While the Israelites were comparatively a small and compact nation, dwelling around their tabernacle, the worshippers could easily offer their sacrifices, bringing them from their homes to the altar. But in process of time, when the nation had become a large and scattered one, its members residing at great distances, and only coming to the Temple once or twice in the year to offer their sacrifices, they would have found that for even the poor to carry their pigeons with them would have greatly increased the trouble, and in many cases have been almost impossible.
For the sake of convenience, therefore, a number of dealers established themselves in the outer courts of the Temple, for the purpose of selling Doves to those who came to sacrifice. Sheep and oxen were also sold for the same purpose, and, as offerings of money could only be made in the Jewish coinage, money-changers established themselves for the purpose of exchanging foreign money brought from a distance for the legal Jewish shekel. That these people exceeded their object, and endeavoured to overreach the foreign Jews who were ignorant of the comparative value of money and goods, is evident from the fact of their expulsion by our Lord, and the epithets which were applied to them.
As the Dove played so important a part in the Jewish worship, the Talmudical writers have investigated the subject with a curious minuteness.
In the first place, they discuss the reasons for its selection as the bird of sacrifice, and always endeavour to represent it as contrasted with the raven—all birds of the raven kind, i.e. the rooks, crows, magpies, and the like, being set down as cunning, deceptive, and thieving; while all the pigeon kind are mild, true, and loving. There is a curious story which illustrates this idea. A certain man named Ilisch, who understood the language of birds, was "once upon a time" in captivity, when he heard the cry of a raven, which called out to him, "Ilisch! Ilisch! flee! flee!" But Ilisch said within himself, "I believe not this lying bird." But next came a Dove, which said the same words. Then said Ilisch, "I believe this bird, because Israel is compared to a dove."
Here this Ilisch, whoever he may be, referred to the Talmudical writers on the subject of the Dove, which they delighted to compare with Israel in a variety of ways, some of them being very obscure and rather far-fetched. For example, of all birds the Dove is the most persecuted, being gentle, meek, and unable to resist. She cannot fight with her beak or her claws, and has only her wings, with which she will flee away if she is able, or if not, will fight with them. Now, as the wings are to the Dove, so is the law to Israel.
The wings are the strength of the Dove. Upheld by them she can fly for many hours, so that the birds of prey which are pursuing her cannot take her. Then comes a strange notion of the Dove's flight. When other birds are tired, they sit down and fold their wings to rest. But the tired Dove never ceases her flight; but when one wing is fatigued, she allows it to rest, and continues her flight with the other. So is it with Israel, who, though persecuted by the Gentiles, and deprived of half her strength, cannot be entirely crushed, but still survives and asserts herself.
One reason that is given for the gentle disposition of the Dove is that the bird has no gall, the gall being considered by the naturalists of old as the source and fountain of contention, the bitterness of the gall being supposed to infuse itself into the spirit. Probably on account of this anatomical peculiarity, the Dove was considered as the very pattern for married people, and the emblem of chastity, as it lives in the strictest monogamy, never desiring another mate. Unfortunately for these writers, the Raven, which is always mentioned by them in strong contrast with the Dove, is quite as remarkable for its attachment to its mate and young, and for the strictness of its monogamy, the same pair, when once mated, residing together for the whole of their lives.
Even the age of the Dove was made a matter of consideration by the Talmudists, so that in great measure the original benevolence of the Law was cramped by the restrictions which were laid upon it. As we are told by St. Paul, in Heb. ix., even under the old dispensation, without shedding of blood there was no remission of sins, and he who desired to obtain that remission was obliged to shed the blood of the sacrifice. Now, in order that poverty should be no restriction to the attainment of the greatest spiritual privileges, it was ordained that young pigeons or Turtle Doves might be substituted for the more costly animals.
These birds cost but very little. The peasant might take them from the dove-cote, which was the appendage of most households, and he who was too poor even to have a dove-cote of his own might go to the rocky side of the ravines, and take as many young as he pleased from the myriad nests which are placed in the clefts. Thus, at any time of the year, the poorest man or woman could obtain the means of sacrifice.
But the restrictive genius which was so sternly rebuked by our Lord soon made itself felt. All these birds, in order to be fit for sacrifice, must be Beni-yonâh, i.e. Sons of Doves. The definition of this term is rather interesting, as it affords an excellent example of the hair-splitting character of these interpreters of the Law. According to them, a pigeon could only be ranked among the Beni-yonâh for a short period of its life, and, if it were too young or too old, it might not be offered as a sacrifice.