It is a great mistake to suppose that exaggeration makes a person more
agreeable, or that it adds to the importance of her statements. The
value of a person's words is determined by her habitual use of them. "I
like it much," "It is well done," will mean as much in some mouths, as
"I am infinitely delighted with it," "'Tis the most exquisite thing I
ever saw," will in others. Such large abatements are necessarily made
for the statements of these romancers, that they really gain nothing in
the end, but find it difficult sometimes to gain credence for so much as
is really true; whereas, a person who is habitually sober and
discriminating in his use of language, will not only inspire confidence,
but be able to produce a fine effect by the occasional use of a
superlative.
Fidelity and exactness are indispensable in a narrative, and the habit
of exaggerating destroys the power of accurate observation and
recollection which would render the story truly interesting. If, instead
of trying to embellish her account with the fruits of her imagination, a
young lady possessed the power of seizing upon the points best worth
describing, and could give an exact account of them, she would be far
more entertaining than any exaggeration could make her; for there is no
romance like that of real life, and no imaginings of an inexperienced
girl can equal in piquancy the scenes and characters that are every day
presented to our view. Extravagant expressions are sometimes resorted to
in order to atone for deficiencies of memory and observation; but they
will never hide such defects; and an habitual use of them lowers the
tone of the mind, and leads to other deviations from the simplicity of
truth and nature.
Another way of falsifying a narrative, is by taking for granted what you
do not know, and speaking of it as if you did. This jumping at
conclusions is a fruitful source of false reports, and does great
mischief in the world. Let no one imagine that she is walking
conscientiously, who is not in the habit of discriminating nicely
between what she knows to be fact and what she only supposes to be such.
The frequent use of some favorite word, or phrase, is a common defect in
conversation, and can only be guarded against by asking your friends to
point it out to you, whenever they observe such a habit; for your own
ear, having become accustomed to it, may not detect it. Some persons
apply the epithets _glorious_ or _splendid_ to all sorts of objects
indiscriminately, from a gorgeous sunset to a good dinner.
A young lady once tried to describe a pic-nic party to me in the
following terms: "There were ten of us--four on horseback and the rest
in carriages. We set off at a _glorious_ rate, and had a _splendid_ time
in getting there; I rode the most _elegant_, perfect creature you ever
beheld, and capered along _gloriously_. When we all got there, we walked
about in the woods, and gathered the most _splendid_ flowers, and dined
under the shade of a _glorious_ old elm-tree. We had our cold provisions
spread out on the grass, and every thing was _elegant_. We had
_glorious_ appetites, too, and the ham and ale were _splendid_, and put
us all in fine spirits. Some of the gentlemen sang funny songs; but one
sang such a dreadfully sentimental one, and to such a horrid doleful
tune, it made us all miserable. So then we broke up, and had a
_splendid_ time packing away the things; such fun! I had almost killed
myself with laughing, and we broke half the things. But the ride home
was the most _splendid_ of all; we arrived at the top of the hill just
in time to see the most _glorious_ sunset I ever beheld!"
In this short account, the word "glorious" is used five times, and in
all but the last, it is grossly misapplied. The same is the case with
the word "splendid," except that it is not once used properly.
"Elegant," too, is equally inapplicable to horses and cold provisions.
Yet this style of conversing is so common, that it hardly arrests the
attention of many, who nevertheless would condemn it at once, if they
thought at all about it.