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."