2: This first letter closes here with a legend of Charles the Great which Petrarch heard at Aix-la-Chapelle.
5: The context would seem to indicate (as Fracassetti and de Nolhac [_op. cit._, p. 148] assume) that Petrarch means that many copies of Ovid but none of Virgil were to be found at Cologne.
7: Namely, to Constantinople, then to Milan, and finally to Cologne.
8: This letter to the Bishop of Lombez is preserved, and is to be found next in order in Fracassetti's collection. _Fam_., i., 5.
A good deal has been written about Petrarch's famous ascent of Mount Ventoux. Körting assuredly exaggerates its significance when he declares it "an epoch-making deed" which would by itself substantiate Petrarch's title to be called the first modern man.[1] The reader will observe that, however modern may have been the spirit in which the excursion was undertaken, the relapse into mediæval sentiment was speedy and complete. As we shall find, Petrarch had no sooner reached the top than he bethought himself of his Augustine, before whose stern dictum the wide landscape quickly lost its fascination.
To-day I made the ascent of the highest mountain in this region, which is not improperly called Ventosum.[3] My only motive was the wish to see what so great an elevation had to offer. I have had the expedition in mind for many years; for, as you know, I have lived in this region from infancy, having been cast here by that fate which determines the affairs of men. Consequently the mountain, which is visible from a great distance, was ever before my eyes, and I conceived the plan of some time doing what I have at last accomplished to-day. The idea took hold upon me with especial force when, in re-reading Livy's _History of Rome_, yesterday, I happened upon the place where Philip of Macedon, the same who waged war against the Romans, ascended Mount Hæmus in Thessaly, from whose summit he was able, it is said, to see two seas, the Adriatic and the Euxine. Whether this be true or false I have not been able to determine, for the mountain is too far away, and writers disagree. Pomponius Mela, the cosmographer--not to mention others who have spoken of this occurrence--admits its truth without hesitation; Titus Livius, on the other hand, considers it false. I, assuredly, should not have left the question long in doubt, had that mountain been as easy to explore as this one. Let us leave this matter one side, however, and return to my mountain here,--it seems to me that a young man in private life may well be excused for attempting what an aged king could undertake without arousing criticism.