charting ameri environmentali early geography,academics.wellesley.edu/environmentalstudies... ·...
TRANSCRIPT
History~_~ UOpportunity
Charting AmeriEnvironmentaliEarly (Intellectual)
Geography,1890-1920
by James Morton Turner
he oft-Iold tale of American environmentalism suggests that since the 1890s.. environmentalism
has been neally divided into two opposing carnps---the resouree consen'8tionists \'er.;us the
Nature preservationists. 0 event seems 10 capture Ihis bifurcation more starkl"than the early
Iwenlielh-<:enlury battle over the Siena Nevada'S Helch Helchy valley. In the aftermath of San
Francisco'S devastating 1906 earthquake and ftre, the city's civic elite cast this valley, in the
northwest comer of Yosemite National Park, as the only reservoir sile thaI assured the growing
melrOpolis's future waler supply. When the city appealed to Theodore Roose\'e1t"s aclministmtion
for rights to the valley, Helch Hetchy embroiled the nation in debate over the value of nalionsl
parks, the management of the nations resources. and the meaning of progresS.l
18 WILD EARTH SUMMER 2000
From 1908 to L913, consenoationists and preservationists
made national headlines arguing over Betch Hetchy's future.
Gifford Pinchol. Chief of the Forest Service and close advisor to
Rooseveh. emerged as the conservationisls' most powerful
voice. Although conservationists regrelled marring Betch
Hetchy, they deemc(l it a reasonable cost for securing a reliable
water supply for San Frdncisco. 'nlis reasoning followed direct
ly from conservationists' scientific approach to mtltlaging the
nations rivers, forests. and gra7.ing lands. COllsen'ationists finn·
ly believed only the disinterested calculus of the engineer could
provide long·tenn management for the nation's resources.
Preservationists opposed the conservationists' hard-nosed
reasoning, instClJ.d arguing that monumental scenery alone justified
pennanent protection of Americas most scenic treasures. John
Muir best captureclthese sentiments in his early·twentieth-centu·
I)' essays. He described Helch Hetchy's st;ellery, evoked romantic
conceptions of the American West, and questioned what, if not the
national parks, would be held sacred by the growing nation.
'Sunrise, Yosemite Valley/ ca. 1863. by Albert Bicr!;:.ldt SUMMER 2000 WILD E.... RTH 19
By the time water began backing up Hetch Hetchys gran
ite walls. as the story usually unfolds, the fundamental divisions
in American environmentalism had been wrought. When
Samuel P. Ha}ll included Hetch Hetchy in his classic texl.
Cofl.U!:roatioo ond the Gospel of EJfJC~ncy 0959), no doubt he
marshaled these tenus weU a""are of the 1950s battle pilling
David Brower, the Sierra Club. and the nation's environmental
ists against !.he Anny Corps of Engineers, who proposed
damming Echo Park in Dinosaur National Monument. In the
19105, 1950s, or during the Trans-Alaskan Pipeline conlrO\'er
sy in the 1970s. it appeared as Aida Leopold suggested early 011:
this "was the old conflict between preservation and use... .''2
Throughout the twentieth century, historians and environmen
talists have relied upon this dualism. canonized during Hetch
Hetchy. as if it provided the fundamental intellectual scaffold
ing of American environmentalism.
Survey American environmentalism now and the weak
nesses of this scaffolding become apparent. In today's environ
mental politics, only careful explication can a~'oid muddling the
meanings of conservation and preservation, Pemaps the reason
for the confusion is rnat these tennll wen: /10 more clearly
defined during American environmentalisms founding years
than they are today. In 1895. John Muir wrote that "forest man
agement must be put on a rational. pennanent scientific basis.
as in every other civilized country.' A few months before.
Theodore Roosevelt emphasized that "the question of forest
preservatjon is one of utmost moment to the American people.....
Preservationist or conservationist? These quotes seemingly
reverse the traditional allegiances of these two prominent
Americans. More important, these statements emphasize how
contested these organizing principles of American environmen
talism have always been.
Reconsidering the origins of American environmentalism
casts new light on this long-standing dualism. In 1890. the
nation's public domain remained largely uncharted: little more
than the boundaries of states. territories. and Indian reserva
tions marked the West's geography. By 19"20, national forests.
national parb. and national monuments lay like puule pieces
across maps of the American West. In those rnirty yeaIS. the
geographic and inleUectual contours of American environmen
talism emerged together. Tracing the start of the parks, the lirst
forest reserves. and the beginnings of the Antiquities Act iUu·
minates man)' issues underpinning our natioo's environmental
politics. In reducing this period----or any period of American
environmental history---to conservation versus preservation.
we risk losing the plurality of ideas important to our environ·
mental heritage.
20 WILD EARTH SUMMER 2000
If a debate over conservation and preservation did not
define early American environmentalism, what did? A constel
lation of concerns, discussed throughout the nineteenth century,
coalesced towards the century's end. Photographs and paintings
of the West increasingly excited an appreciation for the extent
and magnitude of the nation's scenery. Scientists warned that
rapacious loggers seemed well on their way to denuding moun
tainsides from coast to coast, threatening the fulure of !.he
nation's forests, rivers., and soils. Ecological disasters that
humans inflicted on passenger pigeons. the bison. and Pacific
fur seals further emphasized Nature's fragility. And as the
nation's cities grew, so too did its industries. From railroads 10
steel companies, all seemed ready to harness the country's nat·
ural resources--economic and sccnie-and exploit them for
private gain. In 1893, Frederick Jackson Turner, observing the
many changes of the nineteenth century. made his now famous
speech that lamented the closing of the American frontier.
Despite Turner's prejudices. his assertions hdped establish new
intellectual boundaries for America's earliest environmentalists.
After a century of imperial expansion. the nation's resources no
longer appeared unlimited.s
The 1890s marked a watershed in the federal go\'emment's
approach to the public domain. Immediately after the Civil War,
Congress dealt with public land by giving it away: while home
steaders laid claim to l60-acre parcels of the West. railroads
made off with trncts measured by the square mile. National
parks marked the earliest steps towards pennanent federal
stewardship. In 1864, moved by the romantic paintings of
Albert Bierstadt and photographs of Carleton Watkins,
Congress protected Yosemite Valley. A decade later. the
Washburn expedition returned from Yellowstone with a remark
able account of the region's scenic grandeur and thennal fea
tures. Unsure of the extent of the wonders, Congress set aside a
vast stretch of northwest Wyoming. Park status, however, con
ferred only tenuous protection on Yellowstone and Yosemite.
Not all park advocates saw conflict between limited resource
development and park protection, ClllZing. poaching. and log
gi ng llOOll encroached on the parks' borders. In 1890, confusion
o~'er the parks' purpose only deepened when Congress set aside
additionallal1d around Yosemite.6
Since 1875, the American Forestry Association had ad\'.,
cated federal responsibility for the nation's forests. But as the
nineteenth-<:entuf)'timber industry boomed. Congress made few
moves to interfere, Earl)' forestry laws. such as the TImber
Culture Act 0875) and TImber and Stone Act (1878), only made
the nation's forests more accessible to homesteaders (and the
timber companies who usurped their claims). In the I.880s. the
Forestry Association urged Congress to sun'ey the nation's
forests and set aside reserves for future needs. In 11390,
Congress took hesitant steps in this direction. Responding to II
choms of ClIlifomilll1s. which included both John Muir and
water-hungry ogricuhumlists. Congress set aside an additional
million acres of Califomia's High Sierra. Confusion over whether
the lar1(1 was II nlltiollul park 01' a protected watershed mounted:
Congress mandated the "preservation from injury of all timber.
mineral deposits, natum! curiosities or wonders within said
park. and their retention in their natural condition:' But instead
of specifically declaring it a park. as it had Yosemite and
Yellowstone, Congress designated these High Sierra lands a
"forest reserve. "7
Thus. by 1890. both federal parks and reserves existed
but as rather indistinct entities. The ensuing decade of political
wnlngling would clarify their purpose and the many issues
important to the nascent American em'ironmental mCl\'ement.
The following )·ear. Congress passed the Forest Reserve Act.
granting the President new power over the public domain: the
President "may. from time to time. set apart and resen·e...pub
lic land bearing forests.' Historians speculate that Congress
engraving. 1870, by Felix Oal!qo
hardly realized the implications of the Forest Reserve Act-it
passecl til rough Congress as II onc-paral$fapl, IiJJ.,,,JUUJ Iu Ii
gencral land law. President Hamson. however. quickly made
its flUlpose clear: within II year he set aside 15 forest rest:rves
encompassing 13 million acres of lond.9 The pithy act. howev
er, made no provisions for managing the new reserves,
According to the Depmtment of the Interior. which oversaw the
reserves. a strict intc'l)retation suggested. "no one has a right
to enter a forest reserve. to cui a single tree from its forests, or
to examine its rockg in search of valuable minemls."lo For a
time. forest reserves appeared even more restricti\'e thall the
nation's parks: trespass. alone, was illegal. Historians Samuel
Hays and Rocicrick Nash have suggested preservaliOllists ral
lied around these reserves for precisel)' these ambiguous. )'et
restrictive. covenants.11
Provisions for administering the reserves, however, only
needed to catch up with reserye designation. The ForeslJ)'
Association. John Muir. and the newly founded Sierra Club allurged Congress to p8S!I acIditionallegislation. Without such pro
visions. forest n:se....·es remained a hoUow declaration. neither
providing runds ror protection nor for use. By 1895. this lack of
SL"'M{I lOoO "1l0 { ... IIH :!I
administration stalled the early forest reserve system. After set
ting aside five million acres in 1893 and 1894, President
Cleveland ceased designating reserves, delaying further action
until Congress passed new forestry legislation. Two imme<liate
proposals, the McRae and Paddock forestry bills, failed to pass.
Much of the blame went to western representatives, beholden to
timber interests and resistant to federal government. who
opposed all federal control. 12 Muir cast an accusatory finger:
''the outcries we hear against forest reservations come mostly
from thieves who are wealthy and steal timber by wholesale."13
In 1895, in lieu of legislation, Congress funded a National
Forestry Commission with the one-time task of surveying the
western forests and parks. Century Magazine praised the com
mission, "whose business it shall be to sludy the whole question
of forest preservation and report fully upon it to Congress."l'l
Composed of five well-known naturalists, including Gifford
Pinchot. the commission ranged widely across the West for three
months, encompassing Montana, Washington, California, and
even Arizona in its survey. Upon returning, without regard for
western protests, the commission called for additional reserves,
a comprehensive forestry policy, and two new parks. Cleveland
obliged the first request; in 1896. he declared 13 new reserves
totaling 21 million acres. 15
Cleveland's reserves. on top of the comrnission'iS report,
sparked a rear-long debate over forestry policy in Washington.
Congress considered options flinging from eliminating the
reserves entirely to placing them un(ler the protective jurisdic
tion of the military. As Cleveland left olTice, and President
McKinley's administration began, Congress compromised after a
biller debate. It suspended the reserves for one year. and then
reestablished them with the provision they be managed under
the recently passed 1897 Organic Act. TIle Organic Act. with
the aim of "preserving" the forests. authorized managed logging,
mining, and graldng in the forest reserves-the seeds of tooay's
multiple-use management plans. 16 Initially, John Muir emerged
as the reserves' most eloquent spokesman. explaining they "will
yield plenty of timber, a perennial harvest for every right use."
This use, he suggested, would not diminish the forests "any
more than the sun is diminished hy shining."l;
The National Forestry Commission did not limit its recom
mendations to forest reserves alone. 11le two new parks it called
for would protect the Grand Canyon and Washington's Ml.
Rainier. Muir wrote of the latter, "if in the making of the West,
Nature had what we call parks in mind,-places for rest, inspi
ration, and prayers,-this Rainier region must surel)' be one of
them."lll Although Congress did not set aside these parks imme
diately, earlier in the 1890s it dispatched the US Ann}' to
22 WILD fA~TH SUMME~ 2000
In reducing thisperiod-or any
period of American
environmental history
to conservation versus
preservation, we risk
losing the plurality of
ideas important to our
en vironmental heri tage.
Yosemite and Yellowstone. There, anny patrols kept herders and
poachers at bay. making the parks the nation's best-protected
lands. By the century's end, Congressional legislation and Muir's
writings helped delineate the legislative import of the West's
new geographic boundaries. Park status provided strict protec·
tion against resource use, while forest reserves protected water
sheds and ensured future timber supplies. Within these broad
guidelines, however, much room remained for future debate over
administering these puhlic lan(ls.
NGianl'S Gap,· ca. 1870. by Thomas Moran
Om TilE 1897 ORGANIC ACT ~lARK THE PRESEHVATIOro.1STS·
first defeat? Historians Samuel Hays and Roderick ash think
SO.19 They sift through the confu:.ion O\'er the administration ofparks and forests and the linguistic muddle of conservation and
preservation. and draw strict lines between Muir. Pinchot. and
their followers. A more open reading of Ihe 1890s finds these
categories more contested than these historians admit.
'nll'Oughout the 1890s, forest reserve advocates called for the
"presen'alion" of the forests. BUI few called for preserving the
forests from use-not even John Muir went that far. Rather, in
speeches, newspapers. and magazines. early environmentalists
called for "preserving" the forests from fire, grazing, and most
troubling. the unrestrained logging that had already felled
forests across ew England and the Midwest.
Early conservationist sentimenLs hardly stood apart £mm
this broad-minded preservation rhetoric. If "conservation"
entered the debate, it usually referred specifically to managing
wlltersheds. TIlOse dedicatt:d to preservation for strictly spiritu
al or aesthetic reasons pursued a limited agenda in the nine
leellth cenlul)': it illcluded protection for California's redwoods,
Mount Rainier, the Grund Canyon. migratory birds. and the
American bison. among other issues.2lI Liltle evidence exists
thai in the 18905 Ihese "preservationists- considered them
seh'es tllC foes of any emerging group of "conservationists."
Ambiguities in the 18905 language have made it easy for histo
riuns. and en\'ironmentalisLs alike. to 0\'eremphasi7-c the early
divisions underlying the nation's environmental movement.!l
Theodore Roosevelt embodied precisely these ambiguities
in eurly environmentalism. Between 1901 and 1909, his admin
islmtion tripled lhe size of the forest reserves. established five
new national (h1rks, initiated early fedeml redamation projects,
and set aside the first nationlll monuments. During his adminis·
tration. legislating the public domain emerged as a high point in
a broad refoml agenda. Historians look to these e\'ents to mark
the growing historical divide between conservationists and
preservationist.s: Gifford PinclW)l and John Muir dominated
environmental politics. the Department of Agriculture and the
Department of Interior- staked out their claims on the public
domain. and Ihis era culminated in the Hetch Hetchy conlTO
\'ersy. Conservation alKI preservation cannot be ignored in these
years--yet the debate cannot be narrowed to these poles alone.
During Roosevelt's tenure, conservation emerged from
pl'esen'ation's rhetOlical slllldow. Drawing on seemingly democ
rutic and scientific principles, conservation became finnly
entrenched in the expanding federal govemmenl.:!2 The Bureau
of Reclamation (1902) aimed to reengineer the hydrology of the
West. and the Faresl Service (1905) set its sights on bringing all
the nation's forests under sustained-yield management. Pinchot.
the Department of Agriculture's head of foreslr)', emerged as thechampion of conservation within the Roosevelt administration.
"The forest," Pinchot explained. "is a manufacturing plant for
the production of wood. ''%3 And, as would become a refrain for
the conservationists, it had to be managed for the "greatest goodof the greatest number in the long run.''24 One approving cili7,cn
wrote to the New York TImes, "Let us eliminate sentimentalism,
Let us not pennit the hard-headed businessman to call us
Utopians, but meet the utilitarian and tax: payer on his own
ground.""ConservationisLs believed the nation's public domain.
including forests. grazing lands, and resen'oirs, should be man
aged with the impartial judgment of professional go\'emment
officials. Pinchot hoped a growing cadre of coUege-educated
engineers and foresters would bring such scientific rigor to
managing the nation's resources. With Roosevelt's support,
Pinchot expanded the Forest Sen'ice and brought the forest
reserves under its purview. In 1905, Congress tmnsferred the
reserves from the Department of the Interior to the Department
of Agriculture, and rechristened them national forests. Pinchot,
the first Chief of the Forest Service, belie\'ed it would be only a
matler of time before the national parks, too, came under the
IlI.tional striclures of Forest Service management.~
Roose\'elt's land initiatives received broad support from theurban denizens who helped elect him to office. Despite Pinchot·s
disdain for "purely sentimenlal considerations" regarding
alure, the conservationists' utilitarian approach 10 the nation's
public domain was eminently more acceptable to these urban
ites than the wanton exploitation of the previous centuryP Even
the Sierra Club urged iLs youngest members to entertain a career
in Ihe Forest Service: "a man cannot serve his country better
than by faithful work in this field."2lI During the same years, his
torians have noted that Nature, increasingly, represented theantithesis of the naLion's early-twentieth-century metropolilieS-
it promised an escape from poUuLion, immigranLs, and disease.
As Muir romantically crowed, 4nousands of tired, nerve-shak
en. over-eivilized people are beginning to find out that going to
the mountains is going home; that wildness is a necessity.... "29
For many middle-class Americans, the Boy ScoULs, mountain
resorts, or the writings ofJohn Burroughs and Jack London rede
fined their perceptions of Nature, spurring what historian Peter
Schmitt has labeled the first "Back to Nature" movemenl.30
Preservationists also made legislative and territorial
advances during Roosevelt's administration. The same Congress
that established the Forest Service armed preservationists with
an important new legislative tool: "An Act for the Preservation
SUMMER 2000 WilD EARTH 23
of American Antiquities (1905)." The Antiquities Act invesled
in the Presidenl the power to "pennanently preserve objects of
antiquity and historic interest for the inslruction and enjoyment
of the people."31 Importantly, objects of scientific interest such
as archaeological sites or geologic wonders. also fell under theact's scope. Rooseveh first set aside small monuments. such as
Devils Tower (1906) and Muir Woods (1908). Then, stretching
the act's mandate, he set aside 900.000 acres as the Grand
Canyon National Monument (1908).32 Muir and other preserva·
tionists applauded these first national monuments and the
newest national parks including Crater Lake. Wind Ca\'e, and
Mesa Verde.
Despile these gains. preservationists feared a growing con·
servation movement that measured success in terms of cords.
cubic feet, and tons, In 1908. the nation's governors and con-
Ifever in American environmental history conservation and
preservation appeared to dominate the discourse, it is in lhese
years leading up to the decision 10 nood Hetch Hetchy. But as
quickly as this dualism became apparenl---8!l Hetch Hetchy
captured the nation's 8uention--the dualism also began to fall
apart, and with it the scaffolding upon which so much environ
mental thought rests. Revisionist historians have recasl Hetch
Hetchy from perspectives that unsettle the primacy of the
preservation versus conservation dualism. Muir biographer
Stephen Fox. in 1M American ~roaJion MOtrenuml (lOOt),
de!lCribed Hetch Hetchy as a battle contested by amateur! and
federal employees with divergent ideas about how to manage the
public domain. Fox explained that Hetch Hetchy was "in short,
another collision of professionals and amateurs,":JS More recent
ly. Gray Brechin's Imperial San Fnuu::isco (1999) takes up an
Framing Hetch Hetchy or Echo Park in terms that pit the
preservationists against the conservationists has long empowered the
American environmental narrative ... but it is important to recognize
that the critical junctures in American environmentalism-for beller
or worse-have emerged from a middle ground that is neither
"conservationist" nor "preservationist."
