deacons; and it is believed he had studied at the feet of Gamaliel. As
he was full of the Holy Ghost, and of zeal, Acts vi, 5, 6, &c, he
performed many wonderful miracles: and those of the synagogue of the
Libertines, of the Cyrenians, of the Alexandrians, and others, disputing
with him, could not withstand the wisdom and the power with which he
spoke. Then having suborned false witnesses, to testify that they had
heard him blaspheme against Moses, and against God, they drew him before
the sanhedrim. Stephen appeared in the midst of this assembly, with a
countenance like that of an angel; and the high priest asking him what
he had to answer, in his defence he rapidly traced the history of the
Jews, showing that they had always opposed themselves to God and his
prophets; faithfully upbraided them with the hardness of their hearts,
with their putting the prophets to death, and, lastly, with slaying
Christ himself. At these words they were filled with rage, and gnashed
their teeth against him. But Stephen, lifting up his eyes to heaven,
calmly exclaimed, “I see the heavens opened, and the Son of man standing
at the right hand of God.” Then the Jews cried out, and stopped their
ears as though they had heard blasphemy, and falling on him, they drew
him out of the city, and stoned him. The witnesses laid down their
clothes at the feet of a young man called Saul, afterward St. Paul, who
then appears to have commenced his career of persecution. “And they
stoned Stephen, calling upon God, and saying, Lord Jesus, receive my
spirit; and he kneeled down and cried with a loud voice, Lord, lay not
this sin to their charge. And when he had said this, he fell asleep,” an
example of the majesty and meekness of true Christian heroism, and as
the first, so also the pattern, of all subsequent martyrs. His Christian
brethren forsook not the remains of this holy man; but took care to bury
him, and accompanied his funeral with great mourning, Acts viii, 2.
STOICS, a sect of Heathen philosophers, Acts xvii, 18. Their
distinguishing tenets were, that God is underived, incorruptible, and
eternal; possessed of infinite wisdom and goodness; the efficient cause
of all the qualities and forms of things; and the constant preserver and
governor of the world: That matter, in its original elements, is also
underived and eternal; and is by the powerful energy of the Deity
impressed with motion and form: That though God and matter subsisted
from eternity, the present regular frame of nature had a beginning
originating in the gross and dark chaos, and will terminate in a
universal conflagration, that will reduce the world to its pristine
state: That at this period all material forms will be lost in one
chaotic mass; and all animated nature be reunited to the Deity: That
from this chaotic state, however, the world will again emerge by the
energy of the efficient principle; and gods, and men, and all forms of
regulated nature be renewed and dissolved, in endless succession: And
that after the revolution of the great year all things will be restored,
and the race of men will return to life. Some imagined, that each
individual would return to its former body; while others supposed, that
similar souls would be placed in similar bodies. Those among the stoics
who maintained the existence of the soul after death, supposed it to be
removed into the celestial regions of the gods, where it remains until,
at the general conflagration, all souls, both human and divine, shall be
absorbed in the Deity. But many imagined that, before they were admitted
among the divinities, they must purge away their inherent vices and
imperfections, by a temporary residence in some aërial regions between
the earth and the planets. According to the general doctrine of the
stoics, all things are subject to a stern irresistible fatality, even
the gods themselves. Some of them explained this fate as an eternal
chain of causes and effects; while others, more approaching the
Christian system, describe it as resulting from the divine decrees--the
fiat of an eternal providence. Considering the system practically, it
was the object of this philosophy to divest men of their passions and
affections. They taught, therefore, that a wise man might be happy in
the midst of torture; and that all external things were to him
indifferent. Their virtues all arose from, and centred in, themselves;
and self approbation was their great reward.
