COPY June 15th Dear Mr. Mather:- I had the pleasure of sitting next you at dinner just a year ago down here at my cousin, William C. Endicott's. I was in- terested to meet you for, having always been a great lover of nature, I was enthusiastic over your success in "saving the Redwoods", one of the few truly satisfactory things that has happened in conservation in this country. I also heard you speak at Mrs. Dimock's, and remem- ber a story you told of a beautiful tree which stood in the way of a new road to go through some Western Park, so it was felled. Immediate- ly a protest rose, the matter was brought to your attention and you said that henceforth roads must go around any fine big tree; and not through it. I was only sorry that this good ruling was not made be- fore the tree was killed. We are so apt to do that in America! Irrep- arable loss has to happen before we learn our lesson. In Boston we let the beautiful old John Hancock house on Beacon Hill be destroyed before we realized that it was unique and nothing could ever take its place. Everyone always regretted it and we have learnt to cherish the less fine examples of our colonial architecture. That is why I am writing to you now, because I feel that you have the vision of the future, and it needs some one who has both the vision, and the authority to save the natural scenery of this unique island. It is admittedly the most beautiful spot east of the Mississippi or it would not have been selected as the only National Park in the Eastern half of the country. Many of us, old inhabitants, who have travelled all over the world, come back to it each time sat- isfied that it combines more of beauty and of health-giving climate and pleasure than any spot on earth. It, therefore, seems as if it might be the one spot kept sacred for the joy and health of future generations. The man who saved it for this would go down to posterity blessed even more than the discoverer of the island, Champlain. In the near future a wild and beautiful spot still in its primeval beauty, and as accessible to big cities as this is, would be a boon such as at present no one dreams of. Here would be found real recreation, away from the noise and dirt of traffic and motors. Still lakes where one could bathe and fish, mountain trails as silent and remote as any in the Rockies, eagles, deer, and other wild animal life, rare plants, and a few remaining trees of the primeval forest, all within a short distance of crowded districts. It is yet not quite too late to save all this, but nearly so. Already some of the very few big trees in the most remote heart of this wilderness are lying prostrate, big gashes are being blasted in the mountain sides and roads circle most of the beautiful lakes. Huge granite bridges look completely out of place spanning graceful, slight waterfalls, and the noise and dirt of the motors send the wild animals and birds scurrying away, but much is still left unspoilt and if the vandalism could stop now before the place is all riddled with roads, the beauty of the island would in some measure be saved.