servation leaders gathered in Washington to discuss a national
conservation agenda. John Muir, omilled from the guest list, senl
a leller representing the Sierra Club. In il. he urged the confer
ence not to forget scenic resources, "whose influence upon lhe
life of the nation. physically. morally, mentally, is inestimable,
and whose preservation is the greatest sen'ice that one genera
tion can render 10 another,""J3 Conference allendees, however,
seemed more interested in the tangible resources of timber.
water, and minerals. Dismayed. J. Horuce McFariand-presi
dent of the American Civic Association and a strong advocate of
preservation---published an article titled, "Shall we halie ugly
conservation?" McFarland's article reflected preservationists'
growing concern for the future of the natiooal parks. Speculation
over logging, dams, and grazing swirled around lhe dozen exist
ing parks. Even in the case of Yosemite, the New York TImes edi
torialized in 1909, "the talk about leaving nature unspoiled ... is
nonsensical.":\4 For preservationists, only a park agency. com
parable to the Forest Service, could safeguard the future of the
national parks.
24 WilD EARTH SUMMER 2000
underlying current in Hay's and Nash's earliest accounts of
Hetch Hctchy-the importance of anti-monopoly sentiment and
San Francisco's urban politics to lhe debate, For the city's urban
elite. harnessing Hetch Helchy emerged as a critical step in
freeing the city from the Spring VaUey Water Company, ensuring
San Francisco's continued economic expansion. and facilitating
its dominance over the Pacific Rim. Ultimately, neither the
arguments of conservationists nor preservationists delennined
Hctch Hetchy's fate.M
To the extent that Fox and Brechin meant to imply thai
other factors best explain why Hetch Hetchy became a resen'oir,
they are surely right. And in moving beyond the historiographi
cal duality Hays and Nash helped erect. Fox and Brechin not
only shed new light on the Helch Hetchy debate. they also facil
itate our understanding of later American environmenlal histo
ry. In 1916. partly in reaction to Hetch Hetchy. Congress further
prolected the national parks under the newly established
National Park Service. Even then, conservation metoric based
on efficient administration and tourist revenues undennined any
assertion of a preservationist victory.:J7 In the 19205. Arthur
Carhart and Aldo Leopold helped gi.e the American wilderness
movement its first institutional home--in Gifford Pinchot"s
Forest Service. And a decade later. Benton MacKaye and Lewis
Mumford joined with others in founding the Regional Planning
Association of America that helped promote the Appalachian
Tmil and influenced the Tennessee Valley Authority. None of
these events confonns to a rigid dualism marked by conserva·
tionist and preservationist ethics. And this list oould go on.
Why then do many historians and environmentalists con·
tinue to depend upon this dualism? Too.ay, as often as not,
newspapers ignore history altogether and use conservation andpreservation interchangeably. Or, worse yet, these tenns are
caricatured, as they were by Peter Huber, author of Hard Grrrn
(1999), who tried to warn conservationists that, ..the preserva
tionist vision is back on top. The quasi-pagan nature worship of
the late 19th century has been reworked as the hcms-scientific
demonology of the late 2Oth."38 As suggegted by the debate
revolving around these categories and disagreement among
environmentalists today, this dualism obscures as much as it
reveals about American environmentalism. The persistence of
this dualism, however, rests in its romantic appeal. Framing
Helch Hetchy or Echo Park in tenns that pit the preservation
ists against the conservationists hu long empowered the
American environmental narrative.39 Entirely abandoning theromanticism is hardly necessary, but it is important to recognize
that the critical junctures in American environmentalism-for
better or worse--have emerged from a middle ground that is
neither "conservationist" nor "preservationist:' «
JWlles l\lorton Tumer is it grOOooLe sludenL 5tlulying American
history and erwironmenud wues at Princeton Uni»ersily.
NOTESI. III Ibio CMOIJo I.- 11>0.....- -enYinInmenbol _.....m-1OIId -euri.-al......~A1~ thio io acl.ittedl, oriraL ill _ ...., in_ipliac lho -.... .I.......u-. -' prau""_. I t.-:Ier _ an: hdp(ul ...., tbe7~-r~ ............ 10 lbe L..J-""_
2. AlcIo Leopold. 1110:~ ..... iIo ........ ill ........ -.-...... polloy: Jowaol t{T..-y. """0921), 1"6-
3. Jon.. Muir. '"PI-..dU,.. .I the~ tllho Sinn Cub,- ill Sitmo aaIt N<Mo (SonF......-...o.I895). 284.
4. n-IrR I\oooe>dl. -A p&.n IO"~ 11>0. ron-: baI~iGnby ...1iuIry ......ltGl- Cmt"')"49. no. 4(1895), 630.
