Notes on the Old and New Testaments

14. So he consented to them in this mat ter. Heb., ' he heard them in this thing.' The experiment was such, since it was to be for so short a time, that he ran little risk in the matter, as it the end of the ten days he supposed that it would be easy to change their mode of diet if the trial was unsuccessful.

15. And at the end of ten days their countenances appeared fairer. Heb., 'good;' that is, they appeared more beau tiful and healthful. The experiment was successful. There was no diminution of beauty, of vigour, or of the usual indica tions of health. One of the results of a course of temperance appears in the coun tenance, and it is among the wise ap pointments of God that it should be so. He has so made us, that while the other parts of the body may be protected from the gaze of men, it is necessary that the face should be exposed. Hence he has made the countenance the prin cipal seat of expression, for the chief muscles which indicate expression have their location there. See the valuable work of Sir Charles Bell on " The Anatomy of Expression." London, 1844. Hence there are certain marks of guilt and vice which always are indicated in the countenance. God has so made us that the drunkard and the glutton must proclaim their own guilt and shame. The bloated face, the haggard aspect, the look of folly, the "heaviness of the eye, the disposition to squint, and to see double, and a forcible elevation of the eyebrow to counteract the dropping of the upper eye lid, and preserve the eyes from closing," are all marks which God has appointed to betray and expose the life of indul gence. Arrangements are made for theso expressions in the very anatomy of the face, and no art of man can prevent it. Bell, on the Anatomy of Expression, p. 106. God meant that if man would be intemperate he should himself proclaim it to the world, and that his fellow-men should be apprized of his guilt. This was intended to be one of the safeguards of virtue. The young man who will be in temperate knows what the result must be. He is apprized of it in the loathsome aspect of every drunkard whom he meets. He knows that if he yields himself to in dulgence in intoxicating drink, he must soon proclaim it himself to the wide world. No matter how beautiful, or fresh, or blooming, or healthful, he may now be; no matter how bright the eye, or ruddy the cheek, or eloquent the tongue, the eye, and the cheek, and the tongue, will soon become indices of his manner of life, and the loathsomeness and offensiveness of the once beautiful and blooming

16 Thus Melzar took away the portion of their meat, and the wine

countenance must pay the penalty of his folly. And in like manner, and for the same reason, the countenance is an indi cation of temperance and purity. The bright and steady eye, the blooming cheek, the lips that eloquently or grace fully utter the sentiments of virtue, pro claim the purity of the life, and are the natural indices to our fellow men that we live in accordance with the great and benevolent laws of our nature, and are among the rewards of temperance and virtue.

16. Thus Melzar tools aieay the portion of their meat, &c. Doubtless permanently. The experiment had been satisfactory, and it was inferred that if the course of temperance could be practised for ten days without unhappy results, there would be safety in suffering it to be continued. We may remark on this: I. That the ex periment was a most important one, not only for the object then immediately in view, but for furnishing lessons of per manent instruction adapted to future times. It was worth one such trial, and it was desirable to have one such illustra tion of the effect of temperance recorded. There are so strong propensities in our nature to indulgence; there are so many temptations set before the young; there is so much that allures in a luxurious mode of life, and so much of conviviality and happiness is supposed to be connected with the social glass, that it was well to have a fair trial made, and that the result should be recorded for the instruction of "uture times. II. It was especially de- -..rable that the experiment should be made of the effect of strict abstinence from the use of wine. Distilled liquors were indeed then unknown; but alcohol, the intoxicating principle in all ardent spirits, then existed, as it does now, in wine, and was then, as it is now, of the same nature as when found in other sub stances. It was in the use of wine that the principal danger of intemperance then lay; and it may be added, that in refer ence to a very large class of persons of both sexes, it is in the use of wine that the principal danger always lies. There are multitudes, especially of young men, who are in little or no danger of becoming intemperate from the use of the stronger

that they should drink; and gave them pulse.

kinds of intoxicating drinks. They would never begin with them. But the use of wine is so respectable in the view of the upper classes of society; it is deemed so essential to the banquet; it constitutes so much, apparently, a mark of distinction, from the fact that ordinarily only the rich can afford to indulge in it; its use is regarded extensively as so proper for even refined and delicate females, and is so often sanctioned by their participating in it; it is so difficult to frame an argument against it that will be decisive; there is so much that is plausible that may be said in favour or in justification of its use, and it is so much sanctioned by the ministers of religion, and by those of influence in the churches, that one of the principal dangers of the young arises from the temptation to indulgence in wine, and it was well that there should be a fair trial of the com parative benefit of total abstinence. A trial could scarcely have been made un der better circumstances than in the case before us. There was every inducement to indulgence which is ever likely to occur; there was as much to make it a mere matter of principle to abstain from it as can be found now in any circum stances, and the experiment was as tri umphant and satisfactory as could be desired. III. The result of the experi ment, (a) It was complete and satisfac tory. More was accomplished in the matter of the trial by abstinence than by indulgence. Those who abstained were more healthful, more beautiful, more vigorous than the others. And there was nothing miraculous — nothing that occur red in that case which docs not occur in similar cases. Sir J. Chardin remarks, respecting those whom he had seen in the East, " that the countenances of the kechicks [monks] are in fact more rosy and smooth than those of others; and that those who fast much, I mean the Arme nians and the Greeks, are, notwithstand ing, very beautiful, sparkling wit1* health, with a clear and lively countenance." He also takes notice of the very great abstemiousness of the Brahmins in the Indies, who lodge on the ground, abstain from music, from all sorts of agreeable smells, who go very meanly clothed, are almost always wet, either by going intc water, or by rain, "yet," says he, " I have Been also many of them very handsome and healthful." Haruiar's Observa. ii. pp. 112, 113. (b) The experiment has often, been made, and with equal success, in modern times, and especially since the commencement of the temperance re formation, and an opportunity has been given of furnishing the most decisive proofs of the effects of temperance in con trast with indulgence in the use of wine, and of other intoxicating drinks. This experiment has been made on a wide scale, and with the same result. It is demonstrated, as in the case of Daniel, that " MORE" will be secured of that which men are so anxious usually to obtain, and of that which it is desirable to obtain, than can be by indulgence. (1.) There will be "more" beauty of personal appearance. Indulgence in intoxicating drinks leaves its traces on the countenance — the skin, the eye, the nose, the whole expression — as God meant it should. See Notes on ver. 15. No one can hope to retain beauty of complexion or countenance who in dulges freely in the use of intoxicating drinks. (2.) "More" clearness of mind and intellectual vigour can be secured by abstinence than by indulgence. It is true that, as was often the case with Byron and Burns, stimulating drinks may excite the mind to brilliant temporary efforts; but the effect soon ceases, and the mind makes a compensation for its over-worked powers by sinking down below its proper level as it had been excited above. It will demand a penalty in the exhausted energies, and in the incapacity for even its usual efforts, and unless the exhausting stimulus be again applied, it cannot rise even to its usual level, and when often applied, the mind is divested of all its elasticity and vigour: the physical frame loses its power to endure the excitement; and the light of genius is put out, and the body sinks to the grave. He who wishes to make the most of his mind in the long run, whatever genius he may be endowed with, will be a temperate man. His powers will be retained uniformly at a higher elevation, and they will maintain their balance and their vigour longer. (3.) The same is true in regard to every thing which requires vigour of body. The Roman soldier, who carried his eagle around the world, and who braved the dangers of every ciime — equally bold and vigorous, and hardy, and daring amidst 9* polar snows, and the burning sands of the equator, was a stranger to intoxicating drinks. He was allowed only vinegai and water, and his extraordinary vigoui was the result of the most abstemious fare. The wrestlers in the Olympiac and I&thmian games, who did as much to give suppleness, vigour, and beauty to the body, as could be done by the most care ful training, abstained from the use of wine and all that would enervate. Since the temperance reformation commenced in this land, the experiment has been made in every way possible, and it has been settled that a man will do more work, and do it better; that he can bear more fatigue, can travel farther, can better endure the severity of cold in the winter, and of toil in the heat of summer, by strict temperance, than he can if he in dulges in the use of intoxicating drinks. Never was the result of an experiment more uniform than this has been; never has there been a case where the testimony of those who have had an opportunity of witnessing it, was more decided and harmonious; never was there a question in regard to the effect of a certain course on health in which the testimony of phy sicians have been more uniform; and never has there been a question in regard to the amount of labour which a man could do, on which the testimony of re spectable farmers, and master mechanics, and overseers of public works, could be more decided. (4) The full force of these remarks about temperance in general, applies to the use of wine. It was in respect to m'nc that the experiment before us was made, and it is this which gives it, in a great degree, its value and import ance. Distilled spirits were then un known, but it was of importance that a fair experiment should be made of the effect of abstinence from wine. The great danger of intemperance, taking the world at large, has been, and is still, from the use of wine. This danger affects par ticularly the upper classes in society, and young men. It is by the use of wine, in a great majority of instances, that the peril commences, and that the habit of drinking is formed. Let it be remem bered, also, that the intoxicating princi ple is the same in wine as in any other drink that produces intemperance. It is alcohol — the same substance precisely, whether it be driven off by heat from wine, beer, or cider, and condensed by

17 As for these four children, God gave them knowledge and skill in all learning and wisdom: and

distillation, or whether it remain in these liquids without being distilled. It is neither more or less intoxicating in one form than it is in the other. It is only more condensed and concentrated in one case than in the other; better capable of preservation, and more convenient for purposes of commerce. Every principle, therefore, which applies to the temperance cause at all applies to the use of wine; and every consideration derived from health, beauty, vigour, length of days, reputation, property, or salvation, which should induce a young man to abstain from ardent spirits at all should induce him to abstain, as Daniel did, from the use of wine.

