66 Abednego, had been cast into a fiery furnace for disobeying his orders. What might not be Daniel's fate, if he were to speak openly of the degrading form of madness which threatened the mighty monarch? We read that "he was astonied for an hour, and his thoughts troubled him." It was but for an hour, and then after announcing to the king that for seven years he should eat grass with the oxen, and that his dwelling should be with the beasts of the field, he ventured to give him the counsel of friendship, which rarely meets the ear of the despot. Wherefore, oh King," he said "let my counsel be acceptable unto thee, and break off thy sins by righteousness, and thine iniquities by shewing mercy to the poor; it may be a lengthening of thy tranquillity." After the death of Nebuchadnezzar, and that of Evil Merodach, Daniel explained to Belshazzar the meaning of the mysterious writing on the wall, which surprised the king in the midst of a drunken excess. Darius the Mede took Babylon, and placed Daniel under him in the highest office in the state. His elevated position excited the envy of the native princes, and with the hope of effecting his ruin they induced the inconsiderate monarch to pass a law, forbidding any of his subjects, under pain of death, to offer any petition, except to himself, for thirty days. Daniel, who only feared the King of Kings, prayed to Him three times a day, as was his wont, and was condemned to a death of agony, from which he was saved by a miraculous interposition. Daniel was carried to Babylon seven years before Ezekiel, who, twice in his prophecy, alludes to his piety and wisdom. He dwelt at Babylon for many years, but in the latter part of his life, when Cyrus was King of Persia, he appears to have resided at Susa, in a noble palace erected for a winter residence of the court. It was built on the banks of the river Choaspes, the waters of which were pure and delicious, that they were always reserved for the royal table. "Then Susa, by Choaspes' amber stream, The drink of none but kings." SO Its ruins are of immense extent. Large blocks of marble, covered with inscriptions, are often found by the Arabs, who point to the tomb of Daniel at the foot of a pyramid. A small modern building covers the supposed relics of the prophet, and affords shelter for a few dervishes, who are supported by the charity of pilgrims. A curious tradition of another tomb of Daniel is related by a traveller, who visited it about six hundred years since. It was in a city, through the midst of which the Tigris flowed. The affluent inhabitants resided on one side of the river, and the poor on the other. The latter complained that the tomb of Daniel, being on that bank of the stream occupied by the rich, was the cause of their worldly success, and not being able to get any redress, took up arms to get possession of it by force. At last it was agreed, that the tomb should be transported yearly from one bank of the river to the other. This agreement was faithfully kept for many years, until a certain King Senigar ascended the throne. He managed with much dexterity to place it at an equal distance from both sides of the river, and that the ashes of the prophet might be respected, he prohibited fishing for a space of a mile above and below the site. Daniel prospered in the reign of Cyrus, the successor of Darius, and had doubtless the gratification of witnessing the departure of the Israelites for their own land, at the termination of the seventy years' captivity, the whole of which he had spent in Babylonia, as severely tried by the allurements of worldly prosperity, as his predecessors had been by adversity. It was, under providence, through him that Nebuchadnezzar "extolled and honoured" the King of Heaven; that Darius declared him to be "the living God," and "steadfast for ever;" and perhaps it was at his suggestion that Cyrus issued the proclamation for the return of the captives to their own land. It has been said that he pointed out to Cyrus the emphatic prophecy of Isaiah, which made especial mention of him, as the prince under whom they should be delivered. It is probable that Daniel's advanced age prevented his revisiting his native country. The Jews do not now include Daniel among the prophets. The late lamented Dr. Kitto supposed the reason of their not doing so, to be their disappointment that the Messiah, who came at the very time prophesied by Daniel, was not the conquering prince whom their vain imaginations led them to expect. Besides the book which bears his name, Daniel is supposed to have been the author of two apocryphal books, called the Second Book of Daniel, and Bel and the Dragon. HAPPINESS. An essence only, yet a whole- That they may learn, how bright must be, S. L. THOUGHTS FOR TO-DAY AND EVERY DAY. "WHAT! wife?-Gilbert Dodeswell dead!" exclaimed Paul Karnly, an expression of deep sorrow suddenly clouding over his face; "he but a month ago so strong, so brave, seemingly so full of life, so soon cut off! Oh my friend, my friend, my more than brother! poor, poor fellow; " and tears, that most touching evidence of strong emotion in a man, fell slowly down the brown toilhardened cheeks, dropped down upon the hand of his little son, which nestled lovingly in his own. The boy was awed, as what child is not at sight of a parent's, especially a father's sorrow? His merry laugh hushed, he looked wistfully from one to the other, and was well nigh weeping with them from sympathy. But his mother led him gently away. "Mother dear, why is father so very sorry," whispered he, timidly, afraid of breaking the sad silence. "I'm afraid, Johnie, you can't very well understand. Father has suddenly lost a very dear friend, my child, a good, brave man, whom he loved very dearly; he is dead-killed in the war I was talking to you about this morning." ઃઃ But, mother, did you not say he was a very good man ?" "Then, mother, now he is dead, is he not gone to heaven? "Then why, mother," said Johnie, looking very much puzzled, why