“Charlevoix observes, (says Dr. Ferguson, Essay on Civil Society, Part II. § 2, p. 145,) that the nations among whom he travelled in North America never mentioned acts of generosity or kindness under the notion of duty. They acted from affection, as they acted from appetite, without regard to its consequences. When they had done a kindness, they had gratified a desire: the business was finished, and it passed from the memory. The spirit with which they give or receive presents is the same as that which Tacitus remarks among the ancient Germans: ‘Gaudent muneribus, sed nec data imputant, nec acceptis obligantur.’ Such gifts are of little consequence, except when employed as the seal of a bargain or a treaty.”
Respecting the Morlacchi (Illyrian Sclavonians), the Abbé Fortis says (Travels in Dalmatia, pp. 55-58):—
“The hospitality of the Morlachs is equally conspicuous among the poor as among the opulent. The rich prepares a roasted lamb or sheep, and the poor, with equal cordiality, gives his turkey, milk, honey,—whatever he has. Nor is their generosity confined to strangers, but generally extends to all who are in want.... Friendship is lasting among the Morlacchi. They have even made it a kind of religious point, and tie the sacred bond at the foot of the altar. The Sclavonian ritual contains a particular benediction, for the solemn union of two male or two female friends, in presence of the whole congregation. The male friends thus united are called Pobratimi, and the females Posestreme, which means half-brothers and half-sisters. The duties of the Pobratimi are, to assist each other in every case of need and danger, to revenge mutual wrongs, etc.: their enthusiasm is often carried so far as to risk, and even lose their life.... But as the friendships of the Morlacchi are strong and sacred, so their quarrels are commonly unextinguishable. They pass from father to son, and the mothers fail not to put their children in mind of their duty to revenge their father, if he has had the misfortune to be killed, and to show them often the bloody shirt of the deceased.... A Morlach is implacable, if injured or insulted. With him, revenge and justice have exactly the same meaning, and truly it is the primitive idea, and I have been told that in Albania the effects of revenge are still more atrocious and more lasting. There, a man of the mildest character is capable of the most barbarous revenge, believing it to be his positive duty.... A Morlach who has killed another of a powerful family is commonly obliged to save himself by flight, and keep out of the way for several years. If during that time he has been fortunate enough to escape the search of his pursuers, and has got a small sum of money, he endeavors to obtain pardon and peace.... It is the custom in some places for the offended party to threaten the criminal, holding all sorts of arms to his throat, and at last to consent to accept his ransom.”
Concerning the influence of these two distinct tendencies—devoted personal friendship and implacable animosities—among the Illyrico-Sclavonian population, see Cyprien Robert, Les Slaves de la Turquie, ch. vii. pp. 42-46, and Dr. Joseph Müller, Albanien, Rumelien, und die Œsterreichisch-Montenegrenische Gränze, Prag. 1844, pp. 24-25.
“It is for the virtue of hospitality (observes Goguet, Origin of Laws, etc. vol. i. book vi. ch. iv.), that the primitive times are chiefly famed. But, in my opinion, hospitality was then exercised, not so much from generosity and greatness of soul, as from necessity. Common interest probably gave rise to that custom. In remote antiquity, there were few or no public inns: they entertained strangers, in order that they might render them the same service, if they happened to travel into their country. Hospitality was reciprocal. When they received strangers into their houses, they acquired a right of being received into theirs again. This right was regarded by the ancients as sacred and inviolable, and extended not only to those who had acquired it, but to their children and posterity. Besides, hospitality in these times could not be attended with much expense: men travelled but little. In a word, the modern Arabians prove that hospitality may consist with the greatest vices, and that this species of generosity is no decisive evidence of goodness of heart, or rectitude of manners.”
The book of Genesis, amidst many other features of resemblance to the Homeric manners, presents that of ready and exuberant hospitality to the stranger.
[145] Respecting the Thracians, compare Herodot. v. 11; Thucydid. vii. 29-30. The expression of the latter historian is remarkable,—τὸ δὲ γένος τῶν Θρᾳκῶν, ὁμοῖα τοῖς μάλιστα τοῦ βαρβαρικοῦ, ἐν ᾧ ἂν θαρσήσῃ, φονικώτατόν ἐστι.
Compare Herodot. viii. 116; the cruelty of the Thracian king of the Bisaltæ towards his own sons.
The story of Odysseus to Eumæus in the Odyssey (xiv. 210-226) furnishes a valuable comparison for this predatory disposition among the Thracians. Odysseus there treats the love of living by war and plunder as his own peculiar taste: he did not happen to like regular labor, but the latter is not treated in any way mean or unbecoming a freeman:—
ἔργον δέ μοι οὐ φίλον ἦεν