The recent introduction of Lord Sunderland to office soon gave rise, however, to a division in the cabinet. Harley, who was offended at the dismissal of Sir Charles Hedges, was practising upon the Queen’s weak mind, and endeavouring to persuade her Majesty to “_go alone_,”—a notion which had been sedulously kept down by the reigning influence, for many years past; or, as the Duchess expresses it, “to instil into the Queen notions of the high prerogative of acting without her ministers—(as she expressed it,) of being Queen indeed.”[77] The first proof that Anne gave of her profiting by these doctrines, was her appointing certain high church divines to fill two bishoprics. This led several of the Whigs to think themselves betrayed by the ministry; whereas the truth was, that the Queen was secretly under the influence of the Tories, and found it irksome to consult with her ministers on any promotions. The Duke of Marlborough, who, it appears, never lost the respect of his sovereign, represented to the Queen the impropriety of thus acting, and “wrote a very moving letter to her, complaining of the visible loss of his interest with her,” and recommending her Majesty, “as the only way to make her government easy, to prefer none of those that appeared to be against her service and the nation’s interest.” Notwithstanding the great general’s services, it was, however, manifest that his influence, and that of the Duchess, were now, from some cause or other, deeply undermined. The Duke, as well as the Duchess, suffered great vexation from this new and unforeseen apprehension; for it is easy to be happy without tasting power, but difficult indeed to part with it after long possession. It was in the answer to some communications from the Duchess that Marlborough wrote these touching words, betraