_HYPERBOLE._
In this figure we have another effect of the foregoing principle. An
object uncommon with respect to size, either very great of its kind or
very little, strikes us with surprise; and this emotion, like all
others, prone to gratification, forces upon the mind a momentary
conviction that the object is greater or less than it is in reality. The
same effect, precisely, attends figurative grandeur or littleness. Every
object that produceth surprise by its singularity, is always seen in a
false light while the emotion subsists: circumstances are exaggerated
beyond truth; and it is not till after the emotion subsides, that things
appear as they are. A writer, taking advantage of this natural
delusion, enriches his description greatly by the hyperbole. And the
reader, even in his coolest moments, relishes this figure, being
sensible that it is the operation of nature upon a warm fancy.
It will be observed, that a writer is generally more successful in
magnifying by a hyperbole than in diminishing: a minute object contracts
the mind, and fetters its power of conception; but the mind, dilated and
inflamed with a grand object, moulds objects for its gratification with
great facility. Longinus, with respect to the diminishing power of a
hyperbole, cites the following ludicrous thought from a comic poet. “He
was owner of a bit of ground not larger than a Lacedemonian letter.[22]”
But, for the reason now given, the hyperbole has by far the greater
force in magnifying objects; of which take the following specimen.
For all the land which thou seest, to thee will I give it, and to
thy seed for ever. And I will make thy seed as the dust of the
earth: so that if a man can number the dust of the earth, then
shall thy seed also be numbered.
_Genesis xiii. 15. 16._
Illa vel intactæ segetis per summa volaret
Gramina: nec teneras cursu læsisset aristas.
_Æneid. vii. 808._
---- Atque imo barathri ter gurgite vastos
Sorbet in abruptum fluctus, rursusque sub auras
Erigit alternos, et sidera verberat undà.
_Æneid. iii. 421._
---- Horrificis juxta tonat Ætna ruinis,
Interdumque atram prorumpit ad æthera nubem,
Turbine fumantem piceo et candente favilla:
Attollitque globos flammarum, et sidera lambit.
_Æneid. iii. 571._
Speaking of Polyphemus,
---- Ipse arduus, altaque pulsat Sidera.
_Æneid. iii. 619._
---- When he speaks,
The air, a charter’d libertine, is still.
_Henry V. act 1. sc. 1._
Now shield with shield, with helmet helmet clos’d,
To armour armour, lance to lance oppos’d,
Host against host with shadowy squadrons drew,
The sounding darts in iron tempests flew,
Victors and vanquish’d join promiscuous cries,
And shrilling shouts and dying groans arise;
With streaming blood the slipp’ry fields are dy’d,
And slaughter’d heroes swell the dreadful tide.
_Iliad iv. 508._
The following may also pass, though stretched pretty far.
Econjungendo à temerario ardire
Estrema forza, e infaticabil lena
Vien che si’ impetuoso il ferro gire,
Che ne trema la terra, e’l ciel balena.
_Gierusalem, cant. 6. st. 46._
Quintilian[23] is sensible that this figure is natural. “For,” says he,
“not contented with truth, we naturally incline to augment or diminish
beyond it; and for that reason the hyperbole is familiar even among the
vulgar and illiterate.” And he adds, very justly, “That the hyperbole is
then proper, when the subject of itself exceeds the common measure.”
From these premisses, one would not expect the following conclusion, the
only reason he can find for justifying this figure of speech.
“Conceditur enim amplius dicere, quia dici quantum est, non potest:
meliusque ultra quam citra stat oratio.” (We are indulged to say more
than enough, because we cannot say enough; and it is better to be over
than under). In the name of wonder, why this slight and childish reason,
when immediately before he had made it evident, that the hyperbole is
founded on human nature? I could not resist this personal stroke of
criticism, intended not against our author, for no human creature is
exempt from error; but against the blind veneration that is paid to the
ancient classic writers, without distinguishing their blemishes from
their beauties.
