Levade used sometimes to sleep in his coffin, and one morning his daughter was alarmed to find him dozing therein.

Gibbon's Library (1879) is covered with wood from floor to ceiling, painted a dull yellowish white. The three windows and a mirror occupy the whole of the south side of the room, and there are no closets for books; but the other three sides are occupied by bookcases built into the wall. There are twentyseven of these bookcases or closets, great and small, each with stout wooden doors and strong keys. Inside remain the movable stained wood shelves, with the racks or supports upon which they could be raised or lowered to suit the size of the books. Around the bookcases runs a projecting shelf.

The floor is in solid pine, smooth with age, and divided into squares by broad bands of dark wood, except in the centre, where there is also a long diamond pattern.

Gibbon was right in saying to Mme. de Sévery, 'The two libraries with their antechamber close like a box'; for he could shut the solid wooden doors of all the bookcases, and then appear to be sitting in a room without a single book. Was this an intentional caprice?

Mme. d'Apples de Molin of La Vauchère told me that when her family moved into the house these closets were still filled with Gibbon's books. She said that it then had only two windows, but there was a cabinet de travail next west of it with one window, which would thus make the three windows which Gibbon says his library possessed. This cabinet de travail disappeared when her granduncle, Colonel de Molin de Montagny, added the large salon with three windows now next to the principal portion of the former library. The cabinet de travail was over a passage which opened on the terrace. The orangery, which had a large glass door and contained a magnificent collection of orange-trees, was on the ground floor beyond the passage just mentioned, and had no storey above it.

Gibbon's pavilion was built of wood. There was a foldingdoor on the west, and another on the east, and a very large window on the south commanding a fine view of the lake, fields, gardens, vineyards, mountains. It was about ten feet square, and a tall man found no difficulty in standing upright within its walls. It stood at the eastern entrance of a berceau

of plum-trees, which formed a verdant gallery completely arched overhead, and extending to the wall of the Route du Petit Chêne. The Porte du Petit Chêne was then standing a short distance below the line of the berceau. The whole length of the terrace, next to the wall, from the greenhouse to the pavilion, was a line of splendid plantains of great size. Gibbon was forced to cut the tops of these magnificent trees,' and the de Montagny family continued the plan, until they arrived at such size and density that it was necessary to destroy them entirely. The berceau and the pavilion were called after Gibbon, La Gibbonnière.

Opposite La Grotte lived Voltaire's friend, Jacques Abram Elie Daniel Clavel, seignior of Brenles, a famous jurisconsult (1717-1771), who succeeded M. de Loys de Bochat as LieutenantBailiff in 1754. In 1768 he was appointed by the King of Prussia to settle his law-suit with Neuchâtel, and succeeded in his delicate task in a most brilliant manner, but was poorly rewarded. Golowkin says that he only received a snuff-box of little value, with the portrait of the King, and a purse of fifty louis. His only published work is the Eulogium on M. de Loys de Bochat (1755), but he was also the author of Lettres relatives à la pacification des troubles survenus à Neuchátel en 1768,' and 'Plaidoyer et Mémoires sur divers sujets,' both in manuscript in the Cantonal Library. His eldest son, Samuel François Louis César Clavel de Brenles (1761-1843), was a friend of Gibbon, and died in the house opposite La Grotte. He had a small key to the garden of La Grotte, and frequently walked on the terrace, being very intimate with the family of Mme. Grenier, mother of M. Constantin Grenier. At eighty he married the Baroness de Schemding, who died in 1878, aged eighty-four. He left no descendants.

M. de Sévery possesses the letter from Mr. Gibbon to M. Polier de St. Germain, and the latter's reply, in which he urges Mr. Gibbon to substitute some trees in place of his favourite plantains, which would not interfere with the view from his (M. de Polier's) house, which is still (1879) standing next to La Grotte.

CHAPTER CLIII

AN undated letter (English), written by Gibbon to Wilhelm de Sévery at Rolle, gives us a glimpse of distinguished foreigners at Lausanne, no doubt towards the close of 1789: Lausanne begins to be very gay; I was invited last Sunday to a grand supper at the Castle with the whole French nation, the Brionne, the Carignan, Montboissier d'Avaux, etc. I was the only Swiss at table. This evening I drink tea with the Princesse de Henin, who declines all public invitations. I have seen the St. Cierges, who are very domestic animals. Every family except your own is now returned. Extremos pudeat rediisse-you understand Latin.' In another note he says: 'I have a great dinner, the Malmsburys, the Beauchamps, the Waalwycks, the Villars, etc., fifteen persons of both sexes. Those English people of Monrepos have not yet seen the house of de Cerjat. What a revolt! Lord Holland is not dead, and Mr. Fox is sufficiently happy to find himself still without fortune and title. Once more adieu. Salute for me the worthy inhabitants of your pretty town, especially the Baron and Felton.'

Gibbon writes from Geneva, where he was staying with the Neckers, to Wilhelm de Sévery at Lausanne, February 17, 1792, and sympathises with him and his family on the illness of his father. He continues:

'I am so satisfied with the life I lead here that without my library and your house, the charms of Lausanne (and Lausanne has charms) would not suffice to recall me there, and I may well remain until the journey to Coppet. . . . I have seen the comedy acted; much ensemble, little talents, but we shall talk of it more at our ease at your hearth or mine. What a succession of news, but we understand absolutely nothing of your Princess of Brunswick. Where is she? What has she attempted to do, what connection with the Emperor? Adieu, my friend, my son, since you permit it. In taking the name of father it is not a vain formula that I employ.'

Gibbon wrote from Lausanne, February 1792, to Wilhelm de Sévery, then staying with Mr. Trevor, British Minister at Turin: