‘Uncaterpillaring’ trees

One of the more topically interesting laws found amongst the 148 pamphlets in Case folio FRC 10347, many of which concern forced loans and other financial topics, is pamphlet no. 96, Loi qui ordonne l’échenillage des arbres (26 ventôse, an IV). This law calls for land owners to systematically remove and destroy all caterpillars, their webs, and caterpillar bags from all trees, hedges, and bushes on their property.  Throughout my time cataloging the FRC collection I  have encountered many pamphlets concerning crops and food supply (usually about grains), but this is the first pamphlet I have come across that targets caterpillars for their destruction of trees.  Occasionally pamphlets on the grain industry will mention aphids and similar pests, but I have yet to encounter one that directly targets the destruction of a certain insect like Case folio FRC 10347 no. 96 does.

In the introduction to the articles of the law the destruction caused by caterpillars in previous years is cited as a reason to take action against such pests:

“…il est urgent de prendre des mesures pour la destruction des chenilles, qui ont fait de grands ravages les années dernieres …”

The articles of the law set out the penalties for land owners who do not comply with the law (a hefty fine), as well as call for the removal of caterpillars from public lands in each department. To ensure that land owners have complied, agents of each department will be sent to inspect both private and public lands to make sure that the caterpillars have been removed.

The removal of caterpillars was to be an annual occurrence , to be completed by 1 ventôse (late February) each year, again liable to significant fines if a land owner was negligent in his compliance. To ensure that no one would forget about the annual caterpillar removal the law was to be re-printed and distributed by 1 pluviôse (late January) each year.

It seems likely that this law was necessitated not merely because of the caterpillar’s destruction of foliage, but rather the potential for considerable damage to crops (particularly to fruit trees).  The verb cheniller seems to be directly connected to this law of 26 ventôse, an IV.  Nearly every GoogleBooks  result that I found, in both English and French 19th century agricultural books, when searching for ‘echeniller’ and ‘arbres’ mentioned the law and its penalties for landowners.  Unfortunately, my cursory search for an etymology of the word has not yielded any results.

 

 

French: The Language of Champions.

Coming from a language, literature, and linguistics background, it is always exciting for me to come across a pamphlet that discusses such topics. One pamphlet in particular stuck out to me (and I’m beginning to think that perhaps it’s the author’s way with words that always reels me in, considering that he is the same author of a pamphlet that I discussed in a previous blog post as well) because of its very matter-of-fact, yet absurd claims on the supremacy of the French language. That pamphlet is Jean François Sobry’s Discours sur la prééminence de la langue françoise (Case FRC 25576). Even though I am well aware that Sobry was probably writing with the most serious of intentions and opinions, I can’t help but find his reasoning and logic entertaining and downright humorous. He conveys his very strong opinions in the best possible way—by stating them without any sort of proof to support their validity. That being said, perhaps there really is an air of truth to what he is saying (that French really is superior to all other languages), because by the end of the pamphlet I felt myself more convinced with his argument than I thought I would be. There really is something about the way that Sobry expresses himself (through the use of the French language, obviously) that made his argument sound clear and concise, yet simultaneously rich and beautiful. Coincidentally, that is one of his main arguments for its preeminence.

Sobry claims that unlike all other languages, including Latin and Greek, French is essentially logical and has a linguistic and grammatical base that is unmatched in its ability to be both useful and expressive without leaving the speaker wanting or in a muddled mess. Sobry speaks of this perfect balance found in French as “proportional,” and able to render a person’s thoughts precise, clear, and exact—just as the mind created them. He even goes so far as to say that the great Roman philosopher Cicero would have been better served by French than by Latin. In short, Sobry remarks that Cicero had some good ideas, but that they weren’t very useful to people because of their lack of clarity, a clarity that of course could have been given to them through the use of the French language.

Among the other humorous opinions expressed by Sobry in this pamphlet, his rapid and almost disgusted dismissal of other languages left a smile on my face. I will give a quick synopsis below (and perhaps I turn to expressing myself in this clumsy and undignified manner because of my inability to adequately express myself through the vulgarity that is the English language):

• Spanish: Too redundant and loud, with an emphasis that swells up thoughts and ideas and takes away from their true meaning and validity by expressions that are filled with the sound of outrage.
• Italian: Languid and without energy or interest, despite the clickety-clack of its words that try in vain to elevate it to something that it is not.
• German: Impractical, bitter, and harsh. A language in which even the most supple lips cannot express the sounds of the consonants.
• English: Bizarre. Nothing more than an accumulation of French words constructed in Saxon phrases that, as a result, only deliver ideas that are broken, incoherent, and unintelligible.
• Asian and African languages: Insupportably guttural, but of no consequence because French is the language that has the most common usage in those regions anyway. It goes by the name of Frank and not French, but is really only the French language corrupted by a little bit of local jargon and a smattering of Italian words.
• Latin: Not complex enough to allow the true expression of one’s thoughts through spoken or written word, something that leaves listeners and readers clouded in their comprehension.