S. On 'lbrnef'a lipUf..,....,.,. _ hi, oripnoJ .....,- on<! lhe """"""1*''';111 «IIlIII>mW)' inFrederi<:k J""k..I Tu........ RHNdi"ll Fmkrid Jadoon TItmO: 1MS'piji£..ncu!lIt.FrotUitr ;".4",""""" lIi.1ttwy, "nJ OrMr E:u<t~ (New Yorl<, 1Ient)' 11011. 1994).
6. Fora~.e inItod"'::IOoolLO tho: h",ooyollho: lWion&I patb. _ AIfted Runle.NI>IioNJ Poria: 1M .4"",;"""~ (Lincoln: UniYft'lil, .I Nd>ruka. 1997),
-,-'-7. -An '""'- 10 "'" aput ....wn _ tl UncI in 1I>o..5caIe .ICalifornia ~.
tiGoot.. ...",........ O<:tolw I. 1890 (26 SIll. 6501~~ in HiUorr A. T cd.t- &/t>lilt« It> "'" N""'-I Port .s...oo.. the /1'.--1 Pan:.. <IA4,11_(W~GPO. 1933), 49..
8.:z6 t:S SuI.. lOOR(lbodI3. 1891), Stdioa 24.
9. The beM inuoduttica 10 11>0. r...... s.rn..... -,.~ it HoroW K. s..-. 1M UST....s..no.:AH-,.(SeoaIe:~tlW,. ~ " 197tij.doopw2.
10. ClriPaIIY quoted ill 1lte r_ c ..... CftIII Public: s.m....-C--r S4. ,.,4 (1897), 634-
II. s.-d P....,.., c.....m.,;.." ond lit. e-,dt{~(F0I!I"\iIIa&'. MA: 101..,.",~ 1959), 190-191. Roderick N-". 'lI'".u..-aINIIM~MiJWl.3nled.(New Havm: Yale Uni......ily~ 1\lll2), 133-137.
12. 51""". 1M US FO'ffi ~.".4 HiJtoty. ~hapt ... 2.
13. Joh" Muir. "The A""";"an foreol ..- Allalllk MOIII!lJyllO. Aug(llI97). Iss..
14. "'Tho......s tla nalion1l f_ cornmiMian.~ CttIlIlrJ49, na. 4 (1895). 634.
IS. 51...... 1M US F_ """""."A Hi.It{Jt): 32-33.
16. Paul W. Hin.A ~ofOptimilm:M~t{lJwMui-J TombAActIIWU IJ'", T.... {LinooIaI: U !)'dN~ "'-. 1994), )C)..31.
11. Jon..)luir. 1100 "-rioaa """-tt.~ 147. 156-
18. ,Iahn Muir. 1100 wild F*b ond ........~ tlll>o. .......~AdoMe M<WltJ", J..(IIMI), 26.
19. ...,.., e--.... Mill at. c..,>J. t{fl!ici-q. 1'»-191. N.Io. 1"""","- _ at.~MiaJ..I38.
2O.F....~_tlll>o.pIichldll>o.~...ondilo~1ONIl, Amm:M~ _ Aadno:w C.~ o-.a....t{1Iw iii.-:No~.HiIIay(Ne- \m.:~ Ilni..-iIJ Pt-.~
21.n- ambi&uili.. an:~ in IIid>ard WeotSeU-.~N~ in 1MNasiunal P"ria: A HiIl"'7 (New Ha.en: Yale Uni","", Pre... 1997}. 41-44 on<!Runte. NaJi«ttJ1 Path, M- Jo/uI P. Wil.." Jr. offen I".;g,lo into lheoe ambiplli..ladoy In "Cami", LOT~mIf.~ Smillwni"" 29. 110. 9 (1996). 28-30.
