Berkeley is so near that we did not realize that we were not in Oakland. Days can be thoroughly enjoyed spent here at the University of California, the second largest educational institution in the world, commanding a view of the Golden Gate, the bay, and San Francisco. Early in the eighteenth century, Bishop George Berkeley of Cloyne, Ireland, came to America to establish colleges. In recognition of his devotion to the cause of learning, this city was named for him. His prophetic words, “Westward the course of empire takes its way,” have been justified and realized in California. On the university campus, the Sather Campanile towers above all the other buildings at a height of over three hundred feet. The most distinctive feature of the university is the Greek Theater, in a hollow of the hills, planned on lines similar to those of the ancient theater at Epidaurus. The equable climate makes it possible to hold outdoor performances at any season of the year. We were told that ten thousand people could be seated comfortably. “Every artist who visits the Coast aspires to appear in our Greek Theater,” said our informant, and added with pride, “Sarah Bernhardt, Nordica, Tetrazzini, Gadski, Schumann-Heink, and Josef Hofmann have all been here--yes, and ‘Big Bill’ Taft too.” Since then, President Wilson addressed a capacity audience here. As we knew that we should visit both of these cities many times, we drove to the wharf and boarded a ferry-boat holding seventy-five cars, which would land us at our destination, San Francisco. While crossing the harbor, which is seventy-five miles long and in places fifteen miles wide, almost surrounded by high peaks, let me try to picture to you the scene that greeted our eager eyes. It was about seven o’clock in the evening. The rays of the setting sun made a glow over the water and the distant city, touching the tops of the hills with an artist hand. To the northwest, crowning the scene like a giant sentinel, was Mt. Tamalpais. What Fujiyama is to the people of Japan, Mt. Tamalpais is, in a less oriental way, to the Californians. Whether you see it at sunrise or sunset, or standing out in bold relief against the noonday sky, or with the moon silvering its summit, or wrapped in a mist of clouds, it is a glorious sight, a never-to-be-forgotten picture. Below this summit is the dense wilderness of the Muir Woods, named in honor of John Muir, the celebrated California naturalist, with 295 acres of towering redwood trees, the famous _Sequoia sempervirens_, many attaining two hundred feet in height.