As outlandish as a lot of Sobry’s claims are, one can’t help but admire his zeal and passion for using the French language (that just so happens to be superior to all other languages) as an agent for the unification and pride of the nation. Sobry believes that language is able to achieve a great number of things that government, military, laws, legislation, and brute force cannot, and on that point I couldn’t agree with him more (well…with that and maybe with his stance on Italian…)!

For favorites, pride goeth before a fall

For your consideration, two cautionary tales.

Royal favorites—whether confidants, lovers, or powerful political lieutenants—were magnets for controversy, their rise and fall followed closely by politicos and populace alike. In quick succession, the Saint Sulpice Collection has recently offered up pamphlets dealing with a couple of these characters.

The first, La disgrace de Baradas (Case folio BX4060.A1 S25 ser. 1 v. 6 no. 6) of 1626, lambastes François de Baradas (1602-1684), the handsome officer of the royal household who was Louis XIII’s first love. Written as an allegory in the voice of “Maistre Bontemps,” La disgrace de Baradas mercilessly takes to task “ces petits Phaetonneax d’orgueil & d’ambition” (these little Phaëtons of pride and ambition) who overreach and get their comeuppance. It took only six months for Baradas to fall from favor, either for fighting an illegal duel or for taking other lovers; the sources disagree. This episode made “la fortune de Baradas” a French idiom for short-lived good fortune.

The second pamphlet, the Histoire admirable, et declin pitoyable aduenu en la personne d’vn fauory de la Cour d’Espagne (Case folio BX4060.A1 S25 ser. 1 v. 12 no. 7), tells the tale of Rodrigo Calderón (1580s-1621), secretary to Francisco Gómez de Sandoval, Duke of Lerma, who was, in turn, the royal favorite or valido of King Philip III of Spain. Wielding enormous political power, Lerma left much of the work—and eventually its consequences—to his trusted secretary. The duke was savvy enough to seek out a cardinalship, giving him ecclesiastical immunity from prosecution, so when he fell from power in 1618 he couldn’t be touched. His enemies, instead, set upon Calderón, who was convicted of several murders and a host of lesser charges. The Histoire admirable is devoted mostly to the pitiable decline (ever the more interesting part), specifically Calderón’s torture and execution in 1621, along with details of what became of his wealth.

Like Baradas, Calderón contributed to his nation’s lexicon.  He took his death sentence with such bravery (bravado?), that even today a person who is immoderately proud is said to “tener más orgullo que Don Rodrigo en la horca” (be prouder than Don Rodrigo on the scaffold).

Organization (and the lack thereof) of revolutionary pamphlets

After cataloging over 8000 pamphlets in the French Revolution Collection, it starts to get pretty easy to find broad categories of pamphlets. One interesting aspect of this project has been the ability to track changes in government publications. As mentioned in some of my previous posts, by far the most common printer/publisher in the collection is the Imprimerie nationale and various permutations thereof (Imprimerie de la République, Imprimerie royale, Imprimerie nationale executive du Louvre, etc., as well as François-Jean Baudouin, who was the official printer of most of the legislative bodies from the latter part of the reign of Louis XVI through the First Empire). This allows the researcher (or the cataloger who sees these pamphlets daily over the course of several months) to easily track the changes in government publishing, and enables one to divine the relative time period (and under which government) the pamphlets were published.

Pamphlets published during the reign of Louis XVI are, in some ways, the most difficult to track. For the most part, they were published without any indication of publisher, printer, bookseller, etc. The majority of the pamphlets that do have some indication generally list an individual’s name, usually with the qualification “premier imprimeur ordinaire du roi” or similar. This method of assigning responsibility is consistent throughout the entire collection for pamphlets originally distributed by the central government and then re-published by provincial printers. A relatively small number of pamphlets do have a corporate name – the Imprimerie royale. This attribution is more common in quarto- or folio-sized pamphlets than it is in smaller formats.

