Our passions and our emotions are, however, more subdued than those of the semi-civilised nations; for, in the first place, we undergo the softening influences of education, and secondly, we are more or less under the restraint of the rules which govern society. Besides this, our mind is usually engrossed by the numerous cares which our state of living necessitates; for we are not like them, contented with little; on the contrary, instead of being satisfied with what is necessary, we require luxuries and superfluities, the procurement of which takes up a considerable portion of our energy and our mental activity.
The Slavonians, and more especially those belonging to the southern regions, such as the Dalmatians and Montenegrins, are, as a general rule, very passionate; ardent in their affections, they are likewise given to anger, resentment, and hatred, the generic sister passion of love.
The Slavonian women are, however, not indolent, nor do they ever indulge in idle dreams; for they are not only occupied with the household cares, but they also take a share, and not the smallest or the slightest, of those toils which in other countries devolve upon the men alone. They therefore, in the manly labours of the field, not only get prematurely old, but they hardly ever possess much grace, slenderness, or delicate complexions. No Slavonian woman, for instance, is ever mignonne. They, in compensation, acquire in health, and perhaps in real æsthetic beauty of proportions, what they lose in prettiness or delicacy of appearance, consequently they never suffer from vapours or from the numerous nervous complaints to which the generality of our ladies are subjected; the natural result of this state of things is mens sana in corpore sano; this is doubtless the reason why Slavonian women are, as a general rule, fond mothers and faithful wives.
They are certainly not endowed with that charming refinement, the morbidezza of manners which but too often is but a mask covering a morbid selfish disposition, a hypocritical and false nature. Though ignorant, they are neither void of natural good sense nor wit; they only want that smattering of worldly knowledge which the contact of society imparts, and which but too often covers nothing but frivolity, gross ignorance, and conceit. Their conversation is, perhaps, not peculiarly attractive; for being simple and artless, speech was not given to them as a means of disguising their thoughts; their lips only disclose the fullness of their hearts. Conversation is, besides, a gift conferred to few; and even in our polite circles not many persons can converse in an interesting manner, and fewer can be witty without backbiting; moreover, if man were suddenly to become transparent, would he not have to blush for the frivolous demonstrations of friendship daily interchanged in our artificial state of society?
The different amusements that absorb so much of our time and occupy our minds are unknown in Slavonian countries; the daily occupations and the details of the toilet do not captivate the whole attention; so that when a simple affection is awakening in the heart of a man or of a woman, it by degrees pervades the whole soul and the whole mind, and a strong and ardent passion usually ensues. Moreover, amongst those simple-minded sincere people flirtations are generally unknown; yet when they do love, their affections are genuine; they never exchange amongst each other those false coins bearing Cupid's effigy, and known as coquetry; for their lips only utter what their hearts really feel. People there do not delight in playing with the fire of love, or trying how far they can with impunity make game of sentiments which should be held sacred. Amongst the virile maidens of Slavonia many of them therefore have virgin hearts, that is to say, artless souls, fresh to all the tender sentiments; the reason of this is, that from the age of fifteen they do not trifle with their affections until they have become so callous and sceptical that marriage is merely wealth or a position in life. Men do not first waste away all the tender emotions which the human heart is capable of, and then settle down into a mariage de raison.
The following story, which happened about a century ago, will serve as an illustration of the power of love amongst the Slavonians; it is, indeed, a kind of repetition of the fate which attended the lovers of Sestos and Abydos. This, however, is no legend, but an historical fact; the place where this tragedy happened was the island of St. Andrea, situated between those of Malfi and Stagno, not far from the town of Ragusa.
Though no Musæus has immortalised this story by his verses, it is, however, recorded in the "Revista Dalmata" (1859), in the "Annuario Spalatino" of the same year, as well as other Slavonian periodicals.
The hero of this story, whose Christian name was Teodoro, belonged to one of the wealthiest patrician families of Ragusa, his father being, it is said, Rector of the Republic. He was a young man of a grave character, but withal of a gentle and tender disposition; he not only possessed great talents, but also great culture, for his time was entirely given up to study.
One day, the young patrician having gone from the island of St. Andrea, where he had been staying at the Benedictine convent, to one of the other two neighboring islands, he in the evening wished to return to his abode. He met upon the beach a young girl who was carrying home some baskets of fish. Having asked her if she knew of anybody who would take him across to the island of St. Andrea, the young girl proffered her services, which the young and bashful patrician reluctantly accepted.
The young girl was as beautiful, as chaste, and as proud as the Arrabiata of Paul Heyse; and for the first time Teodoro felt a new and vague feeling awake in his bosom. He began to talk to the girl, asking her a thousand questions about herself, about her home; and the young girl doubtless told him that she was an orphan, and that she lived with her brothers. Instead of returning to his family, the young nobleman remained at the Benedictine convent, with the purpose of studying in retirement; his mind, however, was not entirely engrossed by his books, and his visits to the island where Margherita lived daily became more frequent.