The care with which the monies of this penurious university are looked after is certainly wonderful. Such care, indeed, would be the delight of an ordinary miser, who scrimps himself until he has impaired many of his faculties, and would likewise make the heart of a Jersey bank cashier sink within him. Take for instance the condition of the chapel on a dark day and the force of this remark will be evident to all. To make the services there as wholesome as possible the authorities seem bound to have them run on an economical manner that each morning a lesson against worldly extravagance may be inculcated in the heart of the spendthrift student. Not content with the saving of 97 cents made by not lighting the lamps in the yard in recess the careful "watch dogs of the treasury" wish to save an additional penny by not using gas in the chapel on very dark days, when it is needed. The pulpit alone is lighted, while the poor beings below and above stand in the dim, sacred light of the painted windows and vainly endeavor to make out through the gloom the big letters of the psalm books. Much good eyesight is being uselessly squandered in these rash attempts to follow the service, while the "powers that be" calmly look on at the destruction.