Twenty-one years ago in this house I heard a voice calling me to ascendthe platform, and there to stand and deliver. The voice was the voice ofPresident North; the language was an excellent imitation of that used byCicero and Julius Caesar. I remember the flattering invitation--it is theclassic tag that clings to the graduate long after he has forgotten thegender of the nouns that end in 'um--orator proximus', the grateful voicesaid, 'ascendat, videlicet,' and so forth. To be proclaimed an orator,and an ascending orator, in such a sonorous tongue, in the face of aworld waiting for orators, stirred one's blood like the herald's trumpetwhen the lists are thrown open. Alas! for most of us, who crowded soeagerly into the arena, it was the last appearance as orators on anystage.