SNOW HALL.

The recent dedication of Snow Hall, at Lawrence, Kansas, is an event in the

history of the State, both historic and prophetic. Since the incorporation

of the University of Kansas, and before that event, there has been a steady

growth of science in the State, which has culminated in Snow Hall, a

building set apart for the increase and diffusion of the knowledge of

natural science, as long as its massive walls shall stand. It is named in

honor of the man who has been the inspiration and guiding spirit of the

whole enterprise, and some incidents in his life may be of interest to the

public.

Twenty years ago Professor Frank H. Snow, a recent graduate of Williams

College, came to Kansas, to become a member of the faculty of the State

University. His election to the chair of natural science was unexpected, as

he first taught mathematics in the university, and expected in due time to

become professor of Greek. As professor of the mellifluous and most plastic

of all the ancient tongues, he would undoubtedly have been proficient, as

his college classics still remain fresh in his warm and retentive memory,

and his literary taste is so severe and chaste as to make some of his

scientific papers read like a psalm. But nature designed him for another,

and some think a better, field, and endowed him with powers as a naturalist

that have won for him recognition among the highest living authorities of

his profession.

Upon being elected to the chair of natural history, Prof. Snow entered upon

his life work with an enthusiasm that charmed his associates and inspired

his pupils. The true naturalist must possess large and accurate powers of

observation and a love for his chosen profession that carries him over all

obstacles and renders him oblivious to everything else except the specimen

upon which he has set his heart. Years ago the writer was walking in the

hall of the new university building in company with General Fraser and

Professor Snow, when the latter suddenly darted forward up the stairs and

captured an insect in its flight, that had evidently just dug its way out

of the pine of the new building. In a few moments he returned with such a

glow on his countenance and such a satisfied air at having captured a rare

but familiar specimen, whose name was on his lips, that we both felt

"Surely here is a genuine naturalist."

Some years ago an incident occurred in connection with his scientific

excursions in Colorado that is quite characteristic, showing his

obliviousness to self and everything else save the object of his scientific

pursuit, and a fertility in overcoming danger when it meets him face to

face. He was descending alone from one of the highest peaks of the Rockies,

when he thought he could leave the path and reach the foot of the mountain

by passing directly down its side over an immense glacier of snow and ice,

and thus save time and a journey of several miles. After a while his way

down the glacier grew steeper and more difficult, until he reached a point

where he could not advance any further, and found, to his consternation,

that he could not return by the way he had come. There he clung to the side

of the immense glacier, ready, should he miss his hold, to be plunged

hundreds of feet into a deep chasm. The situation flashed over him, and he

knew now it was, indeed, a struggle for dear life. With a precarious

foothold, he clung to the glacier with one hand, while with his pocket

knife he cut a safer foothold with the other. Resting a little, he cut

another foothold lower down in the hard snow, and so worked his way after a

severe struggle of several hours amid constant danger to the foot of the

mountain in safety. "But," continued the professor, speaking of this

incident to some of his friends, "I was richly repaid for all my trouble

and peril, for when I reached the foot of the mountain I captured a new and

very rare species of butterfly." Multitudes of practical men cannot

appreciate such devotion to pure science, but it is this absorbing passion

and pure grit that enable the devotees of science to enlarge its boundaries

year by year.

Once, while on a scientific excursion on the great plains, with the

lamented Prof. Mudge, he nearly lost his life. He had captured a

rattlesnake, and, in trying to introduce it into a jar filled with alcohol,

the snake managed to bite him on the hand. The arm was immediately bound

tightly with a handkerchief, and the wound enlarged with a pocket knife,

and both professors took turns in sucking it as clean as possible, and

ejecting the poison from their mouths. This and a heavy dose of spirits

brought the professor through in safety, although the poison remaining in

the wound caused considerable swelling and pain in the hand and arm. When

this incident was mentioned in the Kansas Academy of Science that year,

some one said, "Now we know the effect of the bite of the prairie

rattlesnake on the human system. Let some one, in the interests of pure

science, try the effect of the timber rattlesnake on the human system." But

like the mice in the fable, no one was found who cared to put the bell on

the cat.

Professors Mudge and Snow, because scientists were so few in the State at

that early day, divided the field of natural science between themselves,

the former taking geology and the latter living forms. Professor Mudge

built up at the agricultural college a royal cabinet, easily worth $10,000,

and Professor Snow has made a collection at the State University whose

value cannot be readily estimated until it is catalogued and placed in

cases in Snow Hall.

As a scientist, Professor Snow is an indefatigable worker, conscientious

and painstaking to the last degree, never neglecting anything that can be

discovered by the microscope, and when he describes and names a new

species, he gives the absolute facts, without regard to theories or

philosophies. For accuracy his descriptions of animal and vegetable life

resemble photographs, and are received by scientists with unquestioned

authority. He possesses another quality, which may be called honesty. Some

scientists, whose reputation has reached other continents, cannot be

trusted alone in the cabinet with the keys, for they are liable to borrow

valuable specimens, and forget afterward to return them.

It is possible only to glance at the immense amount of work performed by

Professor Snow during the last twenty years. Neglecting the small fry that

can only be taken in nets with very fine meshes, he ascertained that there

are twenty-seven species of fish in the Kansas River at Lawrence. Work on

this paper occupied the leisure time of two summers, as much time in such

investigations only produces negative results. For several years he worked

on a catalogue of the birds of Kansas, inspiring several persons in

different parts of the State to assist him. Later this work was turned over

to Colonel N.S. Gross, of Topeka, an enthusiast in ornithology. Colonel

Goss has a very fine collection of mounted birds in the capitol building at

Topeka, and he has recently published a catalogue of the "Birds of Kansas,"

which contains 335 species. Professor Snow has worked faithfully on the

plants of Kansas, but as other botanists came into the State, he turned the

work over to their hands. For several years he has given a large share of

his time and strength to entomology. Nearly every year he has led

scientific excursions to different points in Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona,

etc., where he might reap the best results.

Once, during a meeting of the Kansas Academy of Science, at Lawrence,

Professor Snow was advertised to read a paper on some rare species of

butterflies. As the hour approached, the hall in the university building

was thronged, principally by ladies from the city, when Professor Snow

brought out piles of his trays of butterflies, and without a note gave such

an exhibit and description of his specimens as charmed the whole audience.

In meteorology, Professor Snow is an acknowledged authority, wherever this

science is studied, and he has, probably, all things considered, the best

meteorological record in the State.

Personally, Professor Snow possesses qualities that are worth more,

perhaps, to his pupils, in forming character, than the knowledge derived

from him as an instructor. His life is pure and ennobling, his presence

inspiring, and many young men have gone from his lecture room to hold good

positions in the scientific world. When one sees him in his own home,

surrounded by his family, with books and specimens and instruments all

around, he feels that the ideal home has not lost everything in the fall.

Snow Hall is the natural resultant of twenty years of earnest and faithful

labor on the part of this eminent scientist. The regents displayed the rare

good sense of committing everything regarding the plans of the building,

and the form and arrangement of the cases, to Professor Snow, which has

resulted in giving to Kansas the model building of its kind in the West, if

not in this country. Very large collections have accumulated at the State

University, under the labors of Professor Snow and his assistants, which

need to be classified, arranged, and labeled; and when the legislature

appropriates the money to furnish cases to display this collection in

almost every department of natural science, Kansas will possess a hall of

natural science whose influence will be felt throughout the State, and be

an attraction to scientists everywhere.--_Chaplain J.D. Parker, in Kansas

City Journal_.

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Scientific American Supplement, No. 586, March 26, 1887 · 第 45 / 50 题