. . . . . . .

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.