STONE. This word is sometimes taken in the sense of rock, and is applied
figuratively to God, as the refuge of his people. See _Rock_, The
Hebrews gave the name of “stones” to the weights used in commerce; no
doubt because they were originally formed of stone. “Just weights,” is
therefore in Hebrew, “just stones.” “The corner stone,” or “the head
stone of the corner,” is a figurative representation of Christ. It is
the stone at the angle of a building, whether at the foundation or the
top of the wall. Christ was that corner stone, which, though rejected by
the Jews, became the corner stone of the church, and the stone that
binds and unites the synagogue and the Gentiles in the unity of the same
faith. Some have thought the showers of stones cast down by the Lord out
of heaven, mentioned several times in the Old Testament, to be showers
of hail of extraordinary size; which was probably the case, as they even
now sometimes occur in those countries in a most terrific and
destructive form, and show how irresistible an agent this meteor is in
the hands of an offended God. The knives of stone that were made use of
by the Jews in circumcision, were not enjoined by the law; but the use
of them was founded, either upon custom, or upon the experience that
this kind of instrument is found to be less dangerous than those made of
metal. Zipporah made use of a stone to circumcise her sons, Exod. iv,
25. Joshua, v, 2, did the same, when he caused such of the Israelites to
be circumcised at Gilgal, as had not received circumcision during their
journey in the wilderness. The Egyptians, according to Herodotus, made
use of knives of stone to open dead bodies that were to be embalmed; and
Pliny assures us, that the priests of the mother of the gods had sharp
stones, with which they cut and slashed themselves, which they thought
they could not do with any thing else without danger. Great heaps of
stones, raised up for a witness of any memorable event, and to preserve
the remembrance of some matter of great importance, are among the most
ancient monuments. In those elder ages, before the use of writing, these
monuments were instead of inscriptions, pyramids, medals, or histories.
Jacob and Laban raised such a monument upon Mount Gilead in memory of
their covenant, Gen. xxxi, 46. Joshua erected one at Gilgal, made of
stones taken out of the Jordan, to preserve the memorial of his
miraculous passage over this river, Josh. iv, 5–7. The Israelites that
dwelt beyond Jordan also raised one upon the banks of the river, as a
testimony that they constituted but one nation with their brethren on
the other side, Joshua xxii, 10. Sometimes they heaped up such a
collection of stones upon the burying place of some odious persons, as
was done in the case of Achan and Absalom, Joshua vii, 26; 2 Kings
xviii, 17.
A “heart of stone” may be understood several ways. Job, xli, 24,
speaking of the leviathan, says, that “his heart is as firm as a stone,
yea as hard as a piece of the nether millstone:” that is, he is of a
very extraordinary strength, boldness, and courage. It is said, 1 Sam.
xxv, 37, that Nabal’s heart died within him, and he became as a stone,
when he was told of the danger he had incurred by his imprudence; his
heart became contracted or convulsed, and this was the occasion of his
death. Ezekiel, xxxvi, 26, says, that the Lord will take away from his
people their heart of stone, and give them a heart of flesh; that is, he
will render them contrite, and sensible to spiritual things. “I will
give him a white stone,” Rev. ii, 17; that is, I will give him full and
public pardon and absolution. It is spoken in allusion to an ancient
custom of delivering a white stone to such as they acquitted in
judgment. They used likewise to give a white stone to such as conquered
in the Grecian games.
STORK, חסידה, Lev. xi, 19; Deut. xiv, 18; Job xxxix, 13; Psalm civ, 17;
Jer. viii, 7; Zech. v, 9; a bird similar to the crane in size, has the
same formation as to the bill, neck, legs, and body, but is rather more
corpulent. The colour of the crane is ash and black; that of the stork
is white and brown. The nails of its toes are also very peculiar; not
being clawed like those of other birds, but flat like the nails of a
man. It has a very long beak, and long red legs. It feeds upon serpents,
frogs, and insects, and on this account might be reckoned by Moses among
unclean birds. As it seeks for these in watery places, nature has
provided it with long legs; and as it flies away, as well as the crane
and heron, to its nest with its plunder, therefore its bill is strong
and jagged, the sharp hooks of which enable it to retain its slippery
prey. It has long been remarkable for its love to its parents, whom it
never forsakes, but tenderly feeds and cherishes when they have become
old, and unable to provide for themselves. The very learned and
judicious Bochart has collected a variety of passages from the ancients,
in which they testify this curious particular. Its very name in the
Hebrew language, _chasida_, signifies mercy or piety: and its English
name is taken, if not directly, yet secondarily, through the Saxon, from
the Greek word στοργὴ, which is often used for natural affection.
The stork’s an emblem of true piety;
Because, when age has seized and made his dam
Unfit for flight, the grateful young one takes
His mother on his back, provides her food,
Repaying thus her tender care of him
Ere he was fit to fly.
BEAUMONT.
It is a bird of passage, and is spoken of as such in Scripture: “The
stork knoweth her appointed time,” Jer. viii, 7.