The later into the revolutionary period these pamphlets get, the more organized the publication information seems to be. Those pamphlets published earlier in the Revolution are not significantly different than those published during the reign of Louis XVI – dates are frequently absent, although publisher names become more common for government publications.  The government publications in this collection appear to really start to become organized and consistent with the ratification of the Constitution of 1791. While pamphlets published by the Assemblée nationale législative still frequently lack publication dates, most pamphlets at least list a person or corporate body responsible for the printing, and there is generally a session date or some other relatively obvious indication of the date.

This trend towards standardization continues  throughout the period, with each subsequent body becoming more consistent in how government publications are presented.  Nearly every pamphlet published by the Convention nationale includes, at a minimum, either a corporate printer’s name or that of François-Jean Baudouin as well as a session date, publication date, or both. By the time of the Constitution of 1795 and the introduction of the Directoire, the

Colophon from Case FRC 11727

format was pretty much standard across all pamphlets published by the central government in Paris, and even provincial editions of works issued by the legislature all follow the same formula that includes all of the “important” publication information – place of publication, a printer’s name, the date of publication, and in most cases the session date when the content was originally presented. This format remained  after Napoleon’s coup d’état and even through the reign of Louis XVIII.

This trend – instituted explicitly by the government in various publications from the period (see Case FRC 18065, Case FRC 22860, and Case folio FRC 9831 no. 59 for examples) fits in with the larger narrative associated with Early Modern France – the increasing centralization of power and culture and the subservience of the local aristocracy to the government in Paris.

Concino Concini: devils, demons & ghosts in Saint-Sulpice ser. 1 v. 4

Concino Conini, a noble Florentine, entered the French court as a favorite of Marie de Médicis, queen consort of Henry IV of France.  His wife, Léonora Galigaï, was a lady-in-waiting and confidante of the queen. Concini had great influence over Marie de Médicis and assumed a great deal of political power after the assassination of Henry IV in 1610.  By 1613 Concini had amassed the titles of marquis d’Ancre, first gentleman-in-waiting, superintendent to the queen, governor of Perone, Roye, and Montdidier, and maréchal de France.  Through Marie de Médicis’ patronage Concini became a powerful political figure and drew hatred from the French nobility and people. There was a great distrust of the foreign queen and her foreign favorite.  Some modern literature compares his influence on the queen to that of Rasputin.

Concino Concini (1575-1617).

Henry IV’s assassination by François Ravaillac in 1610 raised his young son Louis XIII to the throne at the age of 8.  As Louis was too young to rule his mother Marie de Médicis ruled as regent.  Even though Louis came of age in 1614 the queen refused to give up her ruling power, citing that Louis was ‘too feeble’ to rule.  On 24 April 1617 Louis and his supporters, particularly his favorite Charles d’Albert duc de Luynes, led a coup d’etat to seize the throne.  Louis ordered the assassination of Concini and exiled the queen to Blois.  Concini was shot by Nicolas de l’Hospital, baron de Vitry, captain of the garde des corps, and Concini’s body was discreetly buried at the church of Saint-Germain-l’Auxerrois. The body was soon exhumed and drug through the streets of Paris where it was lambasted by the citizens and raised on the pont Neuf.  Concini’s widow was put to trial for sorcery, found guilty and executed a few months later on 8 July 1617.  With the death of Concini there was “an outpouring of pamphlets [that] rejoiced at France’s liberation from the Italian tyrant…the ritual mutilations performed on [Concini's] body were equated with the havoc his opponents claimed he had caused within the body of France” (Exploring cultural history : essays in honor of Peter Burke, 125-126).

Case folio BX4060.A1 S25 ser. 1 v. 4  contains nine pamphlets regarding Concini’s death.  Pamphlets nos. 6, 7, and 12 are of particular interest because they are satirical treatments of Concini’s death including commentary by Concini’s ghost.

Case folio BX4060.A1 S25 ser. 1 v. 4 no. 6, Inventaire des pieces, memoires et instructions du proces intente par pissant haut & redoutable saigneur Messire Concino Coyon, coquefredouille, marque d’Ancre, pretendant a l’empire francois, recalls the political events surrounding Concino’s assassination, and presents 92 points regarding Concino’s political acts, and the diabolical intrigues and subterfuges of Concino’s followers to vilify Concio. The introductory letter by the author, Happeloppin procuereur d’enfer (p. 6-8)is addressed to ‘Messieurs moldy-bread, & bad-wine, councilors of Beelzebub, in his grand smoky and twisted chamber of hell’ (A messieurs messieurs moisy-pain, & gaste-vin, conseilleurs de Beelzebuth, en sa grand chambre enfumee & entortillee d’enfer).

