February 21

FEBRUARY 21.—“And all that sat in the council, looking steadfastly on him, saw his face as it had been the face of an angel.”—Acts 6:15.

THERE was nothing unaccountable in their beholding him as they did. He was a remarkable character; and had excited much notice by his office, and the wonders and miracles which he did among the people, and the victory he had gained over a number of able opponents who had challenged him to the dispute. He also now appeared, upon his trial, under some heinous accusations. When a prisoner enters a court, every eye is naturally drawn towards him; and the judge and the jury frequently observe his countenance, as a kind of index of his conscious innocency or guilt. All that sat in the council looked steadfastly on Stephen, wishing and hoping, perhaps, to gaze him into confusion and tremor. But he could bear looking at—They saw his face as it had been the face of an angel. But filled with envy and malice and fury, grinning horribly, and gnashing upon him with their teeth; how did their faces appear? What a contrast between him and his persecutors! Here was a lamb among wolves, an angel before devils, and the High Priest the chief of the devils!

“They saw his face as it had been the face of an angel.” But how could they tell what an angel’s face was? They had never seen one. Angels had indeed formerly appeared to men: and many instances of it are recorded. But as the design of the Scripture is to edify, and not to amuse, it tells us little concerning these beings. Yet all it relates goes to establish one thing—their superiority to the human race. Thus we read that man was made a little lower than the angels. They are spoken of as flying very swiftly. They are said to excel in strength. To be exceedingly wise, is to be wise as an angel of God. The glory of their appearance was such as commonly to overpower the senses of those to whom they were sent. At the sight of Gabriel, Daniel’s comeliness was turned into corruption, and he retained no strength. The human voice is a wonderful instrument; and we find what it can achieve in singing and eloquence. Yet Paul speaks not only of the tongues of men, but of angels: and it would seem that one of these is to awaken the dead; the voice of the archangel is the trump of God. A human countenance is an astonishing display of perfection: yet it is intimated that the face of an angel is much more so. These celestial beings are the flower of the creation; and from our inferiority to them, we see more fully the excellency of God’s power, in putting the treasure into earthen vessels, and employing as ministers men, and not angels—The vastness of the Christian’s obligation, who is raised from his low estate, and placed above these angels in blessedness and glory—The humility and kindness of these angels, that though now so much higher than we, they are all our ministering spirits, and despise not even our little ones—And far more still, the grace and condescension of the Lord Jesus, who took not on him the nature of angels, but was made in the likeness of men; and because the children were partakers of flesh and blood, also took part of the same.

But what was the nature of this appearance in the face of Stephen? and how is it to be accounted for? The visage is sometimes very impressive and striking by natural beauty. There is

nothing in the world so admirable as "the human face divine." How greatly does it display the workmanship of the Creator, and how often has it been the instrument of his providence in effecting great designs! How much depended upon the life of Moses! But he was hid three months because he was a goodly child. Daniel and his three companions were preferred because they were well formed and there was no blemish in them. Esther was an orphan, supported by her uncle, with no dowry but her charms: yet she becomes the saviour of Israel, and the queen of one hundred and twenty-seven provinces.

The face is rendered powerful and striking by intellectual qualities. The former may be found without these; but the features, however fine and regular, will be tame and insipid, unless something of mind beams through; and the countenance will only captivate fools and sensualists. "Wisdom," says Solomon, "maketh the face to shine." What expression is there in the looks of some speakers when they are animated and lighted up! Much of the force of Lord Chatham's eloquence arose form the fire of his eye, and the majesty of his features.

The face is rendered interesting and striking by social and moral attributes. These constitute the chief grace, the principal charm. It is of these we think when we conceive of our Lord in the days of his flesh, and by which alone perhaps he was personally fairer than the children of men. We imagine his face beaming with peace, gentleness, compassion, kindness, readiness to pardon and relieve, the image of the invisible God who is love. How is a countenance injured by the want of humility, modesty, diffidence, tenderness! How lovely are infants while insensible of their cherub charms! How lovely is youth while they are unconscious of their attractions, and full of innocency and simplicity, and devoid of design and attempt—for the impression is gone when the wearer is perceived to be acting upon it; and study, art, and decoration, are employed and managed as substitutes and expedients. What a difference is there between two countenances, one of which is inherited by vice and bad humour, and the other by goodness and amiable temper! How angelic does one man look! How rude, tyrannical, insolent, unfeeling, and cruel another! How desirable is it that persons should be religious early, while the face is susceptible of impression and improvement, and the features may be modified by its benign and heavenly influences! When they are older, a change of character cannot change the countenance; and if envy, and malignity, and pride, and disdain, have ruled in it before, they will leave deep and dismal traces for life. Religion, we are persuaded, is not only "the health of the countenance," but the comeliness too!

But when Stephen's face was seen as it had been the face of an angel, was the aspect natural, or supernatural? He might have had a corporeal loveliness. We know he was at this time full of wisdom and faith. His countenance was not pallid with guilt, nor distracted by care, nor troubled with fear, but full of confidence, serenity, mildness and joy. Yet there was something supernatural here. And why should this be deemed incredible, or even wonderful? The occasion was worthy a divine interposition. It was an age of miracles. A few hours afterward, Stephen said, I see the