f the Conquest of England by the Normans'--an
original work of great value, though since overshadowed by the more
minute 'History of the Norman Conquest,' by Professor Freeman. Yet
Thierry's work is still of great interest, displaying gifts of the
highest and rarest kind in felicitous combination. It shows the careful
plodding of the antiquary, the keen vision of the man of the world,
the passionate fervour of the politician, the calm dignity of the
philosophic thinker, and the grandeur of the epic poet. Thierry
succeeded in exhuming the dry bones of history, clothing them for us
anew, and presenting almost visibly the "age and body of the times" long
since passed away.

Thierry had also written his 'Narratives of the Merovingian Times,' and
revived almost a lost epoch in the early history of France. In
writing out these and other works--the results of immense labour and
research--he partly lost his eyesight. He travelled into Switzerland and
the South of France in the company of M. Fauriel. He could read no
more, and towards the end of the year the remains of his sight entirely
disappeared. He had now to read with the eyes of others, and to dictate
instead of writing. In his works he was assisted by the friendship of M.
Armand Carrel, and the affection and judgment of his loving young wife.

He proceeded with courage, and was able to complete the fundamental
basis of the two Frankish dynasties. He was about to follow his
investigations into the history of the Goths, Huns, and Vandals, and
other races which had taken part in the dismemberment of the empire.
"However extended these labours," he says,{1} "my complete blindness
could not have prevented my going through them; I was resigned as much
as a courageous man can be: I had made a friendship with darkness.
But other trials came: acute sufferings and the decline of my health
announced a nervous disease of the most serious kind. I was obliged to
confess myself conquered, and to save, if it was still time, the last
remains of my health."

The last words of Thierry's Autobiographical Preface are most touching.
"If, as I delight in thinking, the interest of science is counted in the
number of great national interests, I have given my country all that the
soldier mutilated on the field of battle gives her. Whatever may be the
fate of my labours, this example I hope will not be lost. I would wish
it to serve to combat the species of moral weakness which is the disease
o