On Wiltshive Ceather Proverbs and 
| GHeather Fallacies. 
By the Rey. A. C. Smiru, M.A. 
[Read before the Society at Swindon, September, 1873.]* 
T is not unfrequently remarked by foreigners, and that too 
al with no little amount of ridicule, in speaking of the habits 
of the British people, that the Englishman’s universal salutation 
to his acquaintance, his first and chief topic of conversation, when 
he meets his friend, is the weather; its past, or present, or future 
state. 
Now not to mention what a very natural subject, and of what. 
universal interest such a topic at once offers for what is by no means 
intended as a profound remark or matter for discussion ; but only a 
civil friendly salutation, or an opening for farther conversation ; it 
is worth while to remember of what enormous and general importance 
the state of the weather really is to us; what a vast difference it 
makes not only to the comfort and enjoyment, but to the well-being 
and prosperity of tens of thousands amongst us. For living, as we 
are, in a sea-girt island, and proverbially visited with a considerable 
amount of cloud, rain, and vapour in many shapes :? subject too, as 
*This paper which (as read before the Society) chiefly related to the proverbs of Wiltshire, 
has since been considerably added to, more especially in the direction of illustrating and com- 
paring our County proverbs with those peculiar to other parts of England, and with those of 
France and Germany. For this I must acknowledge my obligations to a little ‘* Handbook of 
Weather Lore,” by the Rev. C. Swainson (1873): and I am also indebted to Notes and Queries, 
passim, and various kindred works. 
1A Frenchman once asked me at Lyons, seriously, and by no means asa/joke, 
whether it was true that in England we never saw the sun, but were always 
enveloped in fog, ‘‘brouillard, toujours brouillard ” as was commonly reported ? 
I certainly did think that somewhat strong, coming from an inhabitant of Lyons, 
which, standing between two great rivers, the Rhéne and the Sadne, is, without 
any exception, the very foggiest place I have ever seen, and on the five occasions 
when I have visited it, there was certainly ‘‘ brouillard, toujours brouillard,”’ 
in every instance. Could any Frenchman say the same of five visits to London ? 