Having examined the nature of this figure, and the principle on which it
is erected; I proceed, as in the first section, to some rules by which
it ought to be governed. And in the first place, it is a capital fault
to introduce an hyperbole in the description of an ordinary object or
event which creates no surprise. In such a case, the hyperbole is
altogether unnatural, being destitute of surprise, the only foundation
that can support it. Take the following instance, where the subject is
extremely familiar, _viz._ swimming to gain the shore after a shipwreck.
I saw him beat the surges under him,
And ride upon their backs; he trode the water;
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted
The surge most swoln that met him: his bold head
’Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar’d
Himself with his good arms, in lusty strokes
To th’ shore, that o’er his wave-born basis bow’d,
As stooping to relieve him.
_Tempest, act 2. sc. 1._
In the next place, it may be gathered from what is said, that an
hyperbole can never suit the tone of any dispiriting passion. Sorrow in
particular will never prompt such a figure; and for that reason the
following hyperboles must be condemned as unnatural.
_K. Rich._ Aumerle, thou weep’st, my tender-hearted cousin!
We’ll make foul weather with despised tears;
Our sighs, and they, shall lodge the summer-corn,
And make a dearth in this revolting land.
_Richard II. Act 3. Sc. 6._
Draw them to Tyber’s bank, and weep your tears
Into the channel, till the lowest stream
Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.
_Julius Cæsar, act 1. sc. 1._
Thirdly, a writer, if he wish to succeed, ought always to have the
reader in his eye. He ought in particular never to venture a bold
thought or expression, till the reader be warmed and prepared for it.
For this reason, an hyperbole in the beginning of any work can never be
in its place. Example:
Jam pauca aratro jugera regiæ
Moles relinquent.
_Horat. Carm. lib. 2. ode. 15._
In the fourth place, the nicest point of all, is to ascertain the
natural limits of an hyperbole, beyond which being overstrained it has
a bad effect. Longinus, in the above-cited chapter, with great propriety
of thought, enters a caveat against an hyperbole of this kind. He
compares it to a bowstring, which relaxes by overstraining, and
produceth an effect directly opposite to what is intended. I pretend not
to ascertain any precise boundary: the attempt would be difficult, if
not impracticable. I must therefore be satisfied with an humbler task,
which is, to give a specimen of what I reckon overstrained hyperboles;
and I shall be also extremely curt upon this subject, because examples
are to be found every where. No fault is more common among writers of
inferior rank; and instances are found even among those of the finest
taste; witness the following hyperbole, too bold even for an Hotspur.
Hotspur talking of Mortimer:
In single opposition hand to hand,
He did confound the best part of an hour
In changing hardiment with great Glendower.
Three times they breath’d, and three times did they drink,
Upon agreement, of swift Severn’s flood;
Who then affrighted with their bloody looks,
Ran fearfully among the trembling reeds,
And hid his crisp’d head in the hollow bank
Blood-stained with these valiant combatants.
_First Part Henry IV. act 1. sc. 4._
Speaking of Henry V.
England ne’er had a King until his time:
Virtue he had, deserving to command:
His brandish’d sword did blind men with its beams:
His arms spread wider than a dragon’s wings:
His sparkling eyes, replete with awful fire,
More dazzled, and drove back his enemies,
Than mid-day sun fierce bent against their faces.
What should I say? his deeds exceed all speech:
He never lifted up his hand, but conquer’d.
_First Part Henry VI. act 1. sc. 1._
Lastly, an hyperbole after it is introduced with all advantages, ought
to be comprehended within the fewest words possible. As it cannot be
relished but in the hurry and swelling of the mind, a leisurely view
dissolves the charm, and discovers the description to be extravagant at
least, and perhaps also ridiculous. This fault is palpable in a sonnet
which passeth for one of the most complete in the French language.
Phillis is made as far to outshine the sun as he outshines the stars.
Le silence regnoit sur la terre et sur l’onde,
L’air devenoit serain, _&c._
_Collection of French epigrams, vol. 1. p. 66._
There is in Chaucer a thought expressed in a single line, which sets a
young beauty in a more advantageous light, than the whole of this
much-laboured poem.
Up rose the sun, and up rose Emelie.