight in it. Lift ye up a banner upon the high mountain! Exalt
the voice! shake the hand, that they may go into the gates of the
nobles! Go up, O Elam! Besiege, O Media! Therefore shall evil come upon
thee, and thou shalt not know from whence it cometh. Desolation shall
come upon thee suddenly, which thou shalt not know. I have laid a snare
for thee, and thou art also taken, and thou wast not aware. O thou that
dwellest upon many waters, _I will dry up her sea_, and make her
springs dry. A drought is upon her waters, and they shall be _dried
up_. In her heat I will make their _feasts_, and I will _make them
drunken_, that they may repose and sleep a perpetual sleep, and not
wake, saith the Lord. Arise, ye princes, and anoint the shield! Prepare
slaughter for his children, for the iniquity of their fathers, that
they do not rise and possess the land; for I will rise up against thee,
saith the Lord of hosts, and cut off from Babylon the name and remnant,
and son and nephew, saith the Lord.’

“These, O king, are some of the predictions of Jehovah against Babylon,
by the mouths of his holy prophets. And has not my lord the king been
an eye witness to their fulfillment!”

“They have all come to pass to the letter, O Daniel! Surely the God of
Israel is the God of gods! Why should I any longer doubt? Thus it
appears that Cyrus the Persian has been under the directions of the God
of Israel, to bring about these wonderful events!”

“In this thou sayest truly, O king. And strange as it may sound in
thine ears, be assured that thy name was known in Israel for over one
hundred and fifty years before thy birth.”

Here the Persian gazed on the Hebrew for awhile in silent wonderment;
and it was evident from his countenance, that he had some doubt in
regard to the truth of the sentence.

“Did the king rightly understand thy meaning? Sayest thou that my
_name_ was known in Israel for one hundred and fifty years previous to
my birth?”

“The king rightly understandeth his servant. Thy name was carefully
written in a book by one of our prophets two hundred and twenty years
ago. Happily, I have now in my possession a copy taken from the
original, written by one of our scribes, and bearing date which maketh
it over one hundred and seventy years old. If the king desireth, thy
servant will read.”

“Read, Daniel,” said the king, with much feeling.

Daniel from the same scroll from which he had read before, which was
the Prophecies of Isaiah, read:

“‘Thus saith the Lord to his anointed, to Cyrus, whose right hand I
have holden, to subdue nations before him; and I will loose the loins
of kings to open before him the two-leaved gates; _and the gates shall
not he shut_, I will go before thee, and make the crooked places
straight: I will break in pieces _the gates of brass_, and cut in
sunder the bars of iron: and I will give thee the treasures of
darkness, and hidden riches of secret places, that thou mayest know
that I, the Lord which call thee by thy name, am the God of Israel. For
Jacob my servant’s sake, and Israel mine elect, I have even called thee
by thy name: I have surnamed thee, though thou hast not known me.’”

The Persian was deeply moved. Indeed, tears were in the monarch’s eyes.
He rose, and in the deepest reverence, exclaimed:

“I acknowledge the God of Israel as the great ruling power of the
universe! Under his infinitely wise directions I stand ready to do his
pleasure, and accomplish his great designs.”

“One favor it is thine to grant, O king, according to the word of the
Lord. For their iniquity the children of Judah were carried captive
into Babylon, and Jerusalem was rendered desolate. According to the
word of the Lord by the mouth of Jeremiah, they were to remain in this
land of their captivity for seventy years. This period, O king, in a
few more months will be at an end. I pray thee, give permission to the
children of Judah to return to their own land, and build up the old
waste places, and raise again a temple to the God of Israel.”

“This thy request, O Daniel, shall be granted,” said the king, in a
firm voice. “The proclamation shall go forth from the king, and all
that is needful for the enterprise shall be supplied.”

“Praised be Jehovah!” said the aged Hebrew. “At last the days of
Judah’s captivity are numbered, and Jerusalem shall be restored. Thy
God, O king, whom from henceforth thou wilt serve, shall greatly
prosper thee in the affairs of thy kingdom.”

“I trust my faithful servant will consent to tarry with the king, to
whom, from time to time, he will deliver lessons of wisdom. I purpose
soon to remove my court from Babylon to Ecbatana, in Persia, whither I
hope my faithful servant Daniel will consent to remove.”

“Thy servant in this is willing to abide the pleasure of the king.”

The king left the presence of his aged minister with strange but yet
pleasurable emotions, hurried into his chariot, which was waiting, and
was soon on his way to the palace.

