ted to him by
Daniel; but, neglecting the warning, "his heart was changed from man's,
and a beast's heart was given to him." He was afflicted with a madness
which made him think himself a beast, and, acting as such, he remained
constantly abroad in the fields, living upon wild herbs. In this debased
and forlorn condition the mighty conqueror remained seven years, when he
was restored to his reason and his throne, and one of his first acts was
to issue a proclamation, humbly acknowledging the signs and wonders
which the Most High God had wrought toward him, and declaring his
conviction, that "those who walk in pride he is able to abase." He died
soon after.
The next illustration is drawn from the interpretation of the dream in
the royal palace. Conscious of Jehovah's favor and guidance, how
courageously and grandly he stands before the monarch, and declares the
whole counsel of God!
He thus became a prophet of the Most High, whose wonderful career
afterwards, we shall again follow, when we come to the narratives of the
seers.
[Illustration: The vision of the Dragon Chained.]
The spirit alienation from God, and of depraved desires, which ruled the
ancient pagan realms is set before us under various titles. Among them
is that of the dragon, in the engraving; which the "king of kings" shall
yet bind forever and imprison.
The fate of the proud kingdoms which ruled Palestine, teaches the world
how little importance God attaches to human glory in his punishment of
the wicked.
Egypt has scarcely more than its location and name left. Its pyramids,
one of which it is estimated employed three hundred thousand men twenty
years in building, stand in the desert places, solitary and pillaged
sepulchres.
The temple of Karnak, on the east bank of the Nile, whose massive stone
roof was supported by one hundred and thirty-four majestic columns,
forty-three feet high, and ranged in sixteen rows; the whole structure
twelve hundred feet in length, and covered with figures of gods and
heroes; is one of the grandest works of time.
Should you visit the gorges of the Theban Mountains, your feet would
stumble over the bones of departed generations. Princes, priests, and
warriors, after reposing thousands of years in their deep seclusion, are
dragged forth by poor peasants, and scattered around the doors of those
cavern-like excavations in the everlasting hills.
Lighting a torch or candle, you may wander along the rock-wal
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