Fred went to see them, and David's garden strawberries were found to be
no larger than one of his ordinary-sized marbles.
"Come," says James to Harry, "let us go and get some blackberries; there
are _oceans_ of them on yonder hedge."
"Oceans!" said James in wonder.
"Yes, oceans; only you must mind in getting them that you don't fall
into the ditch, or you will be _over your head_ in mud."
James went with Harry, and found that the blackberries were as sparse on
the hedge as plums in his school pudding, and as for mud to cover him,
he saw scarcely enough to come over his boots.
Another boy says, "I am so thirsty, I could drink the _sea dry_."
Another, "I learned my lessons to-day in _no time_." Another, standing
in the cold, says, "I am _frozen to death_." Another, in the heat, says,
"I am _as hot as fire_." "My father's horse is _the best in the
kingdom_," says John. "My father's is _the best in the world_," says
Alexander in reply. "Oh, how it did hail in our parts yesterday," said a
boy to his schoolmate; "the hail-stones were as _big as hens' eggs_."
"That's nothing," said his rival in return; "in our parts it rained
_hens and chickens_." "Well," said the other, despairing of going beyond
that, "that was wonderful; I never heard of it raining like that
before."
The above kind of talk may by some be regarded as only "inoffensive
ebullitions" of childhood and youth. It is not said that moral guilt may
be its immediate consequence; but is it a kind of talk altogether
innocent? Does it sound truthful? Is it a habit to be encouraged or
connived at? Should not all who have the education and training of young
persons correct the evil when it appears, and in the place of it
cultivate that speech which is made up of words of "truth and
soberness"?
The Hyperbolist not only shows himself in talk which _magnifies_ beyond
the natural, the simple, and the true; but which also _diminishes_. "He
said nothing of any account--nothing worth your hearing," observed one
friend to another, respecting a certain lecturer; when perhaps he
uttered thoughts of weight and force worthy the attention of highest
wisdom. He expressed this hyperbolism to allay some disappointment which
his friend felt in not hearing him. "The affair is really of such little
consequence that it is not worth your while to think about it;" at the
same time it involved questions of vital importance to him. This he said
to divert his mind from brooding over it to his injury. "I never saw
such a small watch in all my life; it was hardly bigger than a
sixpence;" and yet it was of the ordinary size of a lady's watch. "It is
no distance to go, and the hill is nothing to climb; you will get there
in the time you are standing hesitating;" and this a father said to
induce his son to go into the country on an errand for which he showed
strong disinclination. "The duties are of such a trifling nature, you
may perform them with perfect ease;" so said a minister to persuade a
member of his church to undertake a responsible office against which he
had conscientious objections.
Thus the Hyperbolist stands on either side of truth, and takes from or
adds to, according to the temper of his mind and the object he wishes to
accomplish. On whichever side he stand his talk is alike blamable.
Let me, in conclusion, caution my readers, and especially my young
readers, against the formation and practice of this intemperate habit in
talking. It is of no service to truth. It does no good to you or others,
but harm. It will grow upon you, and may end in the habit of absolute
_false speaking_. You do not mean now to be recognized as telling lies:
you would perhaps shudder at the thought; but what you now shudder at,
you may fall into, by the inadvertent formation of habitual exaggerated
talk. Therefore guard against these excessive and thoughtless
hyperbolisms of speech. Speak of things, persons, and places as you
_see_ them, not as you fancy; speak to convey correct views, not to
excite wonder or to rival others in "large talk," and in "strange
things." _Simple truth_ is always more welcome in society than swollen
fiction. The frog in the fable killed itself by trying to be as big as
the ox; so you are in danger of killing truth when you inflate it beyond
its own natural proportions. Truth needs no extraneous aids to commend
it; or, as Cowper says,--
"No meretricious graces to beguile,
No clustering ornaments to clog the pile,
From ostentation as from weakness free,
Majestic in its own simplicity."
"The apocrypha," says the Rev. J. B. Owen, "into which you may elaborate
your observations will ultimately be sifted from the canonical, and you
will appear before society as _interpolaters_, inserting your own
spurious statements among the genuine records of facts already received
as simple, authentic truths. Have the modesty to suppose that others
know a thing or two as well as yourselves. The scraps of facts which may
lie scattered among the profusion of your hyperbolisms may be old
acquaintances of your hearers. Let them speak for themselves in their
own artless, ingenuous way, and take their own chance of success to
whatever branch of the lovely family of truth they may belong.
"Hyperbole is a fault of no trivial importance in conversation. Carried,
as it generally is, to such an extent, it is nothing more nor less than
equivalent to lying. It frequently places the Hyperbolist in a position
of distrustful scrutiny and strong doubt, on the part of those with whom
he converses. His authentication of a rumour reacts as its
contradiction. He himself robs it of a large amount of evidence, by
welcoming the proof of anybody else as better than his own. He
anticipates the discount which will be made off his commodity, and so
adds exorbitancy to his statements, which will leave a balance in hand
after all. But people will not be deceived again and again. His credit
becomes damaged. His moral bill returns dishonoured. His extravagance of
diction, like extravagance in expenditure, involves him in difficulties,
and thus the immediate fate of mendacity symbolizes that awful
retribution which will finally exclude all liars from the society of the
good and true."
"Old Humphrey," in speaking of a painter who over-coloured his pictures,
was wont to express the defect by saying, "Too much red in the brush."
It would be well for the Hyperbolist to have some friend at his elbow,
when he over-colours things, to say, "Too much red in the brush."