Who bid the stork, Columbus-like, explore
Heavens not its own, and worlds unknown before?
Who calls the council, states the certain day,
Who forms the phalanx, and who points the way?
POPE.
Bochart has collected several testimonies of the migration of storks.
Ælian says, that in summer time they remain stationary, but at the close
of autumn they repair to Egypt, Libya, and Ethiopia. “For about the
space of a fortnight before they pass from one country to another,” says
Dr. Shaw, “they constantly resort together, from all the adjacent parts,
in a certain plain; and there forming themselves, once every day, into a
‘douwanne,’ or council, (according to the phrase of these eastern
nations,) are said to determine the exact time of their departure, and
the place of their future abodes.” See SWALLOW.
STRANGER. Moses inculcated and enforced by numerous and by powerful
considerations, as well as by various examples of benevolent
hospitality, mentioned in the book of Genesis, the exhibition of
kindness and humanity to strangers. There were two classes of persons
who, in reference to this subject, were denominated _strangers_, גרים.
One class were those who, whether Hebrews or foreigners, were destitute
of a home, in Hebrew תושבים. The others were persons who, though not
natives, had a home in Palestine; the latter were גרים, _strangers_ or
_foreigners_, in the strict sense of the word. Both of these classes,
according to the civil code of Moses, were to be treated with kindness,
and were to enjoy the same rights with other citizens, Lev. xix, 33, 34;
xxiv, 16, 22; Num. ix, 14; xv, 14; Deut. x, 18; xxiii, 7; xxiv, 17;
xxvii, 19. In the earlier periods of the Hebrew state, persons who were
natives of another country, but who had come, either from choice or from
necessity, to take up their residence among the Hebrews, appear to have
been placed in favourable circumstances. At a later period, namely, in
the reigns of David and Solomon, they were compelled to labour on the
religious edifices which were erected by those princes; as we may learn
from such passages as these: “And Solomon numbered all the strangers
that were in the land of Israel, after the numbering wherewith David his
father had numbered them; and they were found a hundred and fifty
thousand and three thousand and six hundred; and he set three score and
ten thousand of them to be bearers of burdens,” &c, 1 Chron. xxii, 2; 2
Chron. ii, 1, 16, 17. The exaction of such laborious services from
foreigners was probably limited to those who had been taken prisoners in
war; and who, according to the rights of war, as they were understood at
that period, could be justly employed in any offices, however low and
however laborious, which the conqueror thought proper to impose. In the
time of Christ, the degenerate Jews did not find it convenient to render
to the strangers from a foreign country those deeds of kindness and
humanity which were not only their due, but which were demanded in their
behalf by the laws of Moses. They were in the habit of understanding by
the word רע, _neighbour_, their friends merely, and accordingly
restricted the exercise of their benevolence by the same narrow limits
that bounded in this case their interpretation; contrary as both were to
the spirit of those passages which have been adduced above, Lev. xix,
18.
STREETS, CORNERS OF. Our Lord reproves the Pharisees for praying in the
corners of the streets, that is, choosing public places for what ought
to have been private devotion. The Hindoos, Mohammedans, and others
still have this practice. “Both Hindoos and Mussulmans offer their
devotions in the most public places; as, at the landing places of
rivers, in the public streets, and on the roofs of boats, without the
least modesty or attempt at concealment.” “An aged Turk,” observes
Richardson, “is particularly proud of a long flowing white beard, a well
shaved cheek and head, and a clean turban. It is a common thing to see
such characters, far past the bloom of life, mounted on stone seats,
with a bit of Persian carpet, at the corner of the streets, or in front
of their bazaars, combing their beards, smoking their pipes, or drinking
their coffee, with a pitcher of water standing beside them, or saying
their prayers, or reading the Koran.”
STUMBLING, STONE OF. “We set out from Argos very early in the morning,”
says Hartley, “and were almost eleven hours in reaching Tripolitza. The
road is, for the most part, dreary; leading over lofty and barren hills,
the principal of which is Mount Parthenius. In England, where the roads
are so excellent, we do not readily perceive the force and just
application of the Scriptural figures, derived from a ‘stone of
stumbling, and a rock of offence,’ Isaiah viii, 14, and similar
passages; but in the east, where the roads are, for the most part,
nothing more than an accustomed track, the constant danger and
impediment arising to travellers from stones and rocks fully explain the
allusion.”
