CHAPTER TEN 



ON my return to the University in the early fall, I Building 

 once more devoted my energies to teaching, putting U P a 

 forth special efforts on behalf of those students who 

 showed a genuine love of nature, as well as of those 

 who found in my laboratory a kind of training they 

 received nowhere else. As a consequence, a number 

 of excellent men were soon drawn to us from various 

 parts of the West by the opportunity for original 

 study in Zoology and Geology; and the scientific 

 work of the state, at least so far as those two branches, 

 and later Botany also, are concerned, has ever since 

 been mainly centered in Bloomington. 



To meet the needs of my students it now became 

 necessary to modify the conventional curriculum. 

 As I have before explained, up to that time colleges 

 generally (the denominational schools in particular) 

 had maintained fixed courses, a few electives only 

 being grudgingly allowed, and these postponed as 

 a rule to the senior year. That is, under pressure of 

 student demands, the classical curriculum had al- 

 ready begun to break, yielding little by little to 

 courses regarded by the classicists as "inferior," 

 with modern languages in place of Greek, and 

 sometimes fragmentary science as a partial sub- 

 stitute. The new courses, composed of odds and Varying 

 ends, were known as "Literature," "Science," or de ^ rees 

 "Philosophy," and led to the Bachelor's Degree of 

 B.L., Ph.B., or B.S., according to their nominal 

 make-up. 