17. As for these four children. On the word children, see Notes on ver. 4. Comp. ver. 6. 5[ @°d ffave them knowledge and skill. See Notes on ver. 9. There is no reason to suppose that in the "knowledge and skill" here referred to, it is meant to be implied that there was anything miraculous, or that there was any direct inspiration. Inspiration was evidently confined to Daniel, and pertained to what is spoken of under the head of "visions and dreams." The fact that all this was to be attributed to God as his gift, is in accordance with the common method of speaking in the Scriptures; and it is also in accordance with fact, that all know ledge is to be traced to God. See Ex. xxxi. 2, 3. God formed the intellect; he preserves the exercise of reason; he fur nishes us instructors; he gives us clear ness of perception; he enables us to take advantage of bright thoughts and happy suggestions which occur in our own minds, as much as he sends rain, and dew, and sunshine on the fields of the husbandman, and endows him with skill. Comp. Isa. xxviii. 26, " For his God doth instruct him." The knowledge and skill which we may acquire, therefore, should be as much attributed to God as the suc cess of the farmer should. Comp. Job xxxii. 8, " For there is a spirit in man, and the inspiration of the Almighty giveth them understanding." In the case before us, there is no reason to doubt that the natural powers of these young men had been diligently applied during the three

a Daniel had understanding in all visions and dreams.

years of their trial (ver. 5), and under tho advantages of a strict course of tem perance, and that the knowledge here spoken of was the result of such an appli cation to their studies. On the meaning of the words "knowledge" and "skill" here, see Notes on ver. 4. ^[ In all learn ing, and wisdom. See also Notes on ver. 4. |f And Daniel had understanding. Show ing that in that respect there was a special endowment in his case; a kind of knowledge imparted which could be com municated only by special inspiration. The margin is, he made Daniel under stand. The margin is in accordance with the Hebrew, but the sense is the same. ^[ In all visions. On the word rendered visions — prn, — see Notes on Isa. i. 1, and Intro, to Isaiah, $ 7, -(4). It is a term frequently employed in reference to prophecy, and designates the usual method by which future events were made known. The prophet was permitted to see those events as if they were made to pass before the eye, and to describe them as if they were objects of sight. Here the word seems to be used to denote all super natural appearances; all that God per mitted him to see that in any way shadowed forth the future. It would seem that men who were not inspired were permitted occasionally to behold such supernatural appearances, though they were not able to interpret them. Thus their attention would be particularly called to them, and they would be pre pared to admit the truth of what the interpreter communicated to them. Comp. ch. iv., ch. v. 5, 6; Gen. xl. 5, xli. 1-7. Daniel was so endowed that he could in terpret the meaning of these mysterious appearances, and thus convey important messages to men. The same endowment had been conferred on Joseph when in Egypt. See the passages referred to in Genesis. ^ And dreams. One of the ways by which the will of God waa anciently communicated to men. See Intro, to Isaiah, $ 7, (2), and Notes on Job xxxiii. 14-18. Daniel, like Joseph before him, was supernaturally endowed to explain these messages which Go£ sent to men, or to unfold these preintima-

18 Now at the end of the days that the king had said he should bring them in, then the prince of the eunuchs brought them in before Nebuchadnezzar.

19 And the king communed with them; and among them all was found none like

tions of coming events. This was a kind of knowledge which the Chaldeans par ticularly sought, and on which they espe cially prided themselves, and it was im portant, in order to " stain the pride of all human glory," and to make " the wis dom of the wise" in Babylon to be seen to be comparative " folly," to endow one man from the land of the prophets in the most ample manner with this knowledge, as it was important to do the same thing at the court of Pharaoh by the superior endowments of Joseph. Gen. xli. 8.

18. Now at the end of the days, <tc. After three years. See ver. 5. «[ The

S-ince of the eunuchs brought them in. aniel, his three friends, and the others who had been selected and trained for the same purpose.

19. And the king communed with than. Heb. 'spake with them.' Probably he conversed with them on the points which had constituted the principal subjects of their studies; or he examined them. It is easy to imagine that this must have been to these young men a severe ordeal. ^[ And among them all was found none like Daniel, &c. Daniel and his three friends had pursued a course of strict temperance; they had come to their daily task with clear heads and pure hearts — free from the oppression and lethargy of surfeit, and the excitement of wine; they had prosecuted their studies in the enjoy ment of fine health, and with the buoyousness and elasticity of spirit produced by temperance, and they now showed tho result of such a course of training. Young men of temperance, other things being equal, Avill greatly surpass others in their preparation for the duties of life in any profession or calling. ^[ Therefore stood they before the king. It is not said, indeed, that the others were not permitted also to stand before the monarch, but the object of the historian is to trace the means by which these youths rose to such eminence and virtue. It is clear, how ever, that whatever may have been the result on the others, the historian means to say that these young men rose to

Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah: therefore stood they before the king.

20 And * in all matters of wisdom *and understanding, that the king inquired of them, he found them ten times better than all the magicians and astrologers that were in all his realm.

higher eminence than they did, and were permitted to stand nearer the throne. The phrase " stood before the king," is one which denotes elevated rank. They were employed in honourable offices at the court, and received peculiar marks of the royal favour.

20. And in all matters of wisdom and understanding. Marg. ' of.' The Hebrew is, ' Everything of wisdom of understand ing.' The Greek, * In all things of wis dom and knowledge.' The meaning is, in everything which required peculiar wisdom to understand and explain it. The points submitted were such as would ap propriately come before the minds of the sages and magicians who were employed as counsellors at court. ^ He found them ten times better. Better counsellors; bet ter informed. Heb. ' ton hands above the magicians;' that is, ten times, or many times. In this sense the word ten is used in Gen. xxxi. 7. 41; Num. xiv. 22; Neh. iv. 12; Job xix. 3. They greatly surpassed them. ^ Than all the magi cians. Gr. roijf £7raoi<5o{if. The Greek word means those singing to; then those who propose to heal the sick by singing; then those who practice magical arts or incantations — particularly with the idea of charming with songs; and then those who accomplish anything surpassing human power by mysterious and supernatural means. Passow. The Hebrew word a'DS^n — hhartummim — occurs only in the following places in the Scriptures, in all of which it is rendered magicians, Gen. xli. 8, 24; Ex. vii. 11, 22, vii. 7 (3), 18 (14), 19 (15), ix. 11; Dan. i. 22, ii. 2. From this it appears that it applied only to the magicians in Egypt and in Babylon, and doubtless substantially the same class of persons is referred to. It is found only in the plural number, perhaps implying that they formed companies, or that they were always associated together, so that different persons performed different parts in their incantations. The word is defined by Gesenius to mean, "Sacred scribes, skilled in the sacred writings or hiero- glyphics — tepoypapijiartis — a class of Egyp tian priests." It is, according to him (Lex.), of Hebrew origin, and is derived fromB?n, hhcret, stylus — an instrument of writing, and D — formative. It is not improbable, he suggests, that the He brews with these letters imitated a similar Egyptian word. Prof. Stuart (in Joe.) says that the word would be correctly translated pen-men, and supposes that it originally referred to those who were " busied with books and writing, and skilled in them." It is evident that the word is not of Persian origin, since it was used in Egypt long before it occurs in Daniel. A full and very interesting account of the Magians and their reli gion may be found in Creuzer, Mytliologie und Symbolik, i. pp. 187-234. Herodotus mentions the Magi as a distinct people, i. 101. The word Mag or Mog (whence the piiyoi — magoi, — of the Greeks, and the magi of the Romans), means properly a priest; and at a very early period the names Chaldeans and Magi were inter changeable, and both were regarded as of the same class. Creuzer, i. 187, note. They were doubtless, at first, a class of priests among the Medes and Persians, who were employed, among other things, in the search for wisdom; who were con nected with heathen oracles; who claimed acquaintance with the will of the gods, and who professed to have the power, therefore, of making known future events, by explaining dreams, visions, preter natural appearances, &c. The Magi form ed one of the six tribes into which the Medes were formerly divided (Herodotus, i. 101), but on the downfall of the Median empire, they continued to retain at the court of the conqueror a great degree of power and authority. " The learning of the Magi was connected Avith astrology and enchantment, in which they were so celebrated that their name was applied to all orders of magicians and enchanters." Anthon, Class. Die. These remarks may explain the reason why the word magician comes to be applied to this class of men, though we are not to suppose that the persons referred to in Genesis and Ex odus, under the appellation of the Hebrew name there given to them (O'Etyvi), or those found in Babylon, referred to in the passage before us, to whom the same name is applied, were of that class of t.rirsty. The name magi, or magician, was so extended as to embrace all wht made pretensions to the kind of know, ledge for which the magi were distinguish-, ed, and hence caiae also to be synonymous with the Chaldeans, who were also cele brated for this. Comp. Notes on ch. ii. 2. In the passage before us, it cannot be determined with certainty that the per sons were of Magian origin, though it is possible, as in ch. ii. 2, they are distinguished from the Chaldeans. All that is certainly meant is, that they were per sons who laid claim to the power of diving into future events; of explaining mysteries; of interpreting dreams; of working by enchantments, &c. ^[ And astrologers. O^rxn. This word is ren dered by the LXX, ^uyovj — magians. So, also, in the Vulgate — magos. The English word astrologer denotes "one who pro fesses to foretell future events by the aspects and situation of the stars." Web' ster. The Hebrew word — 0 ^N — ac cording to Gesenius, means enchanters, magicians. It is derived, probably, from the obsolete root T^> to cover, to con ceal, and refers to those who were de voted to the practice of occult arts, and to the cultivation of recondite and cabalistic sciences. It is supposed by some philo logists to have given rise, by dropping the initial N, to the Greek ao/»oj, icise, wise man, and the Persian Sophi, an epithet of equivalent import. See Gesenius on the word, and comp. Bush on Dan. ii. 2. The word is found only in Daniel, ch. i. 20, ii. 2, 10, 27, iy. 7 (4), v. 7, 11, 15, in every instance rendered astrologer, and astrologers. There is no evidence, how ever, that the science of astrology enters into the meaning of the word, or that the persons referred to attempted to practice divination by the aid of the stars. It is to be regretted that the term astrologer should have been employed in our translation, as it conveys an intima tion which is not found in the original. It is, indeed, in the highest degree pro bable, that a part of their pretended wis dom consisted in their ability to cast the fates of men by the conjunctions and op position of the stars, but this is not neces sarily implied in the word. Prof. Stuart renders it inchanters. *[/» ail his realm Not only in the capital, but throughout the kingdom. These arts were doubt less practised extensively elsewhere, but it is probable that the most skilful

21 And Daniel continued a even

a Ch. 6. 28, 10. 1. Ho lived to see that glo rious time of the return of his people from the

21. And Daniel continued even unto the first year of king Cyrus. When the proclamation was issued by him to re build the temple at Jerusalem. Ezra. i. 1. That is, he continued in influence and authority, at different times, dui'ing that period, and, of course, during the whole of the seventy year's captivity. It is not necessarily implied that he did not live longer, or even that he ceased then to have influence and authority at court, but the object of the writer is to show that, during that long and eventful period, he occupied a station of influence, until the captivity was accomplished, and the royal order was issued for rebuilding the tem ple. He was among the first of the cap tives that were taken to Babylon, and he lived to see the end of the captivity — " the joyful day of Jewish freedom." Prof. Stuart. It is commonly believed that when the captives returned, he remained in Chaldea, probably detained by his high employments in the Persian empire, and that he died either at Babylon or at Shusan. Comp. the Intro. § 1.

