If we turn from the Old to the New Testament, we find the same contemptuous feeling displayed towards the Dog. It is mentioned as an intolerable aggravation of the sufferings endured by Lazarus the beggar as he lay at the rich man's gate, that the dogs came and licked his sores. In several passages, the word Dog is employed as a metaphor for scoffers, or unclean persons, or sometimes for those who did not belong to the Church, whether Jewish or Christian. In the Sermon on the Mount our Lord himself uses this image, "Give not that which is holy unto dogs" (Matt. vii. 6.) In the same book, chapter xv. 26, Jesus employs the same metaphor when speaking to the Canaanitish woman who had come to ask him to heal her daughter: "It is not meet to take the children's bread and cast it to dogs." And that she understood the meaning of the words is evident from her answer, in which faith and humility are so admirably blended. Both St. Paul and St. John employ the word Dog in the same sense. In his epistle to the Philippians, chapter iii. 2, St. Paul writes, "Beware of dogs, beware of evil workers." And in the Revelation, chapter xxii. 14, these words occur: "Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates to the city; for without are dogs, and sorcerers, and whoremongers, and murderers, and idolaters, and whomsoever loveth and maketh a lie."
That the dogs of ancient times formed themselves into bands just as they do at present is evident from many passages of Scripture, among which may be mentioned those sentences from the Psalms, wherein David is comparing the assaults of his enemies to the attacks of the dogs which infested the city. "Thou hast brought me into the dust of death; for dogs have compassed me, the assembly of the wicked have enclosed me." This passage will be better appreciated when the reader has perused the following extract from a recent work by Signor Pierotti. After giving a general account of the Dogs of Palestine and their customs, he proceeds as follows:—
"In Jerusalem, and in the other towns, the dogs have an organization of their own. They are divided into families and districts, especially in the night time, and no one of them ventures to quit his proper quarter; for if he does, he is immediately attacked by all the denizens of that into which he intrudes, and is driven back, with several bites as a reminder. Therefore, when an European is walking through Jerusalem by night, he is always followed by a number of canine attendants, and greeted at every step with growls and howls. These tokens of dislike, however, are not intended for him, but for his followers, who are availing themselves of his escort to pass unmolested from one quarter to another.
"During the hard winter of 1859, I fed many of the dogs, who frequented the road which I traversed almost every evening, and afterwards, each time that I passed, I received the homage not only of the individuals, but of the whole band to which they belonged, for they accompanied me to the limits of their respective jurisdictions and were ready to follow me to my own house, if I did but give them a sign of encouragement, coming at my beck from any distance. They even recollected the signal in 1861, though it was but little that I had given them."
The account which this experienced writer gives of the animal presents a singular mixture of repulsive and pleasing traits, the latter being attributable to the true nature of the Dog, and the former to the utter neglect with which it is treated. He remarks that the dogs which run wild in the cities of Palestine are ill-favoured, ill-scented, and ill-conditioned beasts, more like jackals or wolves than dogs, and covered with scars, which betoken their quarelsome nature. Yet, the same animals lose their wild, savage disposition, as soon as any human being endeavours to establish that relationship which was evidently intended to exist between man and the dog. How readily even these despised and neglected animals respond to the slightest advance, has been already shown by Sig. Pierotti's experience, and there is no doubt that these tawny, short-haired, wolf-like animals, could be trained as perfectly as their more favoured brethren of the western world.
As in the olden times, so at the present day, the dogs lie about in the streets, dependent for their livelihood upon the offal that is flung into the roads, or upon the chance morsels that may be thrown to them. An allusion to this custom is made in the well-known passage in Matt. xv. The reader will remember the circumstance that a woman of Canaan, and therefore not an Israelite, came to Jesus, and begged him to heal her daughter, who was vexed with a devil. Then, to try her faith, He said, "It is not meet to take the children's bread, and to cast it to dogs." And she said, "Truth, Lord: yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their master's table." Now, the "crumbs" which are here mentioned are the broken pieces of bread which were used at table, much as bread is sometimes used in eating fish. The form of the "loaves" being flat, and much like that of the oat-cake of this country, adapted them well to the purpose. The same use of broken bread is alluded to in the parable of Lazarus, who desired to be fed with the crumbs that fell from the rich man's table, i.e. to partake of the same food as the dogs which swarmed round him and licked his sores. Thus we see that Lazarus was supposed to have undergone the very worst indignities to which poverty could bring a man, and the contrast between himself and the other personage of the parable receives additional strength.
The "crumbs," however liberally distributed, would not nearly suffice for the subsistence of the canine armies, and their chief support consists of the offal, which is rather too plentifully flung into the streets. The Dogs of Palestine are, indeed, much like hyænas of certain African towns, and act as scavengers, devouring any animal substance that may fall in their way. If the body of any animal, not excluding their own kind, be found lying in the streets, the dogs will assemble round it, and tear it to pieces, and they have no scruples even in devouring a human body. Of course, owing to the peculiar feeling entertained by the Orientals towards the Dog, no fate can be imagined more repulsive to the feelings of humanity than to be eaten by dogs; and therein lies the terror of the fate which was prophesied of Ahab and Jezebel. Moreover, the blood, even of the lower animals, was held in great sanctity, and it was in those days hardly possible to invoke a more dreadful fate upon any one than that his blood should be lapped by dogs.
We lose much of the real force of the Scriptures, if we do not possess some notion of the manners and customs of Palestine and the neighbouring countries, as well as of the tone of mind prevalent among the inhabitants. In our own country, that any one should be eaten by dogs would be a fate so contrary to usage, that we can hardly conceive its possibility, and such a fate would be out of the ordinary course of events. But, if such a fate should happen to befall any one, we should have no stronger feeling of pity than the natural regret that the dead person was not buried with Christian rites.
But, with the inhabitants of Palestine, such an event was by no means unlikely. It was, and is still, the custom to bury the corpse almost as soon as life has departed, and such would ordinarily have been the case with the dead body of Jezebel. But, through fear of the merciless Jehu, by whose command she had been flung from the window of her own palace, no one dared to remove her mangled body. The dogs, therefore, seized upon their prey; and, even before Jehu had risen from the banquet with which he celebrated his deed, nothing was left of the body but the skull, the feet, and the hands.
In Mr. Tristram's work, the author has recognised the true dog nature, though concealed behind an uninviting form: "Our watch-dog, Beirût, attached himself instinctively to Wilhelm, though his canine instinct soon taught him to recognise every one of our party of fourteen, and to cling to the tents, whether in motion or at rest, as his home. Poor Beirût! though the veriest pariah in appearance, thy plebeian form encased as noble a dog-heart as ever beat at the sound of a stealthy step."
The same author records a very remarkable example of the sagacity of the native