lobsters and brandy and water being put in
requisition, it was (as usual on such occasions) broad daylight before
we separated.'--Vol. iii. p.83.

During the latter part of Lady Byron's pregnancy, it appears from Moore
that Byron was, night after night, engaged out at dinner parties, in
which getting drunk was considered as of course the finale, as appears
from the following letters:--

(LETTER 228.)

TO MR. MOORE.

'TERRACE, PICCADILLY, OCT. 31,1815.

'I have not been able to ascertain precisely the time of duration of
the stock-market; but I believe it is a good time for selling out, and
I hope so. First, because I shall see you; and, next, because I shall
receive certain moneys on behalf of Lady B., the which will materially
conduce to my comfort; I wanting (as the duns say) "to make up a sum."

'Yesterday I dined out with a large-ish party, where were Sheridan and
Colman, Harry Harris, of C. G., and his brother, Sir Gilbert
Heathcote, Ds. Kinnaird, and others of note and notoriety. Like other
parties of the kind, it was first silent, then talky, then
argumentative, then disputatious, then unintelligible, * then
altogethery, then inarticulate, and then drunk. When we had reached
the last step of this glorious ladder, it was difficult to get down
again without stumbling; and, to crown all, Kinnaird and I had to
conduct Sheridan down a d---d corkscrew staircase, which had certainly
been constructed before the discovery of fermented liquors, and to
which no legs, however crooked, could possibly accommodate themselves.
We deposited him safe at home, where his man, evidently used to the
business, {181} waited to receive him in the hall.

'Both he and Colman were, as usual, very good; but I carried away much
wine, and the wine had previously carried away my memory: so that all
was hiccough and happiness for the last hour or so, and I am not
impregnated with any of the conversation. Perhaps you heard of a late
answer of Sheridan to the watchman who found him bereft of that
"divine particle of air" called reason . . . He (the watchman) found
Sherry in the street fuddled and bewildered, and almost insensible.
"Who are you, sir?"--No answer. "What's your name?"--A hiccough.
"What's your name?"--Answer, in a slow, deliberate, and impass