limits.  As you wander hither and thither you see on all sides tokens of prosperity.  There is an air of refinement about the place, and you find the atmosphere clear and stimulating.  There is not a very marked difference in the temperature of the climate between summer and winter.  Frosts are unknown.  It is no disparagement to San Francisco to say that Oakland for delicate persons is more desirable.  The trade winds as they blow from the Pacific ocean, and make one robust and hardy in San Francisco, when there is vitality to resist them, are tempered as they blow across the Bay some fourteen miles or more, while the fogs, so noted, as they rush in through the Golden Gate and speed onward, are greatly modified as they reach the further shore.  As it has such a splendid climate and natural advantages, and enjoys the distinction of being at the terminus of the great overland railway systems, it is constantly attracting to itself population and capital.  Ten years ago it had 48,682 inhabitants; to-day it numbers 66,960.

Its people are very hospitable and are glad to welcome the traveller from the east to their comfortable homes.  On the ferry boat I was accosted by a ruddy-faced and genial gentleman, a Mr. Young, a resident of Oakland, who was proceeding to his place of business in San Francisco.  He gave me some valuable information, and pointed out objects and places of interest.  He seemed to be well informed about the General Convention appointed to meet on the day of my arrival, in Trinity church, San Francisco.  He spoke with intelligence about its character and purpose, and with enthusiasm concerning its members whom he had met as they were crossing the Bay.  The names of Bishop Doane, of Albany, Bishop Potter, of New York, and Mr. J. Pierpont Morgan, were as household words on his lips, and there was a gleam of delight in his eye as he pictured to us the pleasures and surprises in store for us during our sojourn in the Capital of the Golden West.

“That town,” said he, “which you see to the south of Oakland, with its long mole, is Alameda.  It is a great place of resort, a kind of pleasure grove.  Alameda in the Spanish language means ‘Poplar Avenue.’  Many people go there on excursions and picnic parties from San Francisco, and other places along the Bay.  It is, as you see, a very pretty spot.  In time it will become a part of Oakland.  It has to-day a population of over sixteen thousand people.”  When I asked him if it had an Episcopal Church, he said, “Yes.  Its name is Christ Church, and there are in it four hundred communicants.  Do you know its rector?  He is the Rev. Thomas James Lacey.”  Mr. Young, who was a native of Massachusetts and just as proud of California as he was of his old home in the east, turned with considerable elation to Berkeley, the University town.  “There,” said he, “to the north of Oakland is Berkeley, with a population of thirteen thousand.  It is, as you see, situated at the foot of the San Pablo