s, and that, so far from this regime affecting his spirits, it made
him feel lighter and more lively; and, in short, gave him _greater
command over himself in all respects. This great abstinence is almost
incredible.... He thought great eaters were generally prone to anger,
and stupid._"[58]

It was about this time that he made the personal acquaintance of Moore
at a dinner given by Rogers for the purpose of bringing them together
and of reconciling them.

"As none of us," says Moore, "knew about his singular regime, our host
was not a little embarrassed on discovering, that there was nothing on
the table which his noble guest could eat or drink. Lord Byron did not
touch meat, fish, or wine; and as to the biscuits and soda-water he
asked for, there were, unfortunately, none in the house. He declared he
was equally pleased with potatoes and vinegar, and on this meagre
pittance he succeeded in making an agreeable dinner."[59]

About the same time, being questioned by one of his friends, who liked
good living, as to what sort of table they had at the Alfred Club, to
which he belonged, "It is not worth much," answered Lord Byron. "I speak
from hearsay; for what does cookery signify to a vegetable-eater? But
there are books and quiet; so, for what I care, they may serve up their
dishes as they like."

"Frequently," says Moore again, "during the first part of our
acquaintance we dined together alone, either at St. Alban's, or at his
old asylum, Stevens's. Although occasionally he consented to take a
little Bordeaux, he _always held to his system of abstaining from meat_.
He seemed truly persuaded that animal food must have some particular
influence on character. And I remember one day being seated opposite to
him, engaged in eating a beefsteak with good appetite, that, after
having looked at me attentively for several seconds, he said, gravely,
'Moore, does not this eating beefsteaks make you ferocious?'

"Among the numerous hours we passed together this spring, I remember
particularly his extreme gayety one evening on returning from a soiree,
when, after having accompanied Rogers home, Lord Byron--who, according
to his frequent custom, had not dined the last two days--feeling his
appetite no longer governable, asked for something to eat. Our repast,
at his choice, consisted only of bread and cheese; but I have rarely
made a gayer meal in my life."

In 1814 he relaxed his diet a little, so far as to eat fish now and
th