In view of the exposition given of this chapter, the following remarks may be made: — (1.) There is in every period of the world, and in every place, much obscure and buried talent that might be cultivated and brought to light, as there arc many gems in earth and ocean that are yet undiscovered. Notes on vs. 1-4. "Among these captive youths — prisoners of war — in a foreign land, and as yet unknown, there was most rich and varied talent — talent that was destined yet to shine at the court of the most magnificent monarchy of the ancient world, and to be honoured as among the brightest that the world has seen. And so in all places, and at all times, there is much rich and varied genius, which might shine with great brilliancy, and per form important public services, if it were cultivated, and allowed to develop itself on the great theatre of human affairs. Thus in obscure rural retreats there may be bright gems of intellect; in the low haunts of vice there may be talent that would charm the world by the beauty of song, or the power of eloquence; among slaves there may be mind which, if emancipated, would take its place in the brightest constellations of genius. The great endowments of Moses as a lawgiver, a prophet, a profound statesman, sprang from an enslaved people, as those of Daniel did; and it is not too much to say that the brightest talent of the earth has been found in places of great obscurity, ajid where, but for some remarkable dispensation of Providence, it might have remained for ever unknown. This thought has been immortalized by Gray: —

The little tyrant of the fields withstood; Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest; Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood."

There is at any time on the earth talent enough created for all that there is to be done in any generation; and ther^ is always enough for talent to accomplish if it were employed in the pur poses for which it wa8 oiininally adapted. There need be at no time any wasted or unoccupied miiiu; and there need be no great and good plan that should fail for the want of talent fitted to accomplish it if that which actually exists on the earth were called into action.

(2.) He does a great service to the world who seeks out such talent, and gives it an oppor tunity to accomplish what it is fitted to, by furnishing it the means of an education. Ver. 3. Nebuchadncz/.ar unconsciously, and doubtless undesignedly, did a great service to mankind by his purpose to seek out the talent of the Hebrew captives, and giving it an opportunity to ex pand, and to ripen into usefulness. Daniel has taken his place among the prophets and states men of the world as a man of rare endowments, and of equally rare integrity of character. He has, under the leading of the divine Spirit, done more than most other prophets to lift the mys terious veil which shrouds the future; more than could have been done by the penetrating sagacity of all the Burkes, the Cannings, and the Metternichs of the world. So far as human appearances go, all this might have remained in obscurity, if it had not been for the pur pose of the Chaldean monarch to bring forward into public notice the obscure talent which lay hid among the Hebrew captives. He always does a good service to mankind who seeks out bright and promising genius, and who gives it the opportunity of developing itself with ad- 7»ntago on the great theatre of human affairs.

(3.) We cannot but admire the arrangements of Providence by >hich this was done. Notes on vs. 1-4. This occurred in connection with the remarkable purpose of a heathen monarch — a man who, perhaps more than any other heathen ruler, has furnished an illustration of th« truth that " the king's heart is in the hand of the Lord." That purpose was, to raise to emi nence and influence the talent that might be found among the Hebrew captives. There can bo no doubt that the hand of God was in this; that there was a secret divine influence on his mind, unknown to him. which secured this result; and that while he was aiming at one result, God was designing to secure another. There was thus a double influence on his mind: (1.) that which arose from the purpose of the monarch himself, originated by considerations of policy, or contemplating the aggrandizement and increased splendour of his court; and (2.) the secret and silent influence of God, shaping the plans of the monarch to the ends which He, had in view. Comp. Notes on Isa. x. 5, seq.

(4.) As it is reasonable to suppose that these young men had been trained up in the strict principles of religion and temperance (vs. 8-12), the case before us furnishes an interesting illustration of the temptations to which those who are early trained in the ways of piety are often exposed. Every effort seems to have been made to induce them to abandon the principles in which they had been educated, and there was a strong proba bility that those efforts would be successful, (a) They were among strangers, far away from the homes of their youth, and surrounded by the allurements of a great city. (6) Everything was done which could be done to induce them to forget their own land, and the religion of their fathers, (c) They were suddenly brought into distinguished notice; they attracted the atten tion of the great, and had the prospect of associating with princes and nobles in the most mag nificent court on earth. They had been selected on account of their personal beauty and their intellectual promise, and were approached, therefore, in a form of temptation to which youths are commonly most sensitive, and to which they are commonly most liable to yield, (d) They were far away from the religious institutions of their country; from the public services of tho sanctuary; from the temple; and from all those influences which had been made to bear upon them in early life. It was a rare virtue which could, in these circumstances, withstand the power of such temptations.

(5.) Young men, trained in the-ways of religion, and in the habits of temperance, are often now exposed to similar temptations. They visit the cities of a foreign country, or the cities in their own land. They are surrounded by strangers. They are far away from the sanctuary to which in early life they were conducted by their parents, and in which they were taught tho truths of religion. The eye of that unslumbering vigilance which was upon them in their own land, or in the country neighbourhood where their conduct was known to all, is now withdrawn. No one will know it if they visit the theatre; no one will see them who will make report if they are found in the gambling-room, or the place of dissipation. In those new scenes, new temp tations are around them. They may be noticed, flattered, caressed. They may be invited to places by the refined and the fashionable, from which, when at home, they would have recoiled. Or it may be, prospects of honour and affluence may open upon them, and in the whirl of business or pleasure, they may be under the strongest temptations to forget the lessons of early virtue, and to abandon the principles of the religion in which they were trained. Thousands of young men are ruined in circumstances similar to those in which these youths were placed in Babylon, and amidst temptations much less formidable than those which encompassed them; and it is a rare virtue which makes a young man safe amidst the temptations to which he is ex posed in a great city, or in a distant land.

(6.) We have in this chapter an instructive instance of the value of early training in the prin ciples of religion and temperance. There can be no doubt thr; these young men owed theii safety and their future success wholly to this. Parents, theufore, should be encouraged to train their sons in the strictest principles of religion and virtue. Seed thus sown will not be lost. In a distant land; far away from home, from a parent's eye, from the sanctuary of God; in the midst of temptations, when surrounded by flatterers, by the gay and by the irreligious, such principles will be a safeguard to them which nothing else can secure, and will save them when otherwise they would be engulphed in the vortex of irrcligion and dissipation. The best service which a parent can render to a son, is to imbue his mind thoroughly with the princi ples of temperance and religion.

(7.) We may gee tb» value of a purpose of entire abstinence from the use of wine. Ver. 8. Puiiiel resolved that he would not make use of it as a beverage. His purpose, it would seem, was decided, though he meant to accomplish it by mild and persuasive means if possible. There were good reasons for the formation of such a purpose then, and those reasons are not less weighty now. He never had occasion to regret tho formation of such a purpose; nor has any one who has formed a similar resolution ever had occasion to regret it. Among the reasons for the formation of such a resolution, the following may be suggested: (1.) A fixed resolution in regard to the course which one will pursue; to the kind of life which he will live; to the prin ciples on which he will act, is of inestimable value in a young man. Our confidence in a man is just in proportion as we have evidence that he has formed a steady purpose of virtue, and that he has sufficient strength of resolution to keep it. (2.) The same reasons exist for adopting a resolution of abstinence in regard to the use of wine, which exist for adopting it in relation to the use of ardent spirits; for (a) The intoxicating principle in wine or other fermented liquors is precisely the same as in ardent spirits. It is the result of fermentation, not of distillation, and undergoes no change by distillation. The only effect of that chemical process, is to drive it off by heat, condense, and collect it in a form better adapted to commerce or to preservation, but the alcoholic principle is precisely the same in wine as in distilled liquors. (6) Intoxication itself is the same thing, whether produced hy fermented liquors or by distilled spirits. It pro duces the same effect on the body, on the mind, on the affections. A man who becomes intoxi cated on vrine — as he easily may — is in precisely the same condition, so far as intoxication ig produced, as he who becomes intoxicated on distilled liquors, (c) There is the same kind of danger of becoming intemperate in the use of the one as of the other. The man who habitu ally uses wine is as certainly in danger of becoming a drunkard, as he who indulges in the use of distilled liquors. The danger, too, arises from the same source. It arises from the fact, that he who indulges once will feel induced to indulge again; that a strong and peculiar craving is produced for stimulating liquors; that the body is left in such a state that it demands a repetition of the stimulus; that it is a law in regard to indulgence in this kind of drinks, that an increased quantity is demanded to meet the exhausted state of the system; and that the demand goes on in this increased ratio until there is no power of control, and the man becomes a confirmed inebriate. All these laws operate in regard to the use of "wine as really as to the use of any other intoxicating drinks; and, therefore, there is the same reason for the adoption of a resolution to abstain from all alike, (d) The temptations are often greater in relation to wine than to any other kind of intoxicating drinks. There is a large class of persons in the community who are in comparatively little danger of becoming intemperate from any other cause than this. This remark applies particularly to young men of wealth; to those who move in the more elevated circles; to those who are in college, and to those who are preparing for the learned professions. They are in peculiar danger from this quarter, because it is re garded as genteel to drink a glass of wine; because they are allured by the example of professed Christians, of minister? of the gospel, and of ladies; and because they are often in circumstances in which it would not be regarded as respectable or respectful to decline it. (3.) A third reason for adopting such a resolution is, that it is the ONLY SECURITY that any one can have that he will not become a drunkard. No one who indulges at all in the use of intoxicating liquors, can have any certainty that he will not yet become a confirmed inebriate. Of the great mul titudes who have been, and who are drunkards, there are almost none who meant to sink themselves to that wretched condition. They have become intemperate by indulging in the social glass when they thought themselves safe, and they continued the indulgence until it was too late to recover themselves from ruin. lie who is in the habit of drinking at all can have no security that he may not yet be all that the poor drunkard now is. But he will be certainly safe from this evil if he adopts the purpose of total abstinence, and stead fastly adheres to it. Whatever other dangers await him, he will be secure against this; whatever other calamities he may experience, he is sure that he will escape all those that are caused by intemperance.

