Dealing with rare books, our job can seem a little bit like that
of a detective and a little bit like a scientist. We have to track down clues
and then piece together what information we can, while maintaining objectivity
and without embellishing the facts. Take an enigmatic book in our collection.
Two different works are bound together in one binding: a 1688 Treatise on Japanning and a publication
of the French National Convention from 1793, printed in both French and Arabic.
What are these two works doing together, how did they come to be in our
collection, and what’s the story behind the French publication?
The manuscript label says one thing... |
The first two questions have to do with what’s called
provenance. If we know who the former owner was, that information goes into the
record. This can be the person who gave it to us, or the person whose name
figures on a bookplate. In this case, the volume has a manuscript label: “A
specimen of the Arabic character, with the French translation by C.F. Volney
printed at Paris.” However, the label conflicts with the information on the
title page. The title page says “Translated
into Arabic by P. Ruffin, secretary-interpreter of the Republic, printed by
order of the National Convention, by L. Langlès, guardian of Arabic, Persian,
Tartar-Manchu manuscripts for the National Library.”
...but the title page says something different. |
When we make a catalog record, it’s important to be
objective. That means we report the information that is present in the item,
but we can’t draw conclusions. So, each of these people is included in the
catalog record, under a heading known as “associated name.” But who were these
people, and what did they have to do with the document? Rare-book catalogers
take a couple of steps to identify names when they crop up. The first is to check
in the Library of Congress Name Authorities, and the second is to look at a
dictionary of biography, like Michaud’s Biographie
Universelle.
The Biographie
Universelle contains entries for all three. While dated and partial, they provide
evocative portraits. Langlès comes off as
a mediocre scholar who avidly sought fame and participation in prestigious
projects. Ruffin was a talented linguist and diplomat who served successive
French governments faithfully in the Middle East. And Volney was a
controversial and strongly anticlerical author, celebrated for a variety of
works both on the Middle East and wider historical and political theories.
Significantly, Volney was also an associate of Franklin’s, and spent time in
the United States at the turn of the century.
This last detail suggests Volney might be the missing link.
To try to establish this, the next step is to consult some in-house resources.
When the Library acquires books, they are given accession numbers, which
contain a numerical component and a letter, which identifies the item’s size
format. But in this case, the Accession Records don’t provide any useful leads.
Instead, only the Treatise on Japanning
is listed.
Luckily, the Accession books are not the only resource. The
Board also held regular meetings, and acknowledged gifts at those meetings. So,
taking a look at the minutes, we see the following entry in the Minute book from
a Directors meeting on June 2, 1796:
“The following books were
presented by Mr. C. F. Volney:
1.
A specimen of the Arabic language in Arabic
Characters, with a French translation. Folio pamphlet.
2.
Memoires sur diverses antiquities de la Perse,
par A. J. Sylvestre de Sacy 4o
3.
Odes, Cantites et Poessiés diverses de B.
Rousseau. 4o.
4.
Simplification des langues Orientales, par C.F.
Volney. 8o.
5.
Christie’s Revolution of France, in answer to
Burke.”
Thus we can establish that Volney brought this copy to the
U.S. during his sojourn at the end of the 18th century and that he
gave it to the Library Company, along with the other items. Since Volney was a
linguist and the author of several books about the Middle East and eastern
languages, it is not surprising that he had the pamphlet in his possession. In
fact, when the pamphlet was written, it contained express instructions “…that
each assembly member receive six copies, and that it should be translated into
every language.”
The Committee that wrote the text wanted it widely
disseminated because it laid out some fundamental principles about freedom and
the rule of law:
These sacred principles and
eternal truths should drive all citizens:
A nation should never be ruled by
the whims of some transient power that cedes to every passion; instead, laws
ought to be the sole authority.
Laws exist to guarantee the free
exercise of rights. This precious guarantee is what Man is seeking in political
association, which provides him with a form of government that contains the
citizen within the bounds of his duties.
Any action that hinders the free
exercise of these rights, is a crime against Society.
Individual liberty must only be
limited at the point where it infringes upon the liberty of others; and it is
up to law to recognize and delineate these limits.
Property must be sacred. Far from
the systems governed by sloth and immorality, which diminish the horror of
larceny and establish it as doctrine! Law must uphold property rights, as it
must also ensure all other rights of citizens.
But who should establish the Law?
The sole will of the people, though the representatives to whom they have
delegated this power.
Beyond this point, anything is conjecture. In the same way a
scientist can establish correlation but not causation, a cataloger can’t fill
in the blanks. The Treatise on Japanning and
the National Convention’s address
were pamphlets in the same folio-size format, so at some point they were bound
together. Someone added the manuscript label identifying Volney, but we have no
way of knowing who, or at what point, or what sources they consulted to come up
with the label, or whether they could read French (and it’s doubtful they read
Arabic).
The ornately designed Arabic portion printed in two colors. |
Despite these gaps, the pamphlet is still a fascinating
artifact. The committee writing it clearly felt what they had to say was very
important, and went to a lot of trouble to produce a visually striking edition.
They probably hoped it would end up in the hands of foreign diplomats, but
instead here it is on the shelves of a research library, providing us with a
window onto the French Revolution.
Edith Mulhern
Digitization and Reference Assistant
Edith Mulhern
Digitization and Reference Assistant