Daniel 6:11-14

Then the king, when he heard these words, was sore displeased with himself.

The Nemesis of Flattery

Daniel sought neither publicity, nor avoided it. He was too well acquainted with the methods of Oriental government to suppose that his disobedience to the King’s decree could be concealed. Because he had given God his, heart, he sought no evasions. He would have been untrue to his own feelings if he had cared for his own selfish ease and safety more than for God’s honour. But he made no parade, or ostentatious exhibition of his piety. Amidst all the weighty cares and pressure of public business, this holy man found time for regular prayer. (verses 12-14) Alas! Poor King! But a day or two ago he had scaled the giddiest height of human ambition. His courtiers had made him divine. Darius the infallible! It must be very trying to an infallible personage to have any of the ills that flesh is heir to--such as a headache--and not be able to predicate for certain what will cure it. There was something worse here. These courtiers had snared Darius with his own vanity. So much adulation for bait, and when it was taken the trap would fall, and the King be caged. The Persian law rendered him impotent. He might repent, but repentance availed nothing. As a rule this Medo-Persian law probably worked well. It was intended as an obstacle to the too hasty enactment of a law. But the tumultuous entry of the conspirators demanding leave to pay him extravagant honour, was too much for Darius’s prudence. He fondly imagined that their flattery was genuine, and that it arose from heartfelt respect for his great qualities. And now he was “sore displeased with himself,” for he felt that he had been weak indeed. He had let himself be duped. Our sins, and even our follies, punish us with just retribution. For vain Darius there was self-contempt. By a just retribution God uses our own vices and weakness as the scourge wherewith He punishes us. Were we wise we should take the warning. But it is in vain that the moralist warns us that only the edge of folly’s cup is tinged with honey, and that the long drought which follows ever grows in bitterness, and must be drained to the last foul dregs. But this, with us, is not inevitable. We do not stand, like Darius, sorrowful, reluctant, displeased with ourselves, labouring to escape, but with no outlet for deliverance. For us Christ has died, and he is our way of safety, our door for admittance into the fold of the free, and also our strength. He gives swiftness to the weary feet, power to the feeble arms, peace to the aching heart. (Dean Payne Smith.)

Conscience at Work

Why this uneasiness? Is he afraid of foreign invasion? Does he dread some internal rebellion or has disease assailed his constitution? No. His uneasiness arises, not from his body, but from his soul; not from his kingdom, but from his conscience. In the matter of Daniel’s condemnation, he had acted a most unworthy, most unkingly, most unmanly part. No sooner is the act completed, than his heart reproached him with his weakness, and his conscience accused him of his sin. Why was he, on any account, accessory to the death of an innocent man? Why did he suffer a faithful servant to be basely betrayed and murdered? Why did he consent to tarnish his honour, to compromise his dignity, by becoming the reluctant accomplice, and the degraded tool, of envious and perfidious men? The more he broods over the matter, he becomes the more excited, till the fever of his mind was communicated to his physical frame, and rendered sleep impossible. From this we may learn, that sin, even when yielded to from weakness, will leave guilt upon the conscience, which sooner or later will cause uneasiness and pain. Conscience, it is true, may be so debilitated and exhausted by habits of sin, that it may allow the sinner to lie long under guilt without raising an accusing voice. God, however, can at any moment quicken it by one single beam of light, and so kindle and inflame it, that the most hardened sinners in Zion shall tremble, and fearfulness seize the most seared and hardened among the hypocrites. And when conscience is once quickened, the guilty man cannot escape from its accusations. Wherever he goes, he carries his accuser in his bosom. And the conscience will never be truly pacified, until it is sprinkled by the atoning blood of Jesus, and purified by the sanctifying influences of the Holy Ghost. When in this state of mind, Darius used no carnal methods to silence the voice of his inward monitor. He gave it full scope. He communed with his heart in the night season. “Then the king went to his palace, and passed the night fasting: neither were instruments of music brought before him.” The conduct of this heathen king reproves many, who, when their consciences are quickened by the word read or preached, or by some dispensation in providence, use means to lull it asleep, such as pleasure, or company, or dissipation. When conscience speaks, let us ever attend. Give ear to her faintest whispers. Be not afraid to listen to her loudest accusations. These may work your soul’s eternal health. Those times, when a man’s conscience is specially awakened, ought to be regarded as constituting eras of incalculable importance in his history as an immortal being. Let us, in such cases, looking up to God for wisdom to guide, and for grace to strengthen, endeavour to perform the first duty pointed out by the light which we have, and in the way of doing so, we will ever see the light shining before us, as we advance, and ever shining more and more, the farther we proceed. (W. White.)

