From these principles there resulted, not a critical scepticism like that of Montaigne, Pascal, or Descartes, but, if one may say so, a vigorous and affirmative scepticism, that is to say, the absolute, perhaps even harsh determination to look the facts of life fairly in the face, as serious but ephemeral matters; and to abstain from giving them colours, shapes, an import which do not belong to them, from throwing a false halo about them. As a drowning man clings to a rope, so Anne of France clung to a precise and objective morality, which, firmly anchored on religious faith, defied discouragements and fatigues as well as illusions. Beyond the restless sea of mundane realities in all their nakedness, it pointed to other realities, which appeared to her just as clear, just as positive, and in which she found a steadfast beacon light. In thus basing feminine education on individualism and a severe conception of the True, Anne feared rather than desired the intrusion of aestheticism. What was required, in her opinion, was to form strong women, vigorous in body and mind: she wished to develop strength of will and stability of character, which are practical virtues. Assuredly she had no personal scorn for the beautiful: she gave proof enough to the contrary. She loved an art full of sap and zest; she was a subtle connoisseur, a royal patron! Delight in beautiful things was so natural to her that she counted on transmitting the taste to her daughter. And she was accomplished in philosophy; she read Plato, a first step which some of the most confirmed lady platonists neglected. But she was persuaded that the period of struggle was only opening for women, and that they must arm themselves to maintain the fight. She had no bent towards German utilitarianism—she could not have contented herself with the studies Luther sanctioned, nor with the elementary programme of virtue which Calvin found all-sufficient: at the same time, she had no greater confidence in the idealism of Rome. The world was not yet perfect enough! She joyfully hailed the dawn, but did not believe that the day was yet fully come. Women must not be content with a dilettante reliance on impressions; they must make what they love an object of thought, and having formed their reasoned conception, must seek to realise it. For them to be queens would be admirable indeed; but for the present it is enough for them to escape crushing. What they need is will, and, as a consequence, intellect and individuality.