Mary was buried in Westminster Abbey, with all the pomp of a purple and gold coffin, banners, and escutcheons, Lords in scarlet and ermine, and Commons in black mantles; far more interesting than all that is the following incident, carefully recorded: “A robin redbreast, which had taken refuge in the Abbey, was seen constantly on her hearse, and was looked upon with tender affection for its seeming love to the lamented Queen.”[235] Loyalty to William, and sympathy with him in his great loss, were expressed in numerous addresses. A large collection of elegiac poems were published at Cambridge, entitled, _Lacrymæ Cantabrigienses_, &c., by a list of Dons, some of whom became Bishops; and the London Clergy vied with each other in their eulogiums--to use the words of a contemporary letter-writer, playing “the fool in their hyperbolical commendation of the Queen, that looks like fulsome flattery, and some expressions bordering upon blasphemy.”[236] The Presbyterians, headed by Dr. Bates, presented an address of condolence to His Majesty. [Sidenote: 1695.] The nonjuring Clergy were much excited by the publication of Tenison’s sermon, since it represented the Queen as eminently religious and devout, but said not a word of any repentance for having assumed her father’s crown, and for the filial impiety considered to be involved in such conduct. A letter to this effect, published in the month of March, 1695, created an intense sensation, being attributed to Bishop Ken. It is printed as his composition in the Memoirs of Tenison; but the Layman who wrote Ken’s life pronounces it “a tissue of bitter obloquy against the Queen and the Archbishop, wholly inconsistent with the meek spirit of the author of the _Practice of Divine Love_.”[237] Upon internal grounds he rejects its genuineness. I feel disposed to do the same. Tenison also, it appears, doubted it, but I find no notice of Ken’s having disavowed the authorship; and we must not forget how possible it is for an amiable and pious man, under the influence of what he regards as duty, to say things which run counter to the generally calm and quiet current of his life. [Sidenote: LICENSING OF THE PRESS.]