The Essays, vol 1 | Page 8

person's tastes being
according to the notions of his native place; and that he had
consequently set very little on what he was told beforehand.
"Upon his arrival at Botzen, Montaigne wrote to Francois Hottmann, to
say that he had been so pleased with his visit to Germany that he
quitted it with great regret, although it was to go into Italy. He then
passed through Brunsol, Trent, where he put up at the Rose; thence
going to Rovera; and here he first lamented the scarcity of crawfish, but
made up for the loss by partaking of truffles cooked in oil and vinegar;
oranges, citrons, and olives, in all of which he delighted."
After passing a restless night, when he bethought himself in the
morning that there was some new town or district to be seen, he rose,
we are told, with alacrity and pleasure.
His secretary, to whom he dictated his Journal, assures us that he never
saw him take so much interest in surrounding scenes and persons, and
believes that the complete change helped to mitigate his sufferings in
concentrating his attention on other points. When there was a complaint
made that he had led his party out of the beaten route, and then returned
very near the spot from which they started, his answer was that he had
no settled course, and that he merely proposed to himself to pay visits

to places which he had not seen, and so long as they could not convict
him of traversing the same path twice, or revisiting a point already seen,
he could perceive no harm in his plan. As to Rome, he cared less to go
there, inasmuch as everybody went there; and he said that he never had
a lacquey who could not tell him all about Florence or Ferrara. He also
would say that he seemed to himself like those who are reading some
pleasant story or some fine book, of which they fear to come to the end:
he felt so much pleasure in travelling that he dreaded the moment of
arrival at the place where they were to stop for the night.
We see that Montaigne travelled, just as he wrote, completely at his
ease, and without the least constraint, turning, just as he fancied, from
the common or ordinary roads taken by tourists. The good inns, the soft
beds, the fine views, attracted his notice at every point, and in his
observations on men and things he confines himself chiefly to the
practical side. The consideration of his health was constantly before
him, and it was in consequence of this that, while at Venice, which
disappointed him, he took occasion to note, for the benefit of readers,
that he had an attack of colic, and that he evacuated two large stones
after supper. On quitting Venice, he went in succession to Ferrara,
Rovigo, Padua, Bologna (where he had a stomach-ache), Florence, &c.;
and everywhere, before alighting, he made it a rule to send some of his
servants to ascertain where the best accommodation was to be had. He
pronounced the Florentine women the finest in the world, but had not
an equally good opinion of the food, which was less plentiful than in
Germany, and not so well served. He lets us understand that in Italy
they send up dishes without dressing, but in Germany they were much
better seasoned, and served with a variety of sauces and gravies. He
remarked further, that the glasses were singularly small and the wines
insipid.
After dining with the Grand-Duke of Florence, Montaigne passed
rapidly over the intermediate country, which had no fascination for him,
and arrived at Rome on the last day of November, entering by the Porta
del Popolo, and putting up at Bear. But he afterwards hired, at twenty
crowns a month, fine furnished rooms in the house of a Spaniard, who
included in these terms the use of the kitchen fire. What most annoyed
him in the Eternal City was the number of Frenchmen he met, who all
saluted him in his native tongue; but otherwise he was very

comfortable, and his stay extended to five months. A mind like his, full
of grand classical reflections, could not fail to be profoundly impressed
in the presence of the ruins at Rome, and he has enshrined in a
magnificent passage of the Journal the feelings of the moment: "He
said," writes his secretary, "that at Rome one saw nothing but the sky
under which she had been built, and the outline of her site: that the
knowledge we had of her was abstract, contemplative, not palpable to
the actual senses: that those who said they beheld at least the ruins of
Rome, went too far, for the ruins of so gigantic a structure must have