judge somewhat of the future, we might, if we chose, glance back at the
history of cities, and note how, when the Mediterranean was the greatest
of seas, Carthage and Venice were the greatest of cities; how, when the
Atlantic assumed sway, Ghent, Seville, and London each in turn came to
the front; or how, following the inevitable, as civilization takes
possession of the Pacific, the last, the largest in its native wealth as
well as in its potentialities the richest of all, it is not difficult to
see that the chief city, the mistress of this great ocean, must be
mistress of the world.

But this is not all. A great city on this great bay, beside this
greatest of oceans, centrally situated, through whose Golden Gate pass
the waters drained from broad fertile valleys, a harbor without an
equal, with some hundreds of miles of water front ready for a thousand
industries, where ocean vessels may moor beside factories and
warehouses, with a climate temperate, equable, healthful, and brewed for
industry; a city here, ugly or beautiful, fostered or oppressed, given
over to the sharks of speculation or safeguarded as one of the brightest
jewels of the nation, is an inexorable necessity; its destiny is
assured; and all the powers of graft and greed cannot prevail against
it. It is a military necessity, for here will be stationed the chief
defenses and defenders of the nation's western border. It is an
industrial necessity, for to this city three continents and a thousand
islands will look for service. As the Spanish war first revealed to
America her greatness, so the possible loss of San Francisco quickly
demonstrates the necessity of her existence to the nation. It is an
educational necessity, whence the dusky peoples around the Pacific may
draw from the higher civilization to the regeneration of the world. In
the University of California, standing opposite the Golden Gate, with
its able and devoted president and professors, this work is already well