cted families have occasionally
been sadly stained "by hideous exhibitions of cruelty and lust," in
certain instances the result of an unscrupulous disregard of moral
duty and of a vindictive fierceness in avenging injury. It has been
oftentimes remarked that few tragedies which the brain of the novelist
has depicted have surpassed in their unnatural and horrible details
those enacted in real life, for

When headstrong passion gets the reins of reason,
The force of Nature, like too strong a gale,
For want of ballast, oversets the vessel.

Love, indeed, which has been proverbially said to lead to as much evil
as any impulse that agitates the human bosom, must be held responsible
for only too many of those crimes which from time to time outrage
society, for, as the authors of "Guesses at Truth" have remarked,
"jealousy is said to be the offspring of love, yet, unless the parent
make haste to strangle the child, the child will not rest till it has
poisoned the parent." Thus, a tragedy which made the Castle of
Corstorphine the scene of a terrible crime and scandal in the year
1679, may be said to have originated in an unhallowed passion.

George, first Lord Forrester, having no male issue, made an
arrangement whereby his son-in-law, James Baillie, was to succeed him
as second Lord Forrester and proprietor of the estate of Corstorphine.
Just four years after this compact was made, Lord Forrester died, and
James Baillie, a young man of twenty-five, succeeded to the title and
property. But this arrangement did not meet with the approval of Lord
Forrester's daughters, who regarded it as a manifest injustice that
the honours of their ancient family should devolve on an alien--a
feeling of dissatisfaction which was more particularly nourished by
the third daughter, Lady Hamilton, whose husband was far from wealthy.

It so happened that Lady Hamilton had a daughter, Christian, who was
noted for her rare beauty and high spirit. But, unfortunately, she was
a girl of strong passion, which, added to her self-will, caused her,
when she had barely arrived at a marriageable age, to engage herself
to one James Nimmo, the son of an Edinburgh merchant. Before many
weeks had elapsed, the young couple were married, and the handsome
young wife was settled in her new home in Edinburgh. Time wore on, the
novelty of marriage died away, and as Mrs. Nimmo dwelt on her
mercantile surroundings, she recognised more and more what an
il