The following inventaire  casts the account of Concino’s political actions as a plot of Beelzebub beginning with Philip II of Spain ‘troubling the kingdom of France’ and including a political events leading up to Louis XIII’s coup and assassination of Concino.  Throughout the pamphlet Concino is equated with Cain, Judas, the Jesuite Pierre Coton, and Henry IV’s assassin Ravaillac; mention of the devil, his minions, and the fires of hell fill Happeloppin’s writing.

 

Case folio BX4060.A1 S25 ser. 1 v. 4 no. 6

Case folio BX4060.A1 S25 ser. 1 v. 4 no. 6 - A Messieurs moisy-pain, & gaste-vin, conseilleurs de Beelzebuth

InCase folio BX4060.A1 S25 ser. 1 v. 4 no. 7, Le testament et derniere volonte du sieur Concini de Conchino, iadis pretendu mareschal de France, apporte en se monde par un des ses gentilshommes, qui fut tue aupres de Nanterre, leque s’adresse au villageois qui le tua : plus est comprins un discours de la rencontre dudit Conchio & de Ravaillac, en form de dialogue, Concini’s ghost appears to those who killed him and gives his last will and testament through one of his gentlemen who were killed with him. In his dialogue with the villageois  Concini’s gentleman reveals details about Concini’s life in hell and states that ‘already he has stirred up wars in hell and would like to take Pluto’s place and has had a long dispute with Ravaillac’ (…qu’il a desja esmu beaucoup de guerres aux enfers, & mesme vouloit prendre la place de Pluton: puis a long-temps dispute avec Ravaillac, scavoir qui auroit le premier lieu). 

Last but not least is my favorite Concini pamphlet,  Case folio BX4060.A1 S25 ser. 1 v. 4 no. 12, Dialogue de la Galligaya et de Misoquin esprit follet, qui luy ameine son mary : la rencontre dudit esprit avec l’ange gardien de Monsieur le prince, which features two full-page wood-cut engravings of Concini’s demon and phantom.  The text opens with the speaker (the guardian angel of the title?) encountering Léonora Galigaï in prison and witnessing her call forth the demon, Misoquin, that had protected her husband.  The demon (depicted on the following page in a wood-cut engraving) is described thus:

I was the strange figure of a spirit, its eyes deceptive , a mouth or rather an abyss, without a nose, having the body of a caterpillar, its  without arms or legs, I believe that it was one of the demons that are named aquatic.

(Je voy un esprit de figure estrange, les yeux esgarez, une bouche ou plustost un goufre, sans nez, ayat le corps comme une chenille, des aisles, sans bras ny jambes, je croy que c’estoit de ces daemons qu’on nomme aquatiques… p. 7)

Case folio BX4060.A1 S25 ser. 1 v. 4 no. 12 - Concini's demon

Saint-Sulpice ser. 1 v. 4 no. 12 – Portraict du mauvais demon, gardant Conchini

In dialog that follows between Leonora and Misoquin, the demon calls forth the spirit of Concini to speak to his wife.  Concini’s phantom (again represented by a wood-cut engraving) appears without hands or feet.  When his wife points out his missing hands and feet Concini explains that Pluto removed his hands in fear of his riches, and his feet were worn away when his regiment was defeated.

Case folio BX4060.A1 S25 ser. 1 v. 4 no. 12 - Fantosme de Conchini

These three pamphlets demonstrate the anti-Concini rhetoric that was rampant in political pamphlets of the era and highlight the common belief that Léonora Galigaï (and perhaps Concini himself) was engaged in sorcery to preserve the Concini’s political power.

Into the Swing of Things.

The beginning of April marked my seventh month here at the Newberry working on the CLIR project, and I can proudly say that I am finally a fully functioning (well, in so many words) member of the CLIR team! I have gradated to being able to add my own subject headings to records, have my portfolios go straight to peer-review (as opposed to going only to Jessica), being able to produce my own records, and being able to take part in the peer-review process myself! Being able to work my way through the training process has definitely helped to make everything much easier to grasp, and I can honestly say that although at times things were quite challenging and even a bit frustrating, there has never been a time when I felt overwhelmed or defeated. I think that that fact should serve as a testament to those who have helped train me along the way, and to the training process used on this project in general. I would definitely rate it as a success.

