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.