DURING the storm on Wednesday, September 10, a house opposite my rooms in Fulham was struck by lightning at 4.40 p.m. Curiously enough, at the moment of the occurrence I was looking at the exact spot, and it may be of interest to record what occurred. A stack of brickwork about ten feet high capped with two red-pot chimneys about three feet high was struck, and a hole was made in the slates of the roof on the south side of the stack. One chimney was shattered. The flash was extremely brilliant and left a perfectly straight line of light on the retina; the length of the flash appeared to be twenty feet, but its upper part was lost in the diffused daylight. The flash was of several seconds' duration and was followed by a thin column of smoke; both these facts are due in my opinion to the fusion of the soot in the chimney. The flash itself was a mere line, otherwise the appearance of the whole strongly reminded me of a cordite discharge from a big gun. There was a loud report, and the circumstances left little doubt in my mind that the electrical discharge was upwards in direction.