The next day the following proclamation was heralded through the
streets of Babylon, and sent to all the provinces:

“Thus saith Cyrus, King of Persia: The Lord God of heaven hath given me
all the kingdoms of the earth, and he hath charged me to build him an
house at Jerusalem, which is in Judah. Who is there among you of all
his people? His God be with him, and let him go up to Jerusalem, which
is in Judah, and build the house of the Lord God of Israel (he is the
God), which is in Jerusalem. And whosoever remaineth in any place where
he sojourneth, let the men of his place help him with silver, and with
gold, and with goods, and with beasts, besides the free-will offering
for the house of God that is in Jerusalem.”


This proclamation was received by the captive Jews with gladness and
great joy. Measures were immediately put forth for the accomplishment
of the enterprise; the king, in the meantime, continuing to give every
encouragement to these measures, in the firm conviction that he was
under peculiar guidance of the God of heaven.


A brighter day never dawned on the plains of Judah. The brilliant rays
of the morning sun were seen flashing upwards from behind Mount Zion,
like so many messengers in uniform, proclaiming the near approach of
their sovereign master. Presently, the great regent of day himself, in
slow and silent majesty, made his appearance, and once more smiled on
the City of the Great King. At an early hour, multitudes were seen
pouring into the city, from east, west, north, and south, and on each
countenance might have been read a degree of excitement and animation.
This was the twenty-fourth day of the second month, in the second year
after the return from Babylon; and on this day was to be laid the
foundation of the temple of the Lord. This was well understood
throughout the land; and we wonder not that from cities and villages,
from hill and valley, the emancipated Hebrews hastened by thousands to
witness a scene at the thought of which their hearts throbbed with
intense emotions. By the sixth hour the great multitudes had
congregated to witness the solemn and joyful ceremony. There stood the
priests, with their long, flowing robes, with trumpets in their hands.
There, also, stood the Levites, and the sons of Asaph, with cymbals to
praise the Lord, after the ordinance of David, king of Israel. The
builders had laid the foundation. Then the trumpets were blown, and the
sons of Asaph struck their cymbals. Songs of praise ascended on high,
and they gave thanks unto the Lord.

The ceremony was over. The concourse was dismissed, under the
benediction of the priests, and the masses moved homeward in all
directions.

Two chariots of magnificent appearance, drawn by beautiful steeds, were
seen leaving the ground. They drew much attention from the crowd, as
they leisurely drove through the winding streets of Jerusalem. At last
the chariots halted in front of a mansion, which had the appearance of
having of late undergone a thorough repair. From one of these chariots
alighted several venerable men, their hair whitened with age. Their
whole bearing gave the beholder to understand that they were persons of
distinction. From the other chariot alighted, first a man of middle
age, next a woman somewhat younger, then an aged man and woman, the
latter alighting with great elasticity of step. The countenance of this
lady gave evidence that it had once been the throne of rare beauty.

“Why looketh my brother so thoughtful and sad on this day of general
rejoicing in Judah?” asked the aged lady, directing her address to one
of those who had alighted from the first chariot.

“I am not sad, sister,” replied the brother, “but am thoughtful. And
what thinkest thou my mind dwelt upon?”

“Surely, I cannot tell. Some past scenes in Chaldea, peradventure.”

“Nay, sister. But I was thinking that seventy and two years ago this
very night, myself and my two brothers here, accompanied by our beloved
Jeremiah, entered this house, and revealed the sad story of our
captivity to our beloved Perreeza.”

“Ah, dear Hananiah! and a dark night of sorrow that proved to your
almost brokenhearted sister.”

“But I trust that Jehovah hath overruled the whole in the end to the
glory of his great name,” said Mishael.

“Surely he hath!” quickly answered Mathias. “Forever blessed be the
memory of that delightful night when these eyes, at the house of
Barzello, rested on the bright charms of the ‘Rose of Sharon.’”

“The rose no longer blooms, Mathias!” answered Perreeza. “It’s hues are
faded; and, under the pelting storms of life, its petals have well-nigh
withered.”

“The tint may fade, and the petals may wither, but sweeter than ever
shall its fragrance continue to perfume the surrounding air,” answered
the husband, his face glowing with pure affection. “In that better
country whither we are going, where flowers never fade, and where roses
forever bloom, the ‘Rose of Sharon’ shall yet flourish in immortal
beauty.”

Mathias, Perreeza and the latter’s three brothers had been made
almoners of an immense bequest provided in Joram’s will for advancing
the interests of Judah. It was stipulated that the fund should not be
employed until the expiration of seventy years of captivity. Joram
believed, with Daniel and the other distinguished Israelites, that the
captivity would come to an end in the specified seventy years. The
treasure was hidden where none but the almoners and their natural heirs
could disturb it.

