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