The Conscience of the Wicked King

Study the character of Darius.

I. HIS VANITY. He was proud of his position and power. He was attacked on his weak side. He would not make himself a god, but merely assumes God’s prerogative for thirty days. But the one bad step brought its calamity; for sins are social--one of them is never alone. One of his presidents would worship his God all the time. The king sees the evil, but too late. He had done wrong, and he is now the slave of wrong. So with every man. Selfishness is his weakness. If he gives way, the first stone of his dungeon is laid. Then comes the unexpected evil; that one sin brings another. In any crisis, small or great, when the question is between Christ and ourselves, if we do not crucify self, we open the long avenues of guilt, of which often there is no shutting afterwards.

II. HIS PERPLEXITY. The king’s conscience is aroused. Daniel! he cannot do such a thing with him, he must not do it. But he cannot help it. Surely Daniel can be saved. No--not even that. Then comes the actual evil. He cannot go back, he must go forward. He sinks lower, to sins of deed--weakness, cowardice, and even blasphemy.

III. HIS REMORSE AND GOOD INTENTIONS. The king was sorry. Surely he was penitent. Now the tide was turned. Darius makes a new decree: the God of Daniel must be served, and no other. But we are not told that he turned to the Lord, that he learned His law, or kept it. So with us when the cloud breaks and the passion has spent its force, then the reaction comes, and repentance and remorse. If we repent partially, not because we have sinned against God, but have disturbed our own conscience or brought disgrace upon ourselves, if we are ready to go back to temptation afresh, then a new cloud hangs, threatening night. Come, not to boast, but to be forgiven; not to offer, but to receive. (W. Murdoch Johnston, M.A.)

And set his heart on Daniel to deliver him.

Darius and Daniel; or the Necessity of an Atonement

Why could not Darius deliver Daniel? He was an absolute monarch, and had the whole power of the realm at his control. His inability did not arise frown a want of disposition. The king was most sincerely disposed to deliver him, if he could. He passed sentence upon Daniel with great and evident reluctance. There are many things which a monarch, however powerful, cannot consistently perform. An absolute monarch may be so surrounded with checks and restraints, that he has really less liberty than almost any of his subjects. He cannot abrogate his own laws, or trifle with his own authority, or introduce principles of administration which shall go to encourage transgression, or to release his subjects from their obligations el obedience. There were but two ways in which Darius could deliver Daniel. The one was by rescinding and disowning his rash decree; and the other by forbearing to execute it, or, which is the same, by pardoning Daniel. In the first case he would have dishonoured the law, and disgraced himself for passing such a law. Could he not forbear to execute his rash decree? Could he not give this beloved officer a full and free pardon? Nay, he could not pardon Daniel, even if Daniel would consent to be pardoned, without dishonouring his entire system of government, weakening its authority, and exposing it to contempt. The consequence was, that the transgressor of the law must feel its penalty, and Daniel must go into the den of lions. The case of Darius and Daniel goes to illustrate another case, in which we are personally and immensely interested. We are the rightful subjects of an absolute Monarch--the mighty Monarch of the universe. He has issued good laws for the regulations of our hearts and lives, and has annexed to them a just, but a dreadful penalty. These laws we have broken; this penalty we have all incurred. In what way can we be delivered? True, our Sovereign has physical power enough to deliver us, for He is omnipotent. And He can have no pleasure in our ruin, for He is infinitely benevolent. Still, there are some things which He cannot with propriety do. He cannot deny Himself. He cannot disgrace Himself. He cannot bring dishonour upon His holy law. He cannot do anything to weaken His authority in the eyes of those whom He rules, anything to invite or encourage transgression. How then are we, who have broken the law of God, and incurred its penalty, to be delivered? The laws of God are perfectly good laws; to set them aside would be inconsistent with His holiness. If God were not infinitely wiser than men, and infinitely more benignant and merciful, there would be no hope. What Darius could not do for Daniel, God has been able to do for us. He has devised a way in which His holy law can be honoured, and its authority maintained, and yet the penalty be remitted to penitent transgressors. By the voluntary sufferings and death of Christ, in place of the transgressor, the violated law has been honoured, and a way of deliverance opened. Sinners cannot be saved without an atonement, and they can be saved in no other way than by an atonement. (E. Pond, D.D.)