It was Esrom’s purpose, as a final atonement, to bequeath one-half of
his vast fortune for the development of religious and educational
institutions in Jerusalem and to aid the poorer class of Hebrews to
acquire homes. The decision of Cyrus the king to assist in rebuilding
the Temple at Jerusalem enabled Mathias and his associates to use the
bequest in other channels. The fund at their disposal was large, and
they were enabled to give a new impetus to the cause of education in
Judah. Hundreds of the former captives were likewise assisted in the
purchase of land and cattle. Much had been accomplished in the past
year for the upbuilding of Jerusalem and the advancement of the race.
It was natural, therefore, that, at the close of the ceremonies
attending the laying of the foundation of the new temple, Esrom’s
friends should let their minds dwell on his generosity. Conversation
turned to this theme as the family entered their home.

“It was a gracious and noble thing for Joram to do,” exclaimed
Hananiah.

“My uncle frequently told me,” said Perreeza, “that it was his earnest
desire to have his native city and his beloved land of Judah take a
more advanced position in the affairs of the world. He believed that,
with higher educational advantages, the Israelites would rapidly gain
in statecraft. They are an industrious people, and many of them have
shown such marked administrative ability as to convince observing men
that the race will be potent in shaping the destiny of nations.

“Uncle Esrom became the wealthiest man in all Babylon because of his
sagacity in barter and exchange. He was wise in regard to what the
populace would buy most freely and where to obtain the merchandise to
the best advantage.”

“His discretion rather than his wealth gave him influence at the king’s
court,” exclaimed Mishael. “Joram was a credit to his people, and
methinks he was remarkable for his talent as a diplomat. He had great
influence in foreign countries, and his knowledge gained abroad was of
the highest importance to Nebuchadnezzar throughout his reign. Our
uncle never forgot his native land, and constantly exerted a powerful
influence in behalf of the people of Judah. That work was secret and
mysterious, however. Frequently we heard of unexpected concessions and
favors to our people from the king, and in time found out that they
were due to Joram’s promptings.”

“My great hope at present is,” returned Perreeza, “to be spared long
enough to see substantial fruit spring from Uncle Esrom’s bounty.”

“I second that hope,” said Hananiah. “I wish to see all the returned
captives well provided for. The children of all these families must
have doubled advantages as a measure of restitution. We can accomplish
much with the immense sum at our disposal.”

“We ought now, under such favorable circumstances,” said Mishael, “to
give Israel a new start in commerce and education. We have the benefit
of Daniel’s wisdom in this great undertaking; for, on several occasions
before we left Babylon, he outlined plans by which Joram’s wishes might
be carried out in a practical manner. With the present government of
Chaldea to protect our nation, the security of life and property is
assured. We can push our projects as hard as we please, and feel
confident that nothing but good is being accomplished.”

The melodious voice of young Rebekah was now heard in another
apartment, warbling one of her sweetest songs.

“Jehovah bless the child!” cried the grandmother. “How that voice of
melody cheers my heart!”

“Mother!” quickly replied Monroah. “Permit me to call her into this
apartment, where she may sing and play thy favorite ‘song of Judah.’”

“Thou art ever kind to thy mother, dear Monroah; do as thou desirest.”

Rebekah was called.

“Will my daughter sing and play for us her grandmother’s favorite ‘song
of Judah’?”

“With pleasure, mother,” cried Rebekah, as she quickly left the
apartment.

In a moment she returned, bearing in her arms a stringed instrument
with which the reader is somewhat familiar, and proceeded with the
following appropriate song:

“When we our weary limbs to rest
    Sat down by proud Euphrates’ stream,
We wept, with doleful thoughts oppressed,
    And Zion was our mournful theme.

“Our harps, that when with joy we sung
    Were wont their tuneful parts to bear,
With silent strings neglected hung
    On willow trees that withered there.

“Oh, Salem! once our happy seat,
    When I of thee forgetful prove,
Then let my trembling hand forget
    These speaking strings with art to move!

“Again we hail the sacred hall,
    That echoed to our youthful lays!
And Amonober’s children all
    Have reached their home to end their days.

“To thee, Almighty King of kings,
    In new-made hymns my voice I’ll raise,
And instruments of many strings
    Shall help me to adore and praise.

“How sweet to die in Judah’s dale,
    And with the fathers calmly rest;
The thought of sleeping in yon vale,
    How soothing to my throbbing breast!

“A few more days of grief and pain,
    And then adieu to every gloom,
For soon we all shall meet again,
    Beyond the portals of the tomb.”


The old harp of Judah has also returned from the captivity, and is once
more safely lodged in its own native Jerusalem, whence Esrom bore it to
the land of strangers a century before.

Time has left some impression on its aged frame, but its tones are
sweeter than ever. In that family it is held as a priceless treasure;
and its melody shall sweetly fall on ears yet unborn, when the hands
that now so skillfully sweep its well-tuned strings shall be palsied,
and the sweet voices that blend with its thrilling chords shall be
silent in the grave.

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12792 ***