(8.) We have in this chapter a most interesting illustration of the value of temperance in eating, vs. 9-17. There are laws of our nature relating to the quantity and quality of food, which can no more be violated with impunity than any other of the laws of God; and yet those laws are probably more frequently violated than any other. There are more persons intemperate in the use of food than in the use of drink, and probably more diseases engendered, and more lives cut short, by improper indulgence in eating than in drinking. At the same time it is a more base, low, gross, and beastly passion. A drunkard is very often the wreck of a generous and noble-minded nature. He was large-hearted, open, free, liberal, and others took advantage of his generosity of disposition, and led him on to habits of intoxication. But there is nothing noble or generous in the gourmand. He approximates more nearly to the lowest forms of the brutal creation than any other human being; and if there is any man who should be looked on with feelings of unutterable loathing, it is he whc wastes his vigour, and destroys his health, by gross indulgence in eating. There is almost nc sin that God speaks of in tones of more decided abhorrence than the sin of gluttony. Cornp. Deut. xxi. 20, 21; Ps. cxli. 4; Prov. xxiii. 1, 2, 3, 20, 21; Luke xvi. 19, xxi. 34.

(9.) We have, in the close of the chapter before us, a most interesting illustration of the effect of an early course of strict temperance on the future character and success in life, TS. 17-21. The trial in the case of these young men was fairly made. It was continued through three years; a period long enough for a fair trial; a period long enough to make it an interesting example to young men who are pursuing a course of literary studies, who are preparing to enter one of the learned professions, or who are qualifying themselves for a life of mechanical or agricultural pursuits. In the case of these young men, they were strictly on probation, and the result of their probation was seen in the success which attended them when they passed the severe examination before the monarch (ver. 19), and in the honours which they reached at his court, vs. 19-21. To make this case applicable to other young men, and useful to them, we may notice two things: the fact that every young man is on pro bation; and the effect of an early course of temperance in securing the object of that pro bation.

(a) Every young man is on probation; that is, his future character and success are to be determined by what he is when a youth. (1.) All the great interests of the world are soon to pass into the hands of the young. They who now possess the property, and fill the offices of the land, will pass away. Whatever there is that is valuable in liberty, science, art, or religion, will pass into the hands of those who are now young. They will preside in the seminaries of learning; will sit down on the benches of justice; will take the vacated seats of senators; will occupy the pulpits in the churches; will be entrusted with all the offices of honour and emolu ment; will be ambassadors to foreign courts; and will dispense the charities of the land, and carry out and complete tin designs of Christian benevolence. There is not an interest of liberty, religion, or law, which will not soon be committed to them. (2.) The world is favourably dis posed towards young men, and they who are now entrusted with these great interests, and who are soon to leave them, are ready calmly to commit them to the guardianship of the rising generation, as soon as they have the assurance that they are qualified to receive the trust They, therefore, watch with intense solicitude, the conduct of those to whom so great interests are so soon to be committed. (3.) Early virtue is indispensable to a favourable result of the pro bation of young men. A merchant demands evidence of integrity and industry in a young man before he will admit him to share his business, or will give him credit; and the same tiling is true respecting a farmer, mechanic, physician, lawyer, or clergyman. No young man can hope to have the confidence of others, or to succeed in his calling, who does not give evidence that he is qualified for success by a fair probation or trial. (4.) Of no young man is it presumed that he is qualified to be entrusted with these great and momentous interests until he has had a fair trial. There is no such confidence in the integrity of young men, or in their tendencies to virtue, or in their native endowments, that the world is willing to commit great interests to them without an appropriate probation. No advantage of birth or blood can secure this; and no young man should presume that the world will be ready to confide in him until he has shown that he ia qualified for the station to which he aspires. (5.) Into this probation, through which every young man is passing, the question of temperance enters perhaps more deeply than anything else respecting character. "With reference to his habits on this point, every young man is watched with an eagle eye, and his character is well » nderstood, when perhaps he least sus pects it. The public cannot be deceived on this point, and every young man may be assured that there is an eye of unslumbering vigilance upon him.

(6) The effect of an early course of temperance on the issue of this probation. This is seen in the avoidance of a course of life which would certainly blast every hope; and in its positive in fluence on the future destiny.

1. The avoidance of certain things which would blast every hope which a young man could cherish. There are certain evils which a young man will certainly avoid by a course of strict temperance, Avhich would otherwise certainly come upon him. They are such as these: (a) Po verty, as arising from this source. He may, indeed, be poor if he is temperate. lie may lose his health, or may meet with losses, or may" be unsuccessful in business: but he is certain that he will never be made poor from intemperance. Nine-tenths of the poverty in the community is caused by this vice; nine-tenths of all who are in almshouses are sent there as the result of it, but from all this he will be certain that he will be saved. There is a great difference, if a man is poor, between being such as the result of a loss of health, or other Providential dispensations, and being such as the result of intemperance, (b) lie will be saved from committing crime from this cause. About nine-tenths of the crimes that are committed, are the results of intoxicating drinks, and by a course of temperance a man is certain that he will be saved from the commission of all those crimes. Yet if not temperate, no man has any security that he will not commit any one of them. There is nothing in himself to save him from the very worst of them; and every young man who indulges in the intoxicating cup, should reflect that he has no security that he will not be led on to commit the most horrid crimes which ever disgrace humanity, (c) He will certainly be saved from the drunkard's death. He will indeed die. He may die young; for, though temperate, he may be cut down in the vigour of his days. But there is all the difference imaginable between dying as a drunkard, and dying in the ordinary course of nature. It would be a sufficient inducement for any one to sign a tem perance pledge, and to adhere to it, if there were no other, that he might avoid the horrors of a death by delirium tremens, and saved from the loathsomeness of a drunkard's grave. It is much for a young man to be able to say as he enters on life, and looks out on the future with solicitude as to what is to come, ' Whatever may await me in the unknown future, of this one thing I am certain; I shall never be poor, and haggard, and wretched, as the drunkard is. I shall never commit the crimes to which drunkenness prompts. I shall never experience the un utterable horrors of delirium tremens. I shall never die the death of unequalled wretchedness caused by mania a potu. Come what may, I see, on the threshold of life, that I am to be free from the worst evils to which man is ever exposed. If I am poor, I will not be poor as th« victim of intemperance is. If I die early, the world will not feel that it is benefitted by my removal, and my friends will not go forth to my grave with the unutterable anguish which a parent has who follows a drunken son to the tomb.'

2. A course of temperance will have a direct and positive effect on the issue of such a proba tion. So it had in the case of the yoving men in the chapter before us; and so it will have in. every case. Its effect will be seen in the beauty, and healthfuliicss, and vigour of the bodily frame; in the clearness of the intellect, and the purity of the heart; in habits of industry, in general integrity of life, and in rendering it more probable that the soul will be saved. In no respect whatever, will a steadfast adherance to the principles of temperance injure any young man; in every respect, it may be the means of promoting his interests in the present life, and of securing his final happiness in the world to come. "Why, then, should any young man hesitate about forming such a resolution as Daniel did (ver. 8), and about expressing, in every proper way, in the most decided manner, his determined purpose to adhere through life to the strictest principles of temperance?

THE objections to the authenticity and credibility of this chapter are not numerous or im portant.

I. The first that is alleged, by Bertholdt (Com. pp. 192, 193), is, substantially, this, 'that if the account here is true, the records of ancient times could not exhibit a more finished tyrant than Nebuchadnezzar was, if he doomed so many persons to death on.«o flight and foolish an occasion, ver. 5. This cruelty, it is said, is wholly contrary to the general character of Nebuchad nezzar as it is reported to us, and wholly incredible. It is further said that, though it was common in the East to trust in dreams, and though the office of interpreting them was an honourable office, yet no one was so unreasonable, or could be, as to require the interpreter to reveal the dream itself when it was forgotten. The proper office of the interpreter, it is said, •was to interpret the dream, not to tell what the dream was.'

To this objection, which seems to have considerable plausibility, it may be replied: —

(1.) Much reliance was placed on dreams in ancient times, alike among the Hebrews and in the heathen world. The case of Pharaoh will at once occur to the mind; and it need not be Paid that men everywhere relied out dreams, and inquired earnestly respecting them, whether they might not be the appointed means of communication with the spiritual world, and of disclosing what was to occur in the future. There cat be no objection, therefore, to the supposition that this heathen monarch, Nebuchadnezzar, felt all the solicitude which ho is reported to have done respecting the dream which he had. It may be further added, that in the dream itself there is nothing improbable as a dream, for it has all the charac teristics of those mysterious operations of the mind; and, if God ever communicated his will by a dream, or made known future events in this way, there is no absurdity in supposing that he would thus communicate what was to come, to him who was at that time at the head of the empires of the earth, and who was the king over the first of those kingdoms which wero to embrace the world's history for so many ages.

(2.) There is no improbability in supposing that a dream would vanish from the distinct re collection, or that if it had vanished, the mind would be troubled by some vague recollection or impression in regard to it. This often occurs in our dreams now. as in the indistinct recol lection that we have had a pleasant or a frightful dream, when we are wholly unable to recall the dream itself. This often occurs, too, when we would be glad to recover the dream if we could, but when no effort that we can make will recall its distinct features to our minds.

