Most of us are familiar with the picture, so dear to the hearts of Christian Scientists, called "Daniel's Answer to the King." The artist has portrayed the moment when the king, at whose command Daniel has been cast into the den of lions, comes, after a sleepless night, to see whether the captive is still alive. "O Daniel, servant of the living God," he cries, "is thy God, whom thou servest continually, able to deliver thee from the lions?" And the answer comes, "O king, live for ever. My God hath sent his angel, and hath shut the lions' mouths, that they have not hurt me." There he stands,—the straight, slim figure, shoulders back, head erect, calm eyes raised to his questioner,—not the least hint of fear in his attitude, even though the beasts are still snarling at his feet. His hands are bound, but the very droop of the lax fingers shows an utter forgetfulness of the thing upon which he has deliberately turned his back.
As the present writer was studying the picture, impressed, as always, by that upturned, untroubled face, the thought came: "Suppose I had been thrown into a den of lions, and the man who had put me there had come creeping up at daylight to see how I was getting along: could I have looked up at him as did Daniel, and told him I hoped he would live for ever?" To be honest, she was sure that she could not. On the contrary, she would probably have let him know pretty plainly what she thought of him, and in the eyes of the world she would have been amply justified. But here another question quickly presented itself: If the resentment thus expressed had rankled in her heart all through that crucial night, would the morning have found her with her demonstration made? In other words, if Daniel had hated the king for his part in the transaction, would he have been delivered from the lions? Was it not his very freedom from resentment of the situation which had much to do with his deliverance from it? There is not a trace of anger on that quiet face; only the great stillness of a peace "which passeth all understanding."
As we ponder this, the old story of our childhood suddenly assumes a new significance, for are not we in this century, struggling with exactly the same problem? Humanity, in its mental processes, has undergone little change since Daniel's time, and the overcoming of resentment is perhaps one of the most common—as well as the most difficult—things that it ever finds itself called upon to do. Happily for us, the barbarous methods of the ancients have been outgrown; but he who fancies that persecution "for righteousness' sake" is a thing of the past, knows little of the nature of the carnal mind. Behind the arras of modern civilization still lurks the old cry, "Ad liones!" and many a modern Daniel, taking a stand for Truth, has found himself, figuratively speaking, hurled suddenly into a den of lions, whose snarling somehow sounded uncomfortably real! Even now, some one who reads these words may still be struggling to free himself from just such a mental environment, and to him Daniel's method will be of interest, for it is the right and the scientific way. He says to the king; "God hath sent his angel, and hath shut the lions' mouths, that they have not hurt me."
