There are two other features generally prominent in the Reuben character. One of them is the general misery of the irresolute mind: it is, while never effectively repentant, always remorseful for its weaknesses or neglected opportunities. When Reuben returned to the pit and found Joseph gone, “he rent his clothes and said, The child is not, and I, whither shall I go?” Tiberius seems to have been of the same irresolute mold, though no doubt a far worse man than Reuben. There is a very characteristic passage in a letter of his to the Roman Senate, in which he says that if he knows what to write to them, or how to write, or what not to write, may all the gods and goddesses torment him more than they are already tormenting him.
The other feature is the tendency of the irresolute man to use strong speech, and make vigorous promises. Indeed he may generally be distinguished by this alone: it is good counsel never to trust any one that uses habitual superlatives. Reuben wants his father to send Benjamin with him, and says, “Slay my two sons if I bring him not [back] to thee. That sounded very emphatic indeed—slay his own son—his two sons too! It is so vigorous that we are hardly left room for a mild inquiry as to who on earth wanted to slay his two sons, as to what consolation this would be to their already sorrowing grandfather; also a reflection, that the sacrifice he proposed was not of himself, but of a very vicarious nature; and finally, a desire to know what the two sons themselves thought on the subject.
What his father thought was soon shown: he says, “My son shall not go down with you.” He knew Reuben, “unstable as water;” and knew that the strength of his words was balanced by the weakness of his actions. He reversed the saying of the iron hand in the velvet glove, and transforms the motto to fort. in modo, suau. in re. Moses says, “Let Reuben live and not die; and let his men be few.”
Our translators, thinking there must be some mistake interjected the word not—let not his men be few. But Moses knew perfectly well what he was saying. Let Reuben live and not die, to just exist without expiring was all that could be expected or desired for him; but let his men be few—the fewer the better.
The contrast of Judah's character is very striking everywhere, and no where more than in the passage just referred to. Judah makes no large offers at the expense of his sons; what offer he makes is much more moderate, and at his own risk. “Send the lad with me. I will be surety for him.” Jacob instantly trusts to him and lets Benjamin go. In doing which he showed again his discernment of character; for Judah nobly redeemed his pledge of surety-ship, when he stood forth in Egypt and proffered himself as a substitute for Benjamin.
This was the nature of Judah, and also of Benjamin, who ever after remained closely associated. When the ten tribes fell away into Jeroboam's idolatry, these two tribes stood by themselves. And wherever their descendants are found to this day, something of that character pertains to them, their unconquerable determination and persistence—sometimes unhappily clinging to an evil or mistaken course—and that through frightful and appalling persecutions. A lion is the metaphor used by Jacob in his blessing of Judah; and a lion was emblazoned on Judah's standard, the most appropriate figure possible of the power of a strong and determined mind. In Foster's “Decision of Character” there are passages where he contrasts the lion with the ox, as showing that while the lion is not so large, or strong, nor better armed than the ox, yet by reason of their different dispositions, whilst the ox can be driven anywhere, few dare interfere with the lion. “A man,” he proceeds, “who excels in the power of decision has probably more of the physical quality of a lion in his composition than other men.” The blessing of Moses on Judah is “Let his hands be sufficient for him;” and they generally have been—like that Norse family that Dellinger speaks of whose crest is a pickaxe, with the accompanying motto, “I will find a way or make one.” The order should be first deliberation, then action. The motto of Von Moltke is said to be, “Erst wagers, dann wagers,” first weigh, then venture. The moment that closes the decision begins the action.
In its highest forms this character is not to be shaken in its purpose, even amidst calamity, ruin, and disaster. Paul, looking forward to bonds and death, calmly says, “None of these things move me.” After the battle of Marathon, Cyneegirus seized one of the Persian boats which was pushing off from the shore. The Persians instantly lopped off his hand. He seized the boat then with the other, and they cut that off also: then he seized hold of it with his teeth.