CHAPTER VIII.
THE MEETING OF JOSEPH AND BENJAMIN.
“Joseph fell upon his brother Benjamin’s neck and wept; and Benjamin wept upon his neck” ([Gen. xlv. 14]). Such is the word-picture of which one of our Engravings is a copy. There is much that is lovely and of good report as between man and man in our natures, notwithstanding of the fall, and one of the fountains of the heart is here broken open. We see how brother loves brother, and, by contrast with that scene, are enabled to understand how far the minds of Joseph’s brethren [[66]]must have been warped and deadened by hatred or envy, when they could trample as they did upon the affection which should knit brother to brother. Such beautiful displays of brotherly love were perhaps made in this case just to show more clearly by contrast the hateful nature of envy in every case, but most of all among brothers.
Prior to this stage of these proceedings, indeed, Joseph had given some manifestations of his affection to Benjamin. He showed that his elevation to the right hand of a throne had neither alienated nor chilled his love; and the fivefold mess which he sent to Benjamin ([Gen. xliii. 34]), according to the Eastern mode of showing affection, made it plain that the external change in Joseph’s position had not altered his heart. When he first set eyes on Benjamin, he could not refrain [[67]]his tears, but “sought where to weep; and he entered into his chamber, and wept there” (verses [29–31]). According to the calmer temperament of Western nations, where self-command in such cases is more studied, such affection may appear excessive in a high and mighty ruler; it may seem weak or womanish thus to dissolve into tears, even in the retirement of one’s chamber. But in less phlegmatic temperaments, and especially among Orientals, nature takes its own mode of expression—at once the most pathetic and the most powerful; and the gushings of natural affection, its tenderness, its beauty, and its force, rank among the finest portions of the Word of God. Jesus wept because Jerusalem would none of him: it would rather rush upon ruin. The deep yearnings of his loving heart were outraged, and he wept in anguish there, [[68]]as in Gethsemane his sweat was as it were great drops of blood. Again, Paul could tell, even weeping, of some who were the enemies of the cross of Christ, who gloried in their shame, and drew forth pity for men who had no pity on themselves. In short, wherever man is not hardened into callousness by the power of the world, or chilled by conventional usage, he will be as prompt to weep with them that weep as to rejoice with them that rejoice. It is true, whether poetry record it or not, that—
“Not the bright stars which night’s blue arch adorn,
Nor rising sun which gilds the vernal morn,
Shines with such lustre as the tears that break,
For other’s woes, down Virtue’s manly cheek.”