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.