in Rhetoric, a figure, whereby the truth and reality of things are excessively either enlarged or diminished. See ORATORY, No. 58.

An object uncommon with respect to size, either very great of its kind or very little, strikes us with surprise; and this emotion 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; and hence the hyperbole, which expresses this momentary conviction. 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 cannot have escaped observation that a writer is generally more successful in magnifying by a hyperbole than in diminishing. The reason is, that a minute object contracts the mind, and fetters its powers of imagination; but that the mind, dilated and inflamed with a grand object, moulds objects for its gratification with great facility. Longinus, with respect to a diminishing hyperbole, cites the following ludicrous thought from a comic poet: "He was owner of a bit of ground not larger than a Lacedaemonian letter." But, for the reason now given, the hyperbole has by far the greater force in magnifying objects; of which take the following example:

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. Gen. xiii. 15, 16.

Quintilian 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 object of itself exceeds the common measure." From these premises, one would not expect the following inference, the only reason he can find for justifying this figure of speech, Conceditur enim amplius dicere, quid dici quantum est, non potest: meliusque ultra quam ei trai stat oratio." (We are indulged to say more than enough, because we cannot say enough; and it is better to be above than under). In the name of wonder, why this slight and childish reasoning, when immediately before he had observed, that the hyperbole is founded on human nature? We 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, let us proceed to the 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; for in such a case, it is altogether unnatural, being destitute of surprise, its only foundation. 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 ear'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 ii. sc. i.

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 death in this revolving land.

Richard II. act iii. sc. 6.

Draw them to Tyber's bank, and weep your tears Into the channel, till the lowest stream Do kiss the most exalted shore of all.

Julius Caesar, act i. sc. 1.

Thirdly, 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 warned and prepared. For this reason, an hyperbole in the beginning of a work can never be in its place. Example:

Jam paucia aratro jugera regio: Moles relinquunt. Horat. Carm. lib. ii. 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 (chap. iii.), with great propriety of thought, enters a caveat against an hyperbole of this kind: he compares it to a bow-string, which relaxes by overstraining, and produceth an effect directly opposite to what is intended. To ascertain any precise boundary, would be difficult, if not impracticable. We shall therefore only give a specimen of what may be reckoned overstrained hyperboles. 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 i. sc. 4.

Speaking of Henry V.

England ne'er had a King until this 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 i. 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, in a long and florid description, 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 serrain et l'Olimp vermeil, Et l'amoureux Zephyr affranchi du sommel, Resuscitait les fleurs d'une haleine seconde.

L'Aurore deploieit l'or de sa tresse blonde, Et semloit de rubis le chemin du soleil; Enfin ce Dieu venoit au plus grand appareil Qu'il soit jamais venu pour eclaire le monde:

Quand la jeune Phillis au visage riant, Sortant de son palais plus clair que l'orient, Fit voir une lumiere et plus vive et plus belle.

Sacre Flambeau du jour, n'en souz point jaloux, Vous parutes alors aussi peu devant elle, Que les feux de la nuit avoient fait devant vous.

Malleville.

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.