(3.) There was, really, nothing that was unreasonable, absurd, or tyrannical, in the demand which Nebuchadnezzar made on the astrologers, that they should recall the dream itself, and then interpret it. Doubtless he could recollect it if they would suggest it, or at least he could so far recollect it as to prevent their imposing on him; for something like this constantly occurs in the operation of our own minds. When we have forgotten a story, or a piece of history, though we could not ourselves recall it, yet when it is repeated to us, we can then distinctly recollect it, and can perceive that that is the same narrative, for it agrees with all our impres sions in regard to it. Furthermore, though it was not understood to be a part of the office of an interpreter of dreams to recall the dream if it had vanished from the mind, yet Nebuchad nezzar reasoned correctly, that if they could interpret the dream thev ought to be presumed to be able to tell what it was. The one required no more sagacity than the other; and if they •were, as they pretended to be, under the inspiration of the gods in interpreting a dream, it was fair to presume that, under the fame in^ 'ration, they could tell what it was. Comp. Notes on ver. 5. No objection, then, can lie against the authenticity of this chapter from any supposed absurdity in the demand of Nebuchadnezzar. It was not only strictly in accordance with all the just principles of reasoning in the case, but was in accordance with what might be expected from an arbitrary monarch who was accustomed to exact obedience in all things.

(4.) What is here said of the threatening of Nebuchadnezzar (ver. 5.) accords with the genera-1 traits of hii character as history has preserved them. lie had in him the elements of cruelty and severity of the highest order, especially when his will was not immediately complied with. In proof of this we need only refer to his cruel treatment of the king Zedekiab, when Jerusalem was taken: "So they took the king, and brought him to the king of L-abylon, to Kiblah, and they gave judgment upon him. And they slew the sons of Zedekiah before his eyes, and put out the eyes of Zedekiah, and bound him with fetters of brass, and brought him to Babylon." 2 Kings xxv. 6, 7; comp. also, in vs. 18-21 of the same chapter, the account of his slaying the large number of persons that were taken by Nebuzar adan. captain of the guard, und brought by him to the king in Babylon. These were slain in cold blood by order of Nebuchad nezzar himself. These facts make it every way probable that, in a fit of passion, lie would no/ hesitate to threaten the astrologers with death if they did not comply at once with his will. Comp. Jer. xxxix. 5, seq., lii. 9-11. The truth was, that though Nebuchadnezzar had some ijood qua' L.CS, and was religious in his way. yet he had all the usual characteristic* of aa

Oriental despot. He was a man of strong passions; and 'was a man who would never hesitate in carrying out the purposes of an arbitrary, a determined, and a stubborn will.

II. A second objection made by Bertholdt, which may demand a moment's notice, is, substan tially, that the account bears the mark of a later hand, for the purpose of conferring a highe» honour on Daniel, and making what he did appear the more wonderful. Pp. 62, 63, 193-196 Tlie supposition of Bertholdt is, that the original account was merely that Nebuchadnezzar required of the interpreter to explain the sense of the dream, but that, in order to show the greatness of Daniel, the author of this book, long after the affair occurred, added the circum stance that Nebuchadnezzar required of them to make the dream known as well as the inter pretation, and that the great superiority of Daniel was shown by his being able at once to do this.

As this objection, however, is not based on any historic grounds, and as it is throughout mere conjecture, it is not necessary to notice it further. Nothing is gained by the conjecture; no difficulty is relieved by it; nor is there any real difficulty to be relieved by any such suppo sition. The narrative, as we have it, has, as we have seen, no intrinsic improbability, nor is there anything in it which is contrary to the well-known character of Nebuchadnezzar.

III. A third objection to the authenticity of the chapter which deserves to be noticed, is urged by Liiderwald, pp. 40, seq., and Bleek, p. 280. that this whole narrative has a strong re semblance to the account of the dreams of Pharaoh, and the promotion of Joseph at the court of Egypt, and was apparently made up from that, or copied from it.

But to this we may reply, (a) That, if either happened, there is no more improbability in supposing that it should happen to Daniel in Babylon than to Joseph in Egypt; and taken as separate and independent histories neither of them is improbable, (b) There is so much diversity in the two cases as to show that the one is not, copied from the other. They agree, indeed, in several circumstances: — in the fact that the king of Egypt and the king of Babylon had each a dream; in the fact that Joseph and Daniel wert> enabled to interpret the dream; in the fact that they both ascribed the ability to do this not to themselves but to God; and in the fact that they were both raised to honour as a consequence of their being able to inter pret the dream. But in nothing else do they agree. The dreams themselves; the occasion; the explanation; the result; the bearing on future events — in these, and in numerous other things, they differ entirely. It may be added, also, that if the one had been copied from tho other, it is probable that there would have been some undesigned allusion by which it could be known that the writer of the one had the other before him, and that he was framing his own narrative from that. But, as a matter of fact, there are no two records in history that have more the marks of being independent and original narratives of real transactions than the account of Joseph in Egypt, and of Daniel in Babylon.

IV. A fourth objection to the account in this chapter, arises from an alleged error in chro nology. For a consideration of this, see Notes on ver. 1.

I. The dream of Nebuchadnezzar. Ver. 1. In accordance with the common belief among the ancients, he regarded this as a divine message. The dream, too, was of such a cha racter as to make a deep impression on his mind, though its distinct features and details had gone from him.

II. The demand of Nebuchadnezzar that the Chaldeans should recall the dream to his recol lection, and expound its meaning. Vs. 2-9. He ordered those whose business it was pro fessedly to give such interpretations, to come into his presence, and to make known tho dream and its meaning. But it would seem that their pretensions went no further than to explain a dream when it was known, and hence they asked respectfully that the king would state the dream in order that they might explain it. The king, in anger, threat ened death if they did not first recall the dream, and then make known the interpreta tion, promising at the same time, ample rewards if they were able to do this. As all this, under divine direction, was designed to communicate important information of future events, it was so ordered that the dream should be forgotten, thus entirely confounding the art of the Chaldeans, and giving an opportunity to Daniel to make the dream and its interpretation known, thus exalting a man from the land of the prophets, and showing that it was not by the skill of the pretended interpreters of dreams that future events could be made known, but that it was only by tho^e who were inspired for that purpose by the true God.

III. The acknowledged failure of the power of the astrologers and Chaldeans. Vs. 10, 11. They admitted that they could not do what was demanded of them. Whatever might be the consequence, they could not even attempt to recall a forgotten dream. And as, though we may be unable to recall such a dream distinctly ourselves, we could easily recognize it if it were stated to us, and os we could not be imposed on by something else that anyone should undertake to make us believe was the real dream, the magicians saw that it was hopeless to attempt to palm a story of their own invention on him. as if that were the real dream, and they therefore acknowledged their inability to comply with the demand of the king.

IV. The decree that they should die. Vs. 12, 13. In this decree, Daniel and his thrc« friendu who had been trained with him at court (ch. i.) were involved, not because they had failed to comply \\\i\\ the demand of the king, for there is the fullest evidence that the subject had not been laid before them, but because they came under the general class of wise men, or counsellors, to whom the monarch looked to explain the prognostics of coming events.

V. Daniel, when apprised of the decree, and the cause of it, went to the king and requested a respite in the execution of the sentence. Vs. 14-16. It would seem that he had the privi lege of access to the king at pleasure. We may presume that he stated that the thing had not in fact been laid before him, though he had become involved in the general sentence, and it is no unreasonable supposition that the king was so much troubled with the dream; that he was so anxious to know its signification; and that he saw so clearly that if the decree was executed, involving Daniel and his friends, all hope of recalling and xinderstanding it would be lost, that he was ready to grasp at any hope, however slender, of being made acquainted with the meaning of the vision. He was willing, therefore, that Daniel should be spared, and that the execution of the decree should be suspended.

VI. In these interesting and solemn circumstances, Daniel and his friends gave them selves to prayer. Ver. 17, 18. Their lives were in danger, and the case was such that they could not be rescued but by a direct divine interposition. There was no power which they had of ascertaining by any human means what was the dream of the monarch, and yet it was indispensable in order to save their lives, that the dream should be made known. God only, they knew, could communicate it to them, and he only, therefore, could save them from death, and in these circumstances of perplexity they availed themselves of the privilege which all the friends of God have — ol carrying their cause at once before his throne.

VII. The secret was revealed to Daniel in a night vision, and he gave utterance to an appropriate song of praise. Vs. 19-23. The occasion was one which demanded such an expression of thanksgiving, and that which Daniel addressed to God was every way worthy of the occasion.

VIII. The way was now prepared for Daniel to make known to the king the dream and the interpretation. Accordingly he was brought before the king, and he distinctly disclaimod any power of himself to recall the dream, or to make known its signification. Vs. 24-30.

X. The effect on Nebuchadnezzar. Vs. 46-49. He recognised the dream; acknowledged that it was only the true God who could have made it known; and promoted Daniel to distinguished honour. In his own honours, Daniel did not forget the virtuous com panions of his youth (ch. i.), and sought for them, now that he was elevated, posts of honourable employment also. Ver. 49.

1 And in the second year of the reign of Nebuchadnezzar, Nebu-

1. And in the second year of the reign of Nebuchadnezzar. There is an appa rent chronological difficulty in this state ment, which has given some perplexity to expositors. It arises mainly from two sources. (1.) That in Jeremiah xxv. i., it is said that the first year of the reign of Nebuchadnezzar corresponded with the fourth year of Jehoiakim, king of Judah, and as the captivity was in the third year of the reign of Jehoiakim (Dan. i. 1), the time here would be the fourth year of the reign of Nebuchadnezzar, instead of the first. (2.) That we learn from ch. i. 5, 18, that Daniel and his three friends had been in Babylon already three years, under a process of training preparatory to their being presented at court, and as the whole narative leads us to suppose that it was after this that Daniel was re garded as enrolled among the wise men (comp. ch. ii. 13, 14), on the supposition that the captivity occurred in the first year of the reign of Nebuchadnezzar, this would bring the time of the dream into the fourth year of his reign. This diffi culty is somewhat increased from the fact that when Nebuchadnezzar went up to besiege Jerusalem he is called " king," and it is evident that he did not go as a lieutenant of the reigning mo narch; or as a general of the Chaldean forces under the direction of another. See 2 Kings xxiv. 1, 11. Various solutions of this difficulty have been proposed, but the true one probably is, that Nebuchad nezzar reigned some time conjointly with his father, Nabopolassar, and, though the title king was given to him, yet the reck oning here is dated from the time when he began to reign alone, and that this was the year of his sole occupancy of the throne. Berosus states that his father, Nabopolasser, was aged and infirm, and that he gave up a part of his army to his { son Nebuchadnezzar, who defeated the

chadnezzar dreamed dreams, wherewith » his spirit was troubled, and his sleep brake from him.