Of all of the different methods that have been employed to help me understand exactly what a cataloger does and what is expected out of us as members of the CLIR team, I would have to say that the exercise that has helped me quite significantly during this entire process is the act of participating in the peer-review. When I was first told that I had finally reached the point where I could start doing this, I was pretty intimidated (I mean, who am I to review the work of catalogers who have been doing this for years?), but my concerns were soon put to rest with kind and encouraging words from all of my colleagues. As I got into the process I quickly saw that this was an exercise that would help me recall and apply all of the knowledge that I have been picking up along the way during my training. What better way to solidify what you know than by reviewing the work of your peers?

Additionally, being able to see the records that other members of the team have produced, what subject headings they used for which type of documents, etc. is really helping me to be exposed to more material that I can apply to my own cataloging. I appreciate coming across all of the very specific (and incredibly handy!) subject headings that I wish I had known about all along. There have definitely been some silent (or maybe not so silent) exclamations of joy and excitement upon discovering these new and helpful subject headings, and I look forward to what I will continue to learn! As it stands, I am very much enjoying all of the new responsibilities that I have (producing records, peer-editing, doing second day checks, etc.) and would now like to work on increasing my levels of production. Thanks again to everyone who has helped me and been so friendly and patient with me along the way!

Researching Catholic clergy

Many of the religious collections at the Newberry Library, including the Saint-Sulpice Collection, are comprised of works by and about Catholic bishops and cardinals.  Just as we would do for any item that we catalog, we strive to create a normalized, uniform name heading for the author or subject as part of our authority control efforts.  Of course, not every person is accounted for in large, freely available authority files like the Library of Congress Authorities, so we must use other reference sources to discover the most common name by which a person is known (e.g. John Samuel Smith or John S. Smith?) and, if necessary, his or her birth or death dates.

The Hierarchy of the Catholic Church, while not officially sanctioned or maintained by the Catholic Church, is a website that has been particularly helpful for creating full name headings for both clergy and dioceses.  It is arranged by diocese, bishop, country, and major events in the Catholic Church and includes current and historical information.

A simple turn of phrase

From the opening of the Description d’un grand ouvrage fait au tour simple, par M. Barreau (Saint Sulpice Collection ser. 1 v. 6 no. 16):

The author, in putting together this work, had the intention of rendering it worthy of His Imperial and Royal Majesty [Napoleon].  He wanted to honor him with a piece that united all the difficulties of an art the perfection of which is indispensably applicable to the other arts that will use the procedures for so long sought and found by M. Barreau, by the sole activity of tour simple.

(L’auteur, en composant cet ouvrage, a eu l’intention de le rendre digne de S.M.I. et R. Il a voulu lui faire hommage d’une pièce qui réunis toutes les difficultés d’un art, dont la perfection est indispensablement applicable aux autres arts qui utiliseront pour eux-mêmes les procédés cherchés long-temps, et trouvés par M. Barreau, par la seule activité du tour simple.)

The pamphlet goes on to describe in some detail the work of art in question, as one would expect given the title, but it took some detective work to discover the very simple definition of tour simple.  That term and “l’art du tour” are such generic phrases that finding an apt definition was a little tricky.  M. Barreau’s surname—which means “bar” (also the legal kind)—does not help matters.  As with so many linguistic conundrums, once I found the answer, it seems obvious: M. Barreau was an expert wood turner.

Among practitioners of the art, François Barreau (1731-1814) is a  well-known figure, in fact the greatest turner of 18th-century France.  He was known in the ancien regime, survived the Revolution, and lived into the 19th century when he presented his masterworks to the emperor and was acclaimed by the artistic and scientific establishment.  Perhaps one of our Sulpicians had a soft spot for him, since this pamphlet is followed by four more, all of which are official reports on the fabulousness of Barreau’s creations.

Example of work by Francois Barreau (from the site "Bois d'Harmonie")

One of these reports, made at the 79th meeting of the Athénée des Arts, 6 September 1807, ends with a description of the literal crowning of this master artist:

Monsieur, seventy-six years of work have only refined your taste without changing the firmness of this hand accustomed to producing new marvels every day. In your hand, the simple chisel is turning’s scepter: in the name of the Athénée des Arts, I place upon your head the crown.

(Monsieur, soixante-seize ans de travail n’ont fait qu’épurer votre goût sans altérer la fermeté de cette main habituée à produire chaque jour de nouveaux prodiges. Pour elle le simple ciseau est le sceptre du tour : au nom de l’Athénée des Arts, j’en pose sur votre tête la couronne.)