does father look so sad, and cry so? Teacher told us last Sunday that it was a good and blessed thing to go to heaven, and that we must all try and be very good, and then God would take us to heaven when we died; and I've been trying hard to be good and kind to little Alice ever since. Does'nt father think heaven a nice place, mother?" "Yes, yes, dear Johnie. But," said Mary Karnly, who scarcely knew how to answer the boy's earnest wondering looks, which asked much more than his words, "your father is sad because he has lost his friend; he is gone far away, and he will never see him here again. Don't you think, Johnie, you would feel very sad and cry a great deal, if your little sister Alice were to go away from you to some place very far off?" Oh ! yes indeed, mother," said Johnie earnestly, for he was quite certain he should, though in his childish heart he could not realize how lonely and sad he would be, deprived of his loving little playmate. He sat very silent and thoughtful for a time, though evidently far from satisfied. 66 'Does not poor mean very wretched and unhappy, mother?" asked he presently. "Sometimes, dear, not always." "Well! but I don't see how any one can be poor in heaven; and yet father called Mr. Dodeswell, poor fellow, though you think he is in heaven.—And, mother," said he softly, "is heaven so very far off?" It was a strange question, coming from that pale little face, and sadly startled poor Mrs. Karnly; but she answered calmly, "We cannot see heaven, and we can't tell where it is, my boy; but whether it is far away or very near, we cannot see those we love when they are dead, and are, as we trust, in heaven; so that the distance does not much matter." 66 They say, mother, though, that God lives in heaven; and that he is very near us, and can always see us-don't you think that people who live in heaven with God are near us, and can see us, as well as he can?" "But God, my child, does not live only in heaven, he is everywhere, and sees and knows all things; nothing can he hidden from his sight. But none of us, Johnie, not even the wisest and best, can tell what those in heaven are able to do, and when they are gone away from here we can no longer see and talk with them, and this makes us feel very sad, dear, when friends die, the places they lived in seem so strange and empty without them.” "But, mother, you told me yesterday you were always glad when you saw me happy, because you love me then why," persisted the child," is father so sad? I thought in heaven people were always happy, for teacher said it was a beautiful, pleasant place, full of good and pretty things; and that there there is nothing to make any one sad, no unpleasant things, or hard work to do. Then why is not father glad that Mr. Dodeswell is gone to heaven, and is happy now; for there can be more fighting to do in heaven ?` "Oh! no, Johnie dear, there is no fighting in heaven; all there is pure, peaceful, holy and most blessed. But, my boy, Mr. Dodeswell was so young to die, and had he lived longer would, we trust, have done many good and noble things for which men would have loved and respected him; and more than that, far, far better, he would have been yet more deserving of God's love and infinite goodness." But it was evidently no use talking, for little Johnie could not be brought to see anything very sad in dying; he saw not death as separating us from friends-tearing us away from the earth, and life we love so well-he saw in it no darkness, no awfulness-he only looked at the bright, happy home to which it led, his thoughts only dwelt on what came after death-the life in heaven. And why, Mary Karnly, should you strive to cloud the boy's sunny vision? why change his bright happy thought into gloomy sadness? Surely death grows dark and fearful to us soon enough, without hastening its approach-or striving to show its sad side to our children? 66 And now, my darling, you must go and fetch little Alice home from school," said Mrs. Karnly, wishing to be questioned no longer, and come round through the fields, and gather some flowers for me and father; the walk will do you good, Johnie dear, you look very pale, you've been much too thoughtful and serious to-day." Reluctantly little Johnie prepared to obey. His father, who had listened unobserved to their talk, came and kissed him, saying, with a kind smile that gladdened the boy's heart, they would come and meet them. "What strange thoughts come into that boy's head, wife," said Paul, as they slowly wended their way up the hill. "He looks very pale and thin, poor child," said Mary sadly. "Strange thoughts they are indeed, husband, but don't you think there is much truth, too? Why should we mourn so bitterly for the dead? and what right have we to pity them? where are our riches that we call them poor?" "What! wife, is not life valuable in your sight, and the loss of it to be mourned? Life! is it not an exceeding rich and precious gift! Oh, Mary, what is like unto it? This keen sense of beingof Life-is the most valuable, most glorious possession God has granted us!" "True, true, Paul," said Mary, earnestly, "for without it we had never been. You misunderstood me; it is not that I do not hold life dear, but rather because I value it so highly that I think we can't afford to pity those who have died; for have we not every reason to believe they are enjoying fuller, purer life? And in this faith may not all really brave, true souls, say with the apostle, to die is gain?"" "Certainly all who here have lived faithfully and earnestly may say so and feel so, but I fear the 'all' is very small. And even for those who do feel so, and we are sure if any do our Gilbert did most fervently—for these must there not be some pang experienced in leaving this life; an awfulness in going onwards into the unknown world; and some sorrow in separating from those with whom we are bound in the closest chains of friendship and love? Oh! how unspeakably sad to think of Gilbert dying untended in that foreign |