Egyptian host at Carchemish (Circessium) on the Euphrates, and drove Necho out of Asia. The victorious prince then march ed directly to Jerusalem, and Jehoiakim surrendered to him, and this was the be ginning of the seventy years' captivity. See Jahn's History of the Hebrew Com monwealth, p. 134. Nabopolassar pro bably died about two years after that, and Nebuchadnezzar succeeded to the throne. The period of their reigning together was two years, and of course the second year of his single reign would be the fourth of his entire reign; and a reckoning from either would be proper, and would not be misunderstood. Other modes of solution have been adopted, but as this meets the whole difficulty, and is founded on truth, it is unnecessary to refer to them. Comp. Prof. Stuart, on Daniel, Excursus I. pp. 19-30, and Ex cursus II. pp. 32, 33. ^[ Nebuchadnezzar dreamed dreams. The plural is here used, though there is but one dream men tioned, and probably but one is referred to, for Nebuchadnezzar, when speaking of it himself, ver. 3, says, " I have dream ed a dream." In the Latin Vulgate, and in the Greek, it is also in the singular. It is probable that this is a popular use of words, as if one should say, ' I had strange dreams last night/ though per haps but a single dream was intended. Prof. Bush. Among the methods by which God made known future events in ancient times, that by dreams was one of the most common. See Notes on ch i. 17; Intro, to Isaiah, $ 7, (2); comp. Gen. xx. 3, 6, xxxi. 11, xxxvii. 4, 5, 6, xl. 5, xli. 7, 25; 1 Kings iii. 5; Numbers xii. 6; Joel ii. 8; Job xxxiii. 14-16. The belief that the will of heaven was communicated to men by means of dreams, was prevalent throughout the world in ancient times. Hence the striking expression in Homer, II. i. 63 — KOI yap r' ovap EK AIOJ ianv — ihe dream is of Jove. So in the com mencement of his Second Iliad, he repre sents the will of Jupiter as conveyed to Agamemnon by Otipyj, or the dream. So Diog. Laertins makes mention of a dream of Socrates, by which he foretold his death as to happen in three days. This method of communicating the divine will Avas adopted not only in reference to the prophets, but also to those who were strangers to religion, and even to wicked men, as in the case of Pharaoh, Abimelech, Nebuchadnezzar, the butler and baker in Egypt, &c. In every such instance, however, it was necessary, as in the case before us, to call in the aid of a true prophet to interpret the dream, and it was only when thus interpreted, that it took its place among the certain predic tions of the future. One object of com municating the divine will in this manner seems to have been, to fix the attention of the person who had the dream on the subject, and to prepare him to re ceive the communication which God had chosen to make to him. Thus it cannot be doubted that by the belief in dreams entertained by Pharaoh and Nebuchad nezzar, as disclosing future events, and by the anxiety of mind which they ex perienced in regard to the dreams, they were better prepared to receive the com munications of Joseph and Daniel in reference to the future than they could have been by any other method of making known the divine will. They had no doubt that some important communica tion had been made to them respecting the future, and they were anxious to know what it was. They were prepared, therefore, to welcome any explanation which commended itself to them as true, and in this way the servants of the true God had a means of access to their hearts which they could have found in no other way. By what laws it was so regulated that a dream should be known to be a preintimation of coming events, we have now no means of ascertaining. That it is possible for God to have access to the mind in sleep, and to com municate his will in this manner, no one can doubt. That it was, so far as em ployed for that purpose, a safe and certain way, is demonstrated by the results of the predictions thus made in the case of Abimelech, Gen. xx. 3, 6; of Joseph and his brethren, Gen. xxxvii. 4, 5, 6; of Pharaoh, Gen xli. 7, 25; and of the but ler and baker, Gen. xl. 5. It is not, how ever, to be inferred that the same reliance, or that any reliance, is now to be placed on dreams; for were there no other con sideration against such reliance, it would be sufficient that there is no authorised interpreter of the wanderings of the mind

2 Then the king commanded to call the magicians, and the astrolo-

in sleep. God now communicates his truth to the souls of men in other ways. ^[ Wherewith his spirit was troubled. Alike by the unusual nature of the dream, and by the impression which he undoubtedly had that it referred to some important truths pertaining to his king dom and to future times. See vs. 31-361. The Hebrew word here rendered troubled — C>9 — means properly to strike, to beat, to pound; then in Niph., to be moved, or agitated; and also in Hithpa., to be agitated, or troubled. The proper signi fication of the word is that of striking as on an anvil, and then it refers to any severe stroke, or anything which pro duces agitation. The verb occurs only in the following places: Judges xiii. 25, where it is rendered move, and Ps. Ixxvii. 4, (5); Gen xli. 8; Dan. ii. 1, 3, where it is rendered troubled. The noun is of fre quent occurrence. ^[ And his sleep brake from him. II eb. I'1?* *W W&. Lit erally 'His sleep was upon him.' The Greek is, his sleep was from him; i. e. left him. The Vulgate, his sleep fled (fugit) from him. But it may be doubted whether the Hebrew will bear this con struction. Probably the literal construc tion is the true one, by which the sense of the Hebrew —?£ — upon, will be re tained. The meaning then would be, that this remarkable representation oc curred when he was in a profound sleep. It was a dream, and not an of*n -vision. It was such a representation as passes before the mind when the senses are locked in repose, and not such as was made to pass before the minds of the pro phets when they were permitted to see visions of the future, though awake. Comp. Num. xxiv. 4, 16. There is no thing in the words which conveys the idea that there was anything preter natural in the sleep that had come upon Nebuchadnezzar, but the thought is, that all this occurred when he was sound asleep. Prof. Stuart, however, renders this, ' his sleep failed him,5 and so does also Gesenius. Winer renders it, 'his sleep went away from him.' But it seems to me that the more natural idea is that which occurs in the literal translation of the words, that this occurred as a dream, to a state of profound repose.

2. Then the king commanded. That is, when he awoke. The particle rendered then, does not imply that this occurred immediately. When he awoke, his mind was agitated; he was impressed with the belief that he had had an important divine communication; but he could not even recall the dream distinctly, and ho resolved to summon to his presence those whose business it was to interpret what were regarded as prognostics of tho future. ^[ The magicians and the astro logers. These are the same words which occur in ch. i. 20. See Notes on that place, ^f And the sorcerers. Heb. D 'CU'pp. Vulg. rnalefici — sorcerers. Gr. 0ap/ja*oi)j. Syriac, magician. The Hebrew word is derived from *!?'? — Jcaspaph — meaning in Piel, to practise magic; to use magic formulas, or incantations; to mutter; and it refers to the various arts by which those who were addicted to magic prac tised their deceptions. The particular idea in this word would seem to be, that on such occasions some forms of prayers were used, for the word in Syriac means to offer prayers, or to worship. Probably the aid of idol-gods was invoked by such persons when they practised incantations. The word is found only in the following places: once as a verb, 2 Chron. xxxiii. 6, and rendered used witchcraft, and as a participle, rendered sorcerers, in Ex. viL 11, Dan. ii. 2, Mai. iii. 5: and witch in Ex. xxii. 18 (17), Deut. xviii. 10. The noun *l'f 2, and a'pirs, is used in the fol lowing places, always with reference to sorcery or witchcraft: Jer. xxvii. 9; 2 Kings ix. 22; Isa. xlvii. 9; Mic. v. 12 (11); Nah. iii. 4. It may not be easy to specify the exact sense in which this word is used as distinguished from the others which relate to the same general subject, but it would seem to be that some form of prayer or invocation was em ployed. The persons referred to did not profess to interpret the prognostics of future events by any original skill of their own, but by the aid of the gods. ^ And the CJialdeans. See Notes on ch. i. 4. The Chaldeans appear to have been but one of the tribes or nations that made up the community at Babylon (corap. Notes en Isa. xxiii. 13), and it would seem that dreams. So they came and stood before the king.

3 And the king said unto them,

I have dreamed a dream, and my spirit was troubled to know the dream.

at this time they were particularly de voted to the practice of occult arts, and secret sciences. It is not probable that the other persons referred to in this enu meration were Chaldeans. The Magians, if any of these were employed, were Me dians (Notes on ch. i. 20), and it is not improbable that the other classes of diviners might have been from other nations. The purpose of Nebuchadnezzar was to assemble at his court whatever was remarkable throughout the world for skill and knowledge (see Analysis of ch i.), and the wise men of the Chaldeans were employed in carrying out that de sign. The Chaldeans were so much de voted to these secret arts, and became so celebrated for them, that the name came, among the Greek and Roman writers, to be used to denote all those who laid claim to extraordinary powers in this de partment. Diodorus Siculus, L. ii., says of the Chaldeans in Babylon, that " they sustain the same ofSce there that the priests do in Egypt; for being devoted to the worship of God through their whole lives, they give themselves to philosophy, and seek from astrology their highest glory." Cicero also remarks (De Divin., p. 3), that " the Chaldeans, so named, not from their art, but their nation, are sup posed by a prolonged observation of the stars, to have wrought out a science by which could bo predicted what was to happen to every individual, and to what fate he was born." Juvenal, likewise (Sat. vi. v. 552-4), has this passage:— - " Chaldaeis sed major erit fiducia; quidquid dixerit astrologus, credent a fonte relatum Ammonis." — " But their chief dependence is upon the Chaldeans; what ever an astrologer declares, they will re ceive as a response of [Jupiter] Ammon." Horace refers to the Babylonians as dis tinguished in his time for the arts of magic, or divination:

It is not probable that the whole nation of Chaldeans was devoted to these arts, but as a people they became so cele brated in ' this kind of knowledge that it was their best-known characteristic abroad. ^[ For to show the king his dreams. To show him what the dream was, and to explain its import. Comp. Gen. xli. 24; Judges xiv. K; 1 Kings x. 3. That it was common for kings to call in the aid of interpreters to explain the import of dreams, appears from Hero dotus. When Astyages ascended the throne, he had a daughter, whose name was Mandane. She had a dream, which seemed to him so remarkable, that he called in the "Magi," whose interpreta tion, Herodotus remarks, was of such a nature that it " terrified him exceed ingly." He was so much influenced by the dream and the interpretation, that it produced an entire change in his determi nation respecting the marriage of his daughter. Book 1, cvii. So again, after the marriage of his daughter, Herodotus says (B. 1, cviii.): "Astyages had an other vision. A vine appeared to spring from his daughter which overspread all Asia. On this occasion, also, he con sulted his interpreters: the result was, that he sent for his daughter from Persia., when the time of her delivery approached. On her arrival, he kept a strict watch over her, intending to destroy her child. The magi had declared the vision to inti mate that the child of his daughter should supplant him on the throne." Astyages, to guard against this, as soon as Cyrus was born, sent for Harpagus, a person in whom he had confidence, and command ed him to take the child to his own house, and put him to death. These passages iu Herodotus show that what is here re lated of the king of Babylon, demanding the aid of magicians and astrologers to interpret his dreams, was by no means an uncommon occurrence.

3. And the king said unto them, I have dreamed a dream, and my spirit was troubled to know the dream. That is, clearly, to know all about it; to recollect distinctly what it was, and to understand what it meant. He was agitated by so remarkable a dream; he probably had, as Jerome remarks, a shadowy and floating impression of what the dream was — such as we often have of a drearn that has agitated our minds, but of which we cannot recall the distinct arid full image; and he desired to recall that distinctly, and to know exactly what it meant. Se«

4 Then spake the Chaldeans to the king in Syriac, 0 king, live a for

4. Then spake the Chaldeans to the king. The meaning is, either that the Chaldeans spoke in the name of the entire company of the soothsayers and magi cians (Notes, ch. i. 20, ii. 2), because they were the most prominent among them, or the name is used to denote the collective body of soothsayers, meaning that this request was made by the entire company. ^ In Syriac. In the original — n'CHN — in Aramean. Gr. Zupitm — in Syriac. So the Vulgate. The Syriac retains the original word. The word means Ara mean, and the reference is to that lan guage which is known as East Aramean — a general term embracing the Chaldee, the Syriac, and the language which were spoken in Mesopotamia. See No:es on ch. i. 4. This was the vernacular tongue of the king and of his subjects, and was that in which the Chaldeans would naturally address him. It is re ferred to here by the author of this book, perhaps to explain the reason why he himself makes use of this language in explaining the dream. The use of this, however, is not confined to the statement of what the magicians said, but is con tinued to the close of the seventh chapter. Comp. the Intro. $ 4, III. The language used is that which is commonly called Chaldee. It is written in the same cha racter as the Hebrew, and differs from that as one dialect differs from another. It was, doubtless, well understood by the Jews in their captivity, and was probably spoken by them after their return to their own land. ^ 0 king, live for ever. This is a form of speech quite common in ad dressing monarchs. See 1 Sam. x. 24; 1 Kings i. 25 (margin); ch. iii. 9, v. 10. The expression is prevalent still, as in the phrases 'Long live the king/ ' Vive I'emperour,' ' Vive I'roi,' &c. It is found ed on the idea that long life is to be re garded as a blessing, and that we can in no way express our good wishes for any one better than to wish him length of days. In this pla«e, it was merely the usual expression of respect and homage, showing their earnest wish for the welfare of the monarch. They were willing to do anything to promote his happiness, and the continuance of his life and reign. It was especially proper for them to use this language, as they were about to make a rather unusual request, which might be construed as an act of disre spect, implying that the king had not given them all the means which it was equitable for them to have in explaining the matter, by requiring them to interpret the dream when he had not told them what it was. ^[ Tell thy servants the dream, and tec will show the interpreta tion. The claim which they set up in regard to the future was evidently only that of explaining what were regarded aa the prognostics of future events. It waa not that of being able to recall what is forgotten, or even to originate what might be regarded as pre-intimations of what is to happen. This was substantially the claim which was asserted by all the astrologers, augurs, and soothsayers of ancient times. Dreams, the flight of birds, the aspect of the entrails of ani mals slain for sacrifice, the positions of the stars, meteors, and uncommon ap pearances in the heavens, were supposed to be intimations made by the gods, of what was to occur in future times, and the business of those who claimed the power of divining the future, was merely to interpret these things. When the king, therefore, required that they should re call the dream itself to his own mind, ic was a claim to something which was not involved in their profession, and which they regarded as unjust. To that power they made no pretensions. If it be asked why, as they were mere jugglers and pre tenders, they did not invent something and state that as his dream, since he had forgotten what his dream actually was, we may reply, (1.) that there is no cer tain evidence that they were not sincere in what they professed themselves able to do — for we are not to suppose that all who claimed to be soothsayers and astrologers were hypocrites and inten tional deceivers. It was not at that period of the world certainly determined that nothing could be ascertained respecting the future by dreams, and by the positions of the stars, &c. Dreams were among the methods by which the future was made known, and whether the know-

5 The king answered and said to the Chaldeans, The thing is gone

ledge of what is to come could be obtain ed from the positions of the stars, &c., was a question which was at that time settled. Even Lord Bacon maintained that the science of astrology was not to be rejected, but to be reformed. (2.) If the astrologers had been disposed to attempt to deceive the king, there is no probability thai they could have succeed ed in palming an invention of their own on him as his own dream. We may not be able distinctly to recollect a dream, but we have a sufficient impression of it — of its outlines — or of some striking, though disconnected, things in it, to know what it is not. We might instantly recog nise it if stated to us; we should see at once, if any one should attempt to deceive us by palming an invented dream on us, that that was not what we had dreamed.

5. The hint/ answered and said to the Chaldeans, The thing is gone from me. The Vulgate renders this, Sermo recessit a me — ' The word is departed from me.' So the Greek, 'O Aoyof cm' ifiov airiarr). Luther, Es ist mir entf alien — 'It has fallen away from me/ or has departed from me. Coverdale, "It is gone from me." The Chaldee word rendered " the thing" — >v?P — means properly a word, furnish an interpretation of the dream, they should be cut off. The question as to the true interpretation, then, is between two constructions — whether it means, as in our version, that the dream had departed from him, that is, that he had forgotten it; or, that a decree or com mand had gone from him, that if they could not interpret the dream, they should be destroyed. That the former is the correct interpretation, seems to me to bo evident. (1.) It is the natural con struction, and accords best with the meaning of the original words. Thus no one can doubt that the word words "i3? and 'pnim, are used in the sense of thing, and that the natural and proper meaning of the Chaldee verb "\TN is to go away, depart. Comp. the Heb. W$, in Deut. xxxii. 36, " He seeth that their power is gone;" 1 Sam. ix. 7, " The bread is spent in our vessels;" Job xiv. 11, "The waters fail from the sea;" and the Chaldee StN, in Ezra iv. 23, "They went tip in haste to Jerusalem," v. 8, " We went into the province of Judea;" and Dan. ii. 17, 24, vi. 18 (19), 19 (20). (2.) This interpretation is sustained by the Vulgate of Jerome, and by the Greek.

discourse — something which is > (3-) I* does not appear that any such A +v, n L- command had at that time gone forth * from the king, and it was only when they reference here. came before him that he promulgated is to the matter under consideration, such an order. Even though the word, as to wit, the dream and its meanin The fair interpretation is, that he had for- gotten the dream, and that if he retained | present, instead of a verb in the preany recollection of it, it was only such an \ terite, still it would then as well apply to imperfect outline as to alarm him. The the dream departing from him, as the word rendered "is gone" — NIJN — which | command or edict. We may suppose the ooc,re on,y tee and in ver? 8, „ sup- | *•»& '£"$ ft £™ Ser* posed to be the same as ^.— to go aicarj, I St00d by the magicians, and the king did to depart. Gesenius renders the whole not attempt to correct their apprehension phrase, " The word has gone out from I of what he meant. Thus, in ver. 7, they me; i. c. what I have said is ratified, and say, " Let the king tell his servants the cannot be recalled;" and Prof. Bush (in \ dream, and we will show the interprcta - Joe.) contends that this is the true inter- tion thereof." This shows that they un- tion preferred by J. D. Michaelis. and him, and that they could not be expected Dathe. A construction somewhat similar I to interpret its meaning until they were is adopted by Aben. Ezra, C. B. Michaelis, Winer, Hengstenberg, and Prof. Stuart, that it means, " My decree is firm, or Bteadfast;" to wit, that if they did not apprised what it was. (5.) It is not necessary to suppose that the king re tained the memory of the dream himself, and that he meant merely to try them; from me: if ye -will not make known unto me the dream, with the interpretation thereof, ye shall be a cut in b pieces, and your « houses shall be made a dunghill.

