But by far the worst effects, and the most destructive to domestic peace, are those that occur in cases where spirits, instead of acting on the nerves of motion, and depriving the subject of power in that direction, stimulate the brain so as to produce there the ferocity, the steadiness, the utter deadness to compassion or conscience, which characterise a madman.

How fearful to a sensitive young mother in the period of pregnancy might be the return of such a madman to the domestic roof! Nor can we account for those scenes described in Lady Anne Barnard's letters, where Lord Byron returned from his evening parties to try torturing experiments on his wife, otherwise than by his own statement, that spirits, while they steadied him, made him 'gloomy, and savage to ferocity.' Take for example this:-- 'One night, coming home from one of his lawless parties, he saw me (Lady B.) so indignantly collected, and bearing all with such a determined calmness, that a rush of remorse seemed to come over him.
He called himself a monster, and, though his sister was present, threw himself in agony at my feet.

"I could not, no, I could not, forgive him such injuries! He had lost me forever!" Astonished at this return to virtue, my tears, I believe, flowed over his face; and I said, "Byron, all is forgotten; never, never shall you hear of it more." 'He started up, and folding his arms while he looked at me, burst out into laughter.

"What do you mean ?" said I.

"Only a philosophical experiment; that's all," said he.