Photographs of Barreau’s work are hard to come by on the web (one exception is the linked photo above), but his works are held in prominent French museums, including the Louvre.

Making assumptions about the Sulpicians

Portrait of Louis Boucherat

Case folio BX4060.A1 S25 ser. 2 v. 5 no. 3

One of the emphases in cataloging materials at the Newberry, and one of the special focus of the library’s collections as a whole is the examination of collections of materials. Putting together a collection requires certain decisions, and analyzing the state of the collection can help provide insights into the motives of the collectors who put them together.

The Saint-Sulpice Collection provides some easy opportunities for putting these principles into practice. From a cataloging perspective, these collection-management decisions make a real impact on the cataloging workflow – dramatically, in the case of these materials.

The obvious aspect of the Saint-Sulpice Collection is the binding – unlike the French Revolution Collection, where virtually all of the pamphlets are loose, the Saint-Sulpice materials have been bound into discrete volumes. This makes the material more useful from a user-centered perspective, assuming a relatively small number of individuals will be accessing the material, but presents technical difficulties when cataloging the material. This is compounded by the organizational method used on these volumes.

The collection is organized biographically by subject – this (probably) reflects the purpose of the collection – it is not organized by author, so the emphasis is demonstrably not on the potential literary criticism aspects of the collection. This organization was taken to such an extreme that collective biographies were, for the most part, split so that the pages dealing with specific individuals were bound with the other material on those persons. This creates fairly unpleasant chores for the cataloger, who must then decide to either create a record for the intact item and link all the various parts (strewn across multiple volumes) or to create new records for each individual part and somehow convey that they “belong” to a larger volume.

While these decisions create more work for lonely catalogers, they make sense in the context of the collection and its uses. Binding all of the pamphlets into larger volumes makes them less likely to be misplaced and helps protect the original ephemera from damage. Binding the items together and organizing them by subject rather than author is also much more convenient for users. All the items on a given individual are contiguous, and because they are bound together no matter how they are used, short of disbinding  the volume, they will not end up out-of-order.  In some ways, this demonstrates how much library collections have changed – techniques which make organizing a collection easier in an age before fancy OPACs now make cataloging more time consuming, if not more difficult.

Separated pamphlets in Saint-Sulpice

One of the issues that has arisen in cataloging the Saint-Sulpice Collection ser. 2 volumes is dealing with pamphlets which were separated and bound in several different volumes.  As a vast majority of the pamphlets in Saint-Sulpice Collection ser. 2 are funeral sermons, elegies, and biographies they are organized, more-or-less, alphabetically by the last name of the person who is the subject of the pamphlet.  We have discovered a few pamphlets that include biographies of several individuals that were separated and bound in their respective alphabetical places within the volumes of ser. 2.  The first of these that I have worked with is a circular letter from the sisters of the Monastere Visitation Sainte Marie of Paris and Nancy listing the sisters who died in 1731 and including a short biography of each of their lives.  So far we have found three different sections of the pamphlet bound in three different volumes: p. 1-4 (ser. 2 v. 15 no. 24), p. 5-12  (ser. 2 v. 39 no. 25 ), and p. 13-32 (ser. 2 v. 7 no. 9).  It seems as if these three sections make up the entire pamphlet, but it is possible that another section falling after p. 32 exists and may be bound in yet another volume.

Another pamphlet that is bound in three volumes is M. Vicq-d’Azyr‘s Suite des éloges lus dans les séances publiques de la Société royale de médecine (sixième cahier).  Pages 41-65 are bound in ser. 2 v. 29 no. 7; pages 65-110 are bound in ser. 2. v. 49 no. 4; and pages 147-165 are bound in ser.2 v. 24 no. 18.  Since there are records in OCLC for the full pamphlet we know that the extent of the pamphlet is 165 pages.  It is possible that we will find the remainder of the missing sections as we continue to catalog the ser. 2 volumes.

The difficulty in dealing with the separated pamphlets lies in the notes that must be added to our catalog entries.  As we discover pieces of separated pamphlets it is important for us to edit the records that have already been made to reflect that we do have more of the pamphlet in question and where it is bound.  As you can imagine it is a bit bothersome to have created a new record for a specific portion of a pamphlet (not knowing that other sections exist in other volumes) only to discover some of the missing pages in another volume and have to go back and make changes to several fields to reflect the discovery.  However, as bothersome as it can be to make changes to several records in such instances, it is exciting to piece together the parts of a separated pamphlet (through catalog records, not physically) to show the intricacies that come in a bound-with collection such as Saint-Sulpice.