that is, that he told them a deliberate falsehood, in order to put their ability to the test. Nebuchadnezzar was a cruel and severe monarch, and such a thing would not have been entirely inconsistent with his character; but we should not needlessly charge cruelty and tyranny on any man, nor should we do it unless the evidence is so clear that we cannot avoid it. Besides, that such a test should be proposed, is in the highest degree impro bable. There was no need of it; and it was contrary to the established belief in such matters. These men were retained at court, among other reasons, for the very purpose of explaining the prognos tics of the future. There was confidence in them; and they were retained because there was confidence in them. It does not appear that the Babylonian monarch had had any reason to distrust their ability as to what they professed; and why should he, therefore, on this occasion resolve to put them to so unusual, and obviously so unjust a trial? For these reasons, it seems clear to mo "that our common version has given the correct sense of this passage, and that the meaning is, that the dream had actually so far departed from him that he could not re peat it, though he retained such an im pression of its portentous nature, and of its appalling outline, as to fill his mind with alarm. As to the objection derived from this view of the passage by Bertholdt to the authenticity of this chapter, that it is wholly improbable that any man would be so unreasonable as to doom others to punishment because they could not recall his dream, since it entered not into their profession to be able to do it (Comm. i. p. p. 192), it may be remarked, that the cha racter of Nebuchadnezzar was such as to make what is stated here by Daniel by no means improbable. Thus it is said re specting him (2 Kings xxv. 7), "And they Blew the sons of Zedekiah before his eyes, and put out the eyes of Zedekiah, and bound him with fetters of brass, and carried him to Babylon." Comp. 2 Kings xxv. 18-21; Jer. xxxix. 5, seq. lii. 9-11. See also Dan. iv. 1.7, where he is called "the basest of men." Comp. Hengstenberg, Die Authentic des Daniel, pp. 79-81. On this objection, see Intro, to the chap.

ter, § 1, I. ^[ If ye will not make known unto me the dream, with the interpretation thereof. Whatever may be thought as to the question whether he had actually for gotten the dream, there can be no doubt that he demanded that they should state what it was, and then explain it. This demand was probably as unusual as it was in one sense unreasonable, since it did not fall fairly within their profession. Yet it was not unreasonable in this sense, that if they really had communication with the gods, and were qualified to ex plain future events, it might be sup posed that they would be enabled to recall this forgotten dream. If the gods gave them power to explain what was to come, they could as easily enable them to recall the past. ^ Ye shall be cut in pieces. Marg. made. The Chaldee is, ' Ye shall be made into pieces;' referring to a mode of punishment that was com mon to many ancient nations. Comp. 1 Sam. xv. 33: " And Samuel hewed Agag in pieces before the Lord in G-ilgal." Thus Orpheus is said to have been torn in pieces by the Thracian women; and Bessus was cut in pieces by order of Alexander the Great. ^ And your houses shall be made a dunghill. Comp. 2 Kings x. 27. This is an expression denoting that their houses, instead of being ele gant, or comfortable mansions, should be devoted to the vilest of uses, and sub jected to all kinds of dishonour and de filement. The language here used is in accordance with that which is commonly employed by Orientals. They imprecate all sorts of indignities and abominations on the objects of their dislike, and it is not uncommon for them to smear over with filth what is the object of their con tempt or abhorrence. Thus when the caliph Omar took Jerusalem, at the head of the Saracen army, after ravaging the greater part of the city, he caused dung to be spread over the site of the sanctu ary, in token of the abhorrence of all Musselmans, and of its being henceforth regarded as the refuse and otfscouring of all things. Prof. Bush. The Greek ren ders this, "And your houses shall bo plundered;" the Vulgate, " And your houses shall be confiscated." But thesa renderings are entirely arbitrary. This

6 But a if ye show the dream, and the interpretation thereof, ye shall receive of me gifts and & rewards and great honour: therefore show me the dream, and the interpreta tion thereof.

7 They answered again and said,

may seem to be a harsh punishment which was threatened, and some may, perhaps, be disposed to say that it is improbable that a monarch would allow himself to use such intemperate language, and to make use of so severe a threatening, especially when the magicians had as yet shown no inability to interpret the dream, and had given no reasons to apprehend that they would be unable to do it. But we are to remember, (1.) the cruel and arbitrary character of the king (see the references above); (2.) the nature of an Oriental despotism, in which a monarch is accustomed to require all his commands to be obeyed, and his wishes gratified promptly, on pain of death; (3.) the fact that his mind was greatly excited by the dream; and (4.) that he was certain that something portentous to his kingdom had been prefigured by the dream, and that this Avas a case in which all the force of threatening, and all the prospect of splendid reward, should be used, that they might be induced to tax their powers to the utmost, and allay the tumults of his mind.

6. But if ye show the dream. If you shoAV what the dream was. ^ And the interpretation thereof. What it signifies. That is, they were so to state the dream that Nebuchadnezzar would recognise it; and they Avere to give such an explana tion of H as would commend itself to his mind as ihe true one. On this last point he Avould doubtless rely much on their supposed wisdom in performing this duty, but it would seem clear, also, that it was necessary that the interpretation should be seen to be a fair interpretation, or such as would be fairly implied in the dream. Thus, Avhen Daniel made known the in terpretation, he saAv at once that it met all the features of the dream, and he admitted it to be correct. So also Avhen Daniel ex plained the hand-Avriting on the wall to Belshazzar, he admitted the justness of it, and loaded him with honours. Daniel V. 29. So when Joseph explained the

Let the king tell his servants tha dream, and we will show the inter pretation of it.

8 The king answered and said, I know of certainty that ye would c gain tha time, because ye see the thing i& gone from me.

dreams of Pharaoh, he at once saw the appropriateness of the explanation, and admitted it to be correct (Gen xli. 39-45), and so in the case above referred to (Notes 011 ver. 2), of Astyages respecting the dreams of his daughter (Herodo. 1, cvii. cviii.), he at once saw that the interpreta tion of the dreams proposed by the Magi accorded with the dreams, and took his measures accordingly. ^[ Ye shall receive, of me gifts, and rewards, and great honour. Intending to appeal to their highest hopes to induce them, if possible, to disclose the meaning of the dream. He specifies no particular rewards, but makes the promise general, and the evident meaning is, that, in such a case, he would bestow what it be came a monarch like him to give. That the usual rewards in such a case were such as were adapted to stimulate to the most vigorous exertions of their powers, may be seen from the honour which he con ferred on Daniel when he made known the dream (ver. 48), and from the re wards which Belshazzar conferred on Daniel for making known the interpreta tion of the writing on the wall ( ch. v. 29): " Then commanded Belshazzar, and they clothed Daniel with scarlet, and put a chain of gold about his neck, and made a proclamation concerning him, that he should be the third ruler in the kingdom." Comp. Esther v. 11. vi. 7-9.

7. They ansicercd again and said, Let the king tell his servants the dream, and we will show the interpretation of it. Certainly not an unreasonable request, in any circumstances, and especially in theirs. They did not profess, evidently, to be able to recall a dream that was for gotten, but the extent of their profession on this subject appears to have been, that they were able to explain what was com monly regarded as a prognostic of a future event.

8. The king answered and said, 1 know of certainty that ye would gain the time. Marg. buy. The Chaldee word,

9 But if ye will not make known unto me the dream, there is but one

decree for you; for ye have prepared lying and corrupt words to spe&k

PJ3T ( from ]?t), means to get for one's gelf, buy, gain, procure. Greek, rf ayopd^trt — 'that ye redeem time; and so the Vul gate — quod tempus redimitis. The idea is, that they saw that they could not com ply with his requisition, and that their asking him (ver. 7) to state the dream was only a pretext for delay, in the hope that in the interval some device might be hit on by them to appease him, or to avert his threatened indignation. It would be natural to suppose that they might hope that on reflection he would become more calm, and that, although they miyht not be able to recall the dream and explain it, yev it would be seen to be un reasonable to expect or demand it. The king seems to have supposed that some such thoughts were passing through their minds, and he charges on them such a project. The argument of the king seems to have been something like this: ' They who can explain a dream correctly, can as well tell what it is as what its interpreta tion is, for the one is as much the result if divine influence as the other; and if men can hope for divine help in the one i case why not in the other? As you can not, therefore, recall the dream, it is plain that you cannot interpret it, and your only object in demanding to know it, is that you may ward off as long as possible the execution of the threatened sentence, and, if practicable, escape it altogether.' It is not improbable that what they said was more than the simple request recorded in ver. 7. They would naturally enlarge on it, by attempting to show how unreasonable was the demand of the king in the case, and their argu ments would give a fair pretex for what he here charges on them, ^ Because ye cr,e the thing is gone from me. According to the interpretation proposed in ver. 5, the dream. The meaning is, ' You see that I have forgotten it. I have made a positive statement on that point. There can be no hope, therefore, that it can be recalled, and it is clear that your only object must be to gain time. Nothing can be gained by delay, and the matter may therefore be determined at once, and your conduct be construed as a confession that you cannot perform what is required, and the sentence proceed without delay.' This makes better sense, it seems to me, than to suppose that he means that j». sentence had gone forth from him that if they could not recall and interpret it they should be put to death.

9. But if ye will not ma7ce known the dream, there is but one decree for you. That is, you shall share the same fate. You shall all be cut to pieces, and your houses reduced to ruin. ver. 5. There shall be no favour shown to any class of you, or to any individual among you. It seems to have been supposed that the responsibility rested on them individually as well as collectively, and that it would be right to hold each and every one of them bound to explain the matter. As no difference of obligation was recognised, there would be no difference of criminality. It should be said, however, that there is a difference of interpretation here. Gesenius, and some others, render the word translated decree — i~n — counsel, plan, pur pose, and suppose that it means, ' this only is your counsel, or plan;' that is, to pre pare lying words, and to gain time. So Prof. Stuart renders the verse, "If ye will not make known to me the dream, one thing is your purpose, both a false and deceitful word have ye agreed to utter before me, until the time shall have changed; therefore tell me the dream, and then I shall know that you can show me the interpretation thereof." The original word, however, is most com monly used in the sense of law or decree. See Deut. xxxiii. 2; Es. i. 8, 13, 15, 19, ii. 8, iii. 8, 14, 15, iv. 3, 8, 11, 16, viii. 13, 14, 17, ix. 1, 13, 14, and there seems to be no necessity for departing from the common translation. It contains a sense according to the truth in the case, and is in accordance with the Greek, Latin, and Syriac versions. ^ For ye have prepared lying and corrupt words to speak before me. That is, 'You have done this in asking me to state the dream (vs. 4, 7), and in the demand that the dream should bo made known to you, in order that you may interpret it. I shall know by your inability to recall the dream that you ha ve been acting a false and deceitful part, and that your pretensions were all false. Your wish, therefore, to have me state the dream will be shown to be a mere pro-

before me, till the time be changed: therefore tell me the dream, and I a shall know that ye can show me the interpretation thereof.