In the grand description which Isaiah gives, lxiii, 13, of God “with his
glorious arm” leading his people through the Red Sea, it is said, “That
led them through the deep, as a horse in the wilderness, that they
should not stumble;” that is, who preserved them from falling amidst the
numerous inequalities in the bed of the sea, caused in some instances by
deep cavities, and in others by abrupt intervening rocks. The figure is
a very natural one, especially in the east, where the Arabs and Tartars
are famed for their dexterity in the management of even bad horses. A
curious instance of this occurs in Colonel Campbell’s “Overland Journey
to the East Indies.” Speaking of the Tartar, an accredited courier of
the Turkish government, under whose guidance he travelled in disguise
across the desert from Aleppo to Mosul, he says, “One day, after riding
about four miles from a caravansera, at which we had changed our cattle,
I found that a most execrably bad horse had fallen to my lot. He was
stiff, feeble, and foundered; in consequence of which he stumbled very
much, and I every minute expected that he would fall and roll over me. I
therefore proposed to the guide to exchange with me; a favour which he
had hitherto never refused, and for which I was the more anxious as the
beast that he rode was of the very best kind. To my utter astonishment,
he peremptorily refused; and as this had been a day of unusual
taciturnity on his part, I attributed his refusal to peevishness and ill
temper, and was resolved not to let the matter rest there. I therefore
desired the interpreter to inform him, that as he had at Aleppo agreed
to change horses with me as often as I pleased, I should consider our
agreement infringed if he did not comply, and would write to the consul
at Aleppo to that effect. As soon as this was conveyed to him, he seemed
strongly agitated by anger, yet endeavoured to conceal his emotions
under affected contempt and derision, which produced from him one of the
most singular grins that ever yet marred the human physiognomy. At
length he broke forth:--‘You will write to Aleppo, will you? Foolish
Frank! they will not believe you,’ &c.--‘Why do you not, then,’ said I,
interrupting him; ‘why do you not perform your promise by changing
horses, when you are convinced in your conscience (if you have any) that
it was part of our agreement?’--‘Once for all, I tell you,’ interrupted
he, ‘I will not give up this horse. There is not,’ said he
gasconadingly, ‘there is not a Mussulman that ever wore a beard, not to
talk of a wretched Frank, who should get this horse from under me. I
would not yield him to the Commander of the Faithful this minute, were
he in your place; and I have my own reasons for it.’--‘I dare say you
have,’ returned I, ‘love of your ease, and fear of your bones.’ At
hearing this he grew quite outrageous; called Mohammed and Allah to
witness, that he did not know what it was to fear any thing; declared
that he was convinced some infernal spirit had that day got possession
of me, &c. At length observing that I looked at him with sneering
contemptuous defiance, he rode up alongside of me. I thought it was to
strike, and prepared to defend myself. I was however mistaken: he
snatched the reins out of my hand, and caught hold of them collected
close at the horse’s jaw, then began to flog my horse and to spur his
own, till he got them both into full speed: nor did he stop there, but
continued to belabour mine with his whip and to spur his own, driving
headlong over every impediment that came in our way, till I really
thought he had run mad, or designed to kill me. Several times I was on
the point of striking him with my whip, in order to knock him off his
horse; but as often patience providentially came in to my assistance,
and whispered to me to forbear, and see it out. Meantime I considered
myself as being in some danger; and yet such was the power which he had
over the cattle, that I found it impossible to stop him. So, resigning
the event to the direction of Providence, I suffered him, without a
farther effort, to proceed. He continued this for some miles, over an
uncultivated tract, here and there intersected with channels formed by
rills of water in the periodical rains, thickly set with low furze,
ferns, and other dwarf bushes, and broken up and down into little hills.
