The princesses had also, besides the books of the hour, books that they had been obliged to buy or accept, books left to them—those which were kept “for their backs,” as Montaigne said. The bookshelves made a brilliant display in a spacious gallery adorned with the choicest objects of art. The bulk of the library usually consisted of books on the elements of religion, history, and morals; it also contained romances, poetry, Petrarch, Boccaccio, and books with engravings, which too often replaced those charming manuscripts of which Louise of Savoy was one of the last protectors. The books that were read were treatises on history, especially Roman history, and on practical medicine.[229] But custom varied. Certain ladies, like Anne of France, browsed on the early fathers, the philosophers, and the moralists. Many, while loving studies of this kind and calling themselves highly philosophic, preferred to have their food peptonised, and to be furnished with ready-made convictions which only required ventilating and disseminating in conversation. A number of Italian treatises proffered themselves for this little service, the best of which was Castiglione’s book, _The Courtier_. To name Castiglione is to name the Bible of platonism, the code of aestheticism, the Machiavelli of anti-machiavelism; Castiglione was in the hands of every woman who meditated on the ideal. From a purely aesthetic standpoint the classics were in favour, except Virgil, to whom only the Mantuans remained faithful, probably from local feeling. Ovid, who speaks so well and so much about women, ranked very high. He had been popularised in France by the translations of Octovien de Saint-Gelais and André de la Vigne; illustrated editions went off rapidly, even though the engravings were old. In the very highest artistic spheres, people swore by Cicero.[230] In Margaret of France’s circle the favourite names were Terence and Cicero, Castiglione and Boccaccio. On the reading days, which were principally (we are bound to say) the grey days of existence, when one feels abandoned by God and men, when one is left to “one’s own devices,” people rather sought for light entertainment, if possible gently emotional, or at any rate lively, cheering, affecting. The Bible was very useful for getting glimpses of Heaven without having to run to a monk or a parson, for an intelligent woman cared for nothing lower than a bishop. If they wanted psychology, they went to poetry, novels, romances. A mere sonnet, a little story, very short but with movement and savour, would suffice to cure a casual fit of dumps; in more complicated cases they took up some voluminous romance, which engrossed the attention for long hours and reflected life for the nonce in warm and sunny hues. The literature of the Renaissance was well provided with _Nouvelles_ and _Facéties_, answering all the demands for spiced and piquant reading made even by the platonist ladies.