After Napoleon III's coup d'état, Michelet lost his position in the Record Office when he refused to take the oaths to the empire.
The new régime kindled afresh his republican zeal, further stimulated by his second marriage to Athénaïs (née Mialaret), a lady of some literary capacity and republican sympathies.
While his great work of history was still his main pursuit, a crowd of extraordinary little books accompanied and diversified it.
Sometimes they were expanded versions of its episodes, sometimes what may be called commentaries or companion volumes.
The first of these was Les Femmes de la Révolution (1854), in which Michelet's natural and inimitable faculty of dithyrambic too often gives way to tedious and not very conclusive argument and preaching.
In the next, L'Oiseau (1856), a new and most successful vein was struck: The subject of natural history, a new subject with Michelet to which his wife introduced him, was treated, not from the point of view of mere science, nor from that of sentiment, but from that of the author's fervent pantheism.

L'Insecte followed.
It was succeeded by L'Amour (1859), one of the author's most popular books.
These remarkable works, half pamphlets half moral treatises, succeeded each other as a rule at the twelve months' interval, and the succession was almost unbroken for five or six years.
L'Amour was followed by La Femme (1860), a book on which a whole critique of French literature and French character might be founded.
Vincent van Gogh used a quote from La Femme on his drawing Sorrow.

Then came La Mer (1861), a return to the natural history class, which, considering the powers of the writer and the attraction of the subject, is perhaps a little disappointing.

The next year (1862) the most striking of all Michelet's minor works, La Sorcière, made its appearance.
Developed out of an episode of the history, it has all its author's peculiarities in the strongest degree.
It is a nightmare and nothing more, but a nightmare of the most extraordinary verisimilitude and poetical power.

This remarkable series, every volume of which was a work at once of imagination and of research, was not even yet finished, but the later volumes exhibit a certain falling off.
The ambitious Bible de l'humanité (1864), a historical sketch of religions, has little merit.
In La Montagne (1868), the last of the natural history series, the tricks of staccato style are pushed even farther than by Victor Hugo in his less inspired moments, though—as is inevitable, in the hands of such a master of language as Michelet—the effect is frequently grandiose if not grand.
Nos fils (1869), the last of the string of smaller books published during the author's life, is a tractate on education, written with ample knowledge of the facts and with all Michelet's usual sweep, and range of view, if with visibly declining powers of expression.
But in a book published posthumously, Le Banquet, these powers reappear at their fullest.
The picture of the industrious and famishing populations of the Riviera is (whether true to fact or not) one of the best things that Michelet has done.
To complete the list of his miscellaneous works, two collections of pieces, written and partly published at different times, may be mentioned.
These are Les Soldats de la révolution and Legendes démocratiques du nord.

Michelet's Origines du droit français, cherchées dans les symboles et les formules du droit universel was edited by Émile Faguet in 1890 and went into a second edition in 1900.

The publication of this series of books, and the completion of his history, occupied Michelet during both decades of the empire.

He lived partly in France, partly in Italy, and was accustomed to spend the winter on the Riviera, chiefly at Hyères.
After Napoleon III's coup d'état, Michelet lost his position in the Record Office when he refused to take the oaths to the empire. The new régime kindled afresh his republican zeal, further stimulated by his second marriage to Athénaïs (née Mialaret), a lady of some literary capacity and republican sympathies. While his great work of history was still his main pursuit, a crowd of extraordinary little books accompanied and diversified it. Sometimes they were expanded versions of its episodes, sometimes what may be called commentaries or companion volumes.The first of these was Les Femmes de la Révolution (1854), in which Michelet's natural and inimitable faculty of dithyrambic too often gives way to tedious and not very conclusive argument and preaching. In the next, L'Oiseau (1856), a new and most successful vein was struck: The subject of natural history, a new subject with Michelet to which his wife introduced him, was treated, not from the point of view of mere science, nor from that of sentiment, but from that of the author's fervent pantheism.
L'Insecte followed. It was succeeded by L'Amour (1859), one of the author's most popular books. These remarkable works, half pamphlets half moral treatises, succeeded each other as a rule at the twelve months' interval, and the succession was almost unbroken for five or six years. L'Amour was followed by La Femme (1860), a book on which a whole critique of French literature and French character might be founded. Vincent van Gogh used a quote from La Femme on his drawing Sorrow.
Then came La Mer (1861), a return to the natural history class, which, considering the powers of the writer and the attraction of the subject, is perhaps a little disappointing.
The next year (1862) the most striking of all Michelet's minor works, La Sorcière, made its appearance. Developed out of an episode of the history, it has all its author's peculiarities in the strongest degree. It is a nightmare and nothing more, but a nightmare of the most extraordinary verisimilitude and poetical power.
This remarkable series, every volume of which was a work at once of imagination and of research, was not even yet finished, but the later volumes exhibit a certain falling off. The ambitious Bible de l'humanité (1864), a historical sketch of religions, has little merit. In La Montagne (1868), the last of the natural history series, the tricks of staccato style are pushed even farther than by Victor Hugo in his less inspired moments, though—as is inevitable, in the hands of such a master of language as Michelet—the effect is frequently grandiose if not grand. Nos fils (1869), the last of the string of smaller books published during the author's life, is a tractate on education, written with ample knowledge of the facts and with all Michelet's usual sweep, and range of view, if with visibly declining powers of expression. But in a book published posthumously, Le Banquet, these powers reappear at their fullest. The picture of the industrious and famishing populations of the Riviera is (whether true to fact or not) one of the best things that Michelet has done. To complete the list of his miscellaneous works, two collections of pieces, written and partly published at different times, may be mentioned. These are Les Soldats de la révolution and Legendes démocratiques du nord.
Michelet's Origines du droit français, cherchées dans les symboles et les formules du droit universel was edited by Émile Faguet in 1890 and went into a second edition in 1900.
The publication of this series of books, and the completion of his history, occupied Michelet during both decades of the empire.
He lived partly in France, partly in Italy, and was accustomed to spend the winter on the Riviera, chiefly at Hyères.
Jules Michelet