His horse carried him clear over all; and though mine was every minute
stumbling and nearly down, yet, with a dexterity inexpressible and a
vigour altogether amazing, he kept him up by the bridle, and, I may say,
_carried_ him gallantly over every thing. At all this I was very much
astonished; and, toward the end, as much pleased as astonished; which he
perceiving, cried out frequently and triumphantly, ‘Behold, Frank,
behold!’ and at last, drawing in the horses, stopping short, and looking
me full in the face, he exclaimed, ‘Frank, what say you now?’ For some
time I was incapable of making him any answer, but continued surveying
him from head to foot as the most extraordinary savage I had ever
beheld; while he stroked his whiskers with great self-complacency and
composure, and nodded his head every now and then, as much as to say,
‘Look at me! Am I not a very capital fellow?’ We alighted on the brow of
a small hill, whence was to be seen a full and uninterrupted prospect of
the country all round. The interpreter coming up, the Tartar called to
him, and desired him to explain to me carefully the meaning of what he
was about to say. ‘You see those mountains,’ said he, pointing to the
east; ‘they are in the province of Kurdestan, and inhabited by a vile
race of robbers, who pay homage to a god of their own, and worship the
devil from fear. They live by plunder; and often descend from those
mountains, cross the Tigris which runs between them and us, and plunder
and ravage this country in bands of great number and formidable
strength, carrying away into slavery all they can catch, and killing all
who resist them. This country therefore, for some distance round us, is
very dangerous to travellers, whose only safety lies in flight. Now it
was our misfortune this morning to get a very bad horse. Should we meet
with a band of those Curds, what could we do but fly? And if you, Frank,
rode this horse, and I that, we could never escape; for I doubt _you
could not keep him up from falling under_ ME, _as I did under_ YOU. I
should therefore come down and be taken; you would lose your guide and
miss your way; and all of us would be undone.’ As soon as the
interpreter had explained this to me, ‘Well,’ continued the Tartar,
‘what does he say to it now?’--‘Why, I say,’ returned I, ‘that you have
spoken good sense and sound reason; and I am obliged to you.’ This, when
fully interpreted, operated most pleasingly upon him, and his features
relaxed into a broad look of satisfaction.”
SUPERSTITION may be described to be either the careful and anxious
observation of numerous and unauthorized ceremonies in religion, under
the idea that they possess some virtue to propitiate God and obtain his
favour, or, as among Pagans and others, the worship of imaginary
deities, and the various means of averting evil by religious ceremonies,
which a heart oppressed with fears, and a perverted fancy, may dictate
to those ignorant of the true God, and the doctrines of salvation. Dr.
Neander observes, The consideration of human nature and history shows us
that the transition from unbelief to superstition is always easy. Both
these conditions of the human heart proceed from the self-same ground,
the want of that which may be properly called faith, the want of a life
in God, of a lively communion with divine things by means of the inward
life; that is, by means of the feelings. Man, whose inward feelings are
estranged from the divine nature, is inclined, sometimes to deny the
reality of that of which he has nothing within him, and for the
conception and application of which to himself he has no organ. Or else,
the irresistible force of his inward nature impels man to recognize that
higher power from which he would fain free himself entirely, and to seek
that connection with it which he cannot but feel needful to his comfort;
but, inasmuch as he is without any real inward sympathy of disposition
with the Divinity, and wants a true sense of holiness, the Divinity
appears to his darkened religious conscience only under the form of
power and arbitrary rule. His conscience paints to him this power as an
angry and avenging power. But as he has no idea of that which the
Divinity really is, he cannot duly understand this feeling of
estrangement from God, this consciousness of divine wrath; and, instead
of seeking in moral things the source of this unquiet feeling, which
leaves him no rest by day or night, and from which there is no escape,
he fancies that by this or that action, which of itself is perfectly
indifferent, he may have offended this higher power, and he seeks by
outward observances again to reconcile the offended power. Religion here
becomes a source, not of life, but of death; the source, not of
consolation and blessing, but of the most unspeakable anxiety which
torments man day and night with the spectres of his own imagination.
Religion here is no source of sanctification, but may unite in man’s
heart with every kind of untruth, and serve to promote it. There is one
kind of superstition in which, while man torments himself to the utmost,
he still remains estranged from the true nature of inward holiness; and
while he is restrained from many good works of charity by his constant
attendance on mischievous, arbitrary, and outward observances, he is
still actuated by a horror of any great sin, a superstition in which man
avoids pleasure so completely that he falls into the opposite extreme;
and even the most innocent enjoyments, which a childlike simplicity
would receive with thankfulness from the hand of a heavenly Father, he
dares not indulge in. But there is also another kind of superstition,
which makes it easy for man, by certain outward observances, to silence
his conscience under all kinds of sin, and which therefore serves as a
welcome support to it.