"During all this time there appeared nothing of impatience, nothing of frowardness, nothing of anger; there was heard nothing of murmuring, nothing of impertinence, nothing of ill-sound, and scarce a number of disjointed words.

"In all these afflictions the King was greatly afflicted; how sensibly, and yet how becomingly, many saw, but few have skill enough to describe; I am sure I have not. At last, the helps of art and prayers and tears not prevailing, a quarter before one on Friday morning, after two or three small strugglings of nature, and without such agonies as in such cases are common, she fell asleep."1

I have thought it best to give this extract without any abridgment, as certain omissions in the account of the Queen's last hours became the subject of much controversy.

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." 2

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,

Memoirs of Tenison, 27-31.

2 Stanley's Westminster Abbey, 182.

that looks like fulsome flattery, and some expressions bordering upon blasphemy." The Presbyterians, headed by Dr. Bates, presented an address of condolence to His Majesty.

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. Upon internal grounds he rejects its genuineness. Tenison also, it appears,

I feel disposed to do the same. 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.

Tenison's sermon was zealously defended by an anonymous pamphleteer, who included within his defence funeral discourses delivered by other dignitaries; and whilst the press was occupied by this controversy, the friends and agents of James were rejoicing in the death of Mary as endangering the position of William. The Church of England, it was now thought, would be weaned from his cause, by the outburst of his Presbyterian predilections, even to the overthrow of Episcopacy. The ruin of its interests seemed at hand, unless the Revolution could be revolutionized. Ten thousand men, the Jacobite plotters surmised, would suffice for the reconquest of the kingdom, since the Church of England party, who had been for William only on Mary's account, were, it was thought, now entirely alienated from him. The confusion occasioned by her removal was relied upon as a proof of the inclination of the people to see their Stuart King back at St. James.1

In noticing the deaths of Sancroft, Tillotson, and Mary, we have passed over a period marked by one of those silent changes which often elude the notice of historians. The change referred to is connected very closely with religious freedom. We have had frequent occasion to notice restrictions on the liberty of the press. It is not necessary to go back further than 1662, when Lord Clarendon's Act for licensing books was passed. Act proscribed the printing and selling of heretical, schismatical, blasphemous, seditious, and treasonable publications. Nothing was to appear contrary to the Christian

1 Macpherson's Original Papers, i. 509, 520.

The

faith, or the doctrines or discipline of the Church of England. Books on law required a license from the Lord Chancellor or the Lord Chief Justices; books of history, a license from the Secretaries of State; books of divinity and philosophy, a license from the Archbishop of Canterbury. The folly of such restrictions-proved by their futility when evaded, and by their mischievousness when carried into effect-needs no comment. The Act now noticed was made to be in force for two years. It was then continued. In 1685 it was re-enacted for seven years. It continued through the Revolution; and in 1692 was renewed under the Tories for two years more. At four different times, from 1694 to 1698, attempts were made in Parliament to prepare new Bills for licensing printing presses, and the Whigs on one occasion seemed on the point of following the example of their political rivals. Movement in the old direction went so far once, that a restrictive Bill passed the Lords and was read in the Commons-to be thrown out on a second reading. Church and State thus narrowly missed being shackled again in the exercise of rights ever precious to enlightened humanity; and the year 1694, though unmarked in history, is illustrious in fact through the melting away for ever of a long-continued and mischievous licensing law. Not, however, as we shall presently see, that all legislative interference with the publishers of opinions then terminated; but a great obstacle vanished out of the path to that wide intellectual liberty which as a nation we now enjoy.

CHAPTER IX.

TILLOTSON, shortly before his death, as already

related, was engaged with his Episcopal brethren in drawing up certain ecclesiastical regulations to be issued on their authority, but which he afterwards felt would be more effective if published in the King's name. Shortly after Tenison's accession to the Archiepiscopate, injunctions were sent forth by Royal command, touching points exactly of the nature indicated to have been discussed in prior Episcopal meetings at Lambeth. When we consider the time of their appearance, we have no doubt the new Archbishop adopted the draft of his predecessor. It appeared in the form of a Royal proclamation, recommending care in conferring orders, condemning pluralities and non-residence, and urging upon Bishops to watch over their Clergy, and promote, through them, the celebration of Sacraments, the visitation of the sick, and the catechetical instruction of the young.1

The publication of these articles in the King's name is a fact not to be lightly passed over. Royal letters had been issued by Queen Elizabeth for the reform of ecclesiastical affairs, yet none of them dealt so particularly with abuses as did this mandate of William's. It is remarkable that Charles I.-the opposite in ecclesiastical and

1 Memoirs of Tenison, 42-47.