Such were the meditations of Daniel, when his attention was called to a rustling noise in the foliage, on his right, a short distance from the spot on which he sat.  He looked, and beheld the uncouth form of the maniac king slowly approaching him.  The sight affected the Hebrew’s heart.  His eyes became moistened with tears.  The punishment was just, he knew; but in the history of that degraded monarch, he could find many things to admire.  In other days he had a heart that throbbed with kind and warm emotions.  Had he not in the main been kind to him and his three companions?  And, in the midst of envy and jealousy, had he not kept them, foreigners as they were, in the highest offices in the gift of the government?  He had.  And Daniel’s heart throbbed with pity as he beheld the brutish antics of one who was once so powerful and intelligent.  The king gradually approached the spot where Daniel sat, without observing him, sometimes standing erect, other times running on all fours, sometimes uttering incoherent expressions, other times bellowing like an ox.

“God of my fathers,” silently cried Daniel, “let this suffice!  According to thy promise restore the unhappy king to his reason, and let his courtiers know that there is no God like unto thee.”

By this time the maniac stood close by the side of his courtier, but as yet he had not observed him.

“Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon!” cried Daniel, with a loud voice.

The maniac was startled, looked up to the face of the minister for a moment, and cried, in loud accents, “Belteshazzar!  Belteshazzar!” and, as if greatly terrified, ran.  He soon stopped and stood at a distance, with his wild, flashing eyes steadfastly fixed on the form of the Rab Mag.

Daniel arose, and slowly directed his footsteps towards the spot.  He was glad to find that the king remained stationary.  He approached within a respectful distance of the maniac, uncovered his head, made his humble obeisance as in days of yore, and cried: 

“O king, live forever!”

The king, in silence, continued to gaze on Daniel, with a wild, vacant stare.

“Jehovah, the God of Israel!” cried Daniel, pointing with his finger to the skies.

“J-e-h-o-v-a-h!” slowly whispered the king, gazing upward.

The Hebrew now ventured nearer the king, fell upon his knees, and “with his face toward Jerusalem,” sent his urgent, silent petition to the God of Israel, in behalf of his unfortunate sovereign.  Daniel had not been long in prayer before the king, with restored reason, fell down by his side and loudly rejoiced and praised the God of heaven.  The set time had come; the prayer of the man of God had, indeed, prevailed; the lost was found, the maniac was restored.

The restoration of reason to the king was brought about by the same miraculous power that had deprived him of it, and it was accomplished in the same sudden manner.  He was not only restored to the right use of his faculties, but also to a perfect recollection of the past.  The dream, its interpretation, with all subsequent transactions up to the very day of his insanity, were brought clearly to his mind; but since that moment all was one dark void.  In mercy, not a vestige was permitted to remain to embitter his after years.