Last Saturday there was the most violent storm of thunder and lightning I ever saw in Ireland, and once I thought I felt the ground shake under me, for which thought I was at the time laughed to scorn; but I find that at the same time the shock of an earthquake was felt _in the country, which shook Lissard House to its foundations._ I tell it to you in the very words in which it was told to me by Sneyd, who had it from Councillor Cummin. A man was certainly killed by the lightning near Finac, _for_ the said councillor was knocked up at six o'clock in the morning, _to know_ if there was to be a coroner's inquest. _To_ MRS. RUXTON. EDGEWORTHSTOWN, _Aug. 30, 1811._ I have written a little play for our present large juvenile audience, [Footnote: Mrs. Beddoes and her three children were now at Edgeworthstown.] not for them to act, but to hear; I read it out last night, and it was liked. The scene is in Ireland, and the title "The Absentee." When will you let me read it to you? I would rather read it to you up in a garret than to the most brilliant audience in Christendom. Anna's children are very affectionate. Henry is beautiful, and the most graceful creature I ever saw. The eight children are as happy together as the day is long, and give no sort of trouble. What book do you think Buonaparte was reading at the siege of Acre?--_Madame de Staël sur l'influence des Passions_! His opinion of her and of her works has wonderfully changed since then. He does not follow Mazarin's wise maxim, "Let them _talk_ provided they let me _act._" He may yet find the recoil of that press, with which he meddles so incautiously, more dangerous than those cannon of which he well knows the management. _Note Physical and Economical_ I am informed from high authority, that if you give Glauber's salts to hens, they will lay eggs as fast as you please! * * * * * _To_ MISS RUXTON. EDGEWORTHSTOWN, _October 1811._ Davy spent a day here last week, and was as usual full of entertainment and information of various kinds. He is gone to Connemara, I believe, to fish, for he is a little mad about fishing; and very ungrateful it is of me to say so, for he sent to us from Boyle the finest trout! and a trout of Davy's catching is, I presume, worth ten trouts caught by vulgar mortals. Sneyd went with him to Boyle, saw Lord Lorton's fine place, and spent a pleasant day. Two of Mr. Davy's fishing friends have since called upon us: Mr. Solly, a great mineralogist, and Mr. Children, a man of Kent. I am working away at "Patronage," but cannot at all come up to my idea of what it should be. _To_ MRS. MARY SNEYD. ARDBRACCAN HOUSE, _Nov. 1811._