22. The .luoic: ."""'lnl .I tho: _ ..Ilion """,ernenl ia Hay.. eo.-."""", lJII4 lAoe-,dofE:Jfidm<'y.
23. CiIJard Pine"'"~r_ deoIJUClian.- in ,s,,;,haIi1n Ann...J Ropon~on. IX::CPO.I90I),4C»..
24. Letletlt> 0Iid".I the F_~ f_s.....-yd~1_~ Feb.I. 1905 in 1M~ u...~ ... T_.'WtWAtfioiDa. A,;rieulK.dJoak N... 453~ DC: CPO. 1974), 117.
25.. ....... L Hidok. -u&r 10 11>0. edilo>r. A ""'"' b I!>e """-tt.- tv- W T.-. At- 61902.. 14.
216.. Hays.. e-.-;"" <IA4 ,.. Ctt<pJ t{~ 1\16..
27. PIndool."F_~- 401.
2lJ,. W..lli.... R. DudIq. -r-.,. nola..W so".",~~ 6. ..... S{19OII): 334.
29.1oha M",~ "Jbo,~ r.-.~ IS.
30. Peler J. Sthmill. 8Mk It>N.mur:7M~ M,-:A ill Urt-.:!m<riaa (New \on.:Oxford Unl I!)' ....... 1969). On the t:uIt .Iwaa..n-. .......... N-". IJjltkmtu"nd u,.A " Mint/, ~lu.l"er9.
31.1.J:uuI,~ and Opi"iaru ilpp/kabk 10 lit. N"'i4n«1 FO<UlI (\\il&h.1"il0ll. IX::CPO. 1916).24.
32. Hal Ro!hman·. otud, .I the u. AJamo. and ,"" Pljarilo PI.leau~ i"'fl'l'l&llli-.ia/>t info the '*.I~ pIaU\'1IIiGa in lhe~ tl the ~tieoAd. On 1&ru aM Ridp.. 1M LaoA"-Arta.so- J8JJO(ljncoIa: UIIi.-i!)'dNeInob "'-. 1992). chapen 4-6.
33."Iahn )luir e at.. -Loner 10 tIoe PmOo:!aIl .I~ UIIIIiIecI s...,. -' 11>0.c-.n dl!les-..~;"~w~ in so.... a.6 &JJttia 6. .... S (19011):
318-319-
34..~..-....-.l~ tv- Kri T-. Ott 15. 1909.8.
~~ F....)oJuoM,.;,&NiHu~1M.:t-nc-~M_(w-m-: UIIi-u,dlV......... "'-.1981), U4.
36. c..,. B-ftift.1..."m.J SailF"~ un- P-. &NoJTR#Ut (llode!erUni.f'I'SiIy tl CaIifamia ""-. 1999), 106-111.
37. Prot:MJinp <(1M NaJiMW Part e...t- cw-hiJl&lon. DC, CPO. 1911),
.38. Petet Huber. -s..i"lllhe .."1"""",,,,1 from tho: en',;ronmonwiala,~ ConvnoIll"ryl05.April (1998), 25--30.
39. On lhei~ of natnoli.., and lhe powff tl1mlllnlid.... ;n A"",ric"" .",vimn
......taI ~1. _1V~liam Cronan. 4bo TlUlbie with w-.1demoa: ..... Cer1in& Baok10 lho ll''''''S NIl~: in U__Cruuad:~ Ute H_ ~in fl'Olwr.cd. William Uonaa (New YcR: Nanan. 1995), 69-90 and WiUi.m '""-- -A f'tao..elor 5larieo:~ H'-Y. -' NatrlIl.i~~ Jaw,..J t{~ H'-1- (1992):1347_1376. f .....~mtlquede-.. ihouIIaa.. wiIdane-. ..... DoridW. Orr. 4100 _.-.pao wilder-~ ..' Il'""IlJ e-l9.51- (1999): 7......
SUMMf' 20CO WILO f .... TH 25