town. His career was brief. Whether he had in him the elements of success cannot now be known, but it was manifest that he did not get beyond words in his speeches.
His speeches were lacking in information and his powers of argument were weak and limited. His most noted speech was in support of a resolution in favor of refunding to General Jackson the fine of one thousand dollars that had been imposed upon him by a New Orleans judge. Richardson’s opening sentence was this: “I rise, Mr. Speaker, and throw myself into the crackling embers of this debate,”—from which, in the judgment of the House, he never emerged.
The Lyceum, as it existed from 1840 to 1850, has disappeared, and to the loss of young men who may be called to take part in public affairs. In many cases, however, it led to the development of a style of speaking that was not adapted to political discussions or to the profession of the law. Speaking and writing should be pursued at the same time, and study is an essential condition of success. In public assemblies, even in those that are composed of selected persons, there is always an opportunity for a well-trained man, who is also carefully and fully informed upon the subject under debate, to exert an influence and not infrequently he may succeed in securing the acceptance of his opinions.
But study alone will not make a good or even an acceptable speaker, unless there is added also a period of careful practice. There are many men of learning whose faculty for speaking is so limited that their awkwardness is more conspicuous than their knowledge. The Lyceum may be made a school of practice. The business should not be limited to topics that do not excite feeling. The contests of the world rest largely upon feeling, often degenerating into mere passion. Those who are to take part in such contests should learn at an early period of life to control their feelings and passions. Such benign results can be reached only by experience. Let the
