The living of Castle Cumber, left vacant by the promotion of Mr. Lucre to a Bishopric, was given to an Englishman, as was then the practice, and would be now, were it not for the influence of common shame and public opinion.

Mr. Clement opened an Academy in Castle Cumber, and succeeded; for he thought it a wiser thing to live by teaching a school, than to suffer his large family and himself to starve by the gospel.

We now beg to close, by a paragraph from the True Blue:—­

“Elevation of the Rev. Dr. Lucre to the See of ------

“For many years a duty at once so painful and so delightful, has not devolved upon us as a public journalist.  The elevation of the Right Rev., Father in God,, Phineas Lucre to the See of ------, is a dispensation to our Irish Establishment which argues the beneficent hand of a wise and overruling Providence.  In him we may well say, that another bright and lustrous star is added to that dark, but beautiful galaxy, in the nether heavens above us, which is composed of our blessed Bishops.  The diocese over which he has been called by the Holy Spirit to preside, will know, as they ought, how to appreciate his learning and attainments.  But what shall we say of the poor of Castle Cumber, to whom he has been such a kind, meek, charitable, and consoling dispenser of God’s gifts and God’s word?  At the bed of death, of disease, of poverty—­at every post, no matter how poor, low, neglected, or how dangerous—­there was he to be found, the champion of God—­fighting his battles in peace, self-denial, and charity.  It is true, he is not an Irishman; but is it not a blessed thing that such links of love as he, and of those who resemble him, should continue to bind the virtues of the two churches, and the two countries together?  His Lordship was consecrated on last Sunday, by that Right Rev. and blessedly facetious prelate, Archbishop Drapely, who, in addition to his other evangelical gifts, is said to be a perfect Toler in canonicals.  It is not often that so much piety proceeds from so comic a source.”

Our readers can scarcely forget the circumstances of Mr. Lucre’s departure out of this wicked, ungodly, and sensual world.  About eight years ago, or less, he died in a very pious fit of apoplectic passion, brought on by his cook, in consequence of that important functionary having neglected the apostolic duty of dressing a haunch of venison, we presume, upon scriptural authority.  We regret to say, for the sake of the Church, and the loss which she sustained in consequence, that the haunch in question was considerably overdone—­a fact which one would scarcely imagine could have produced such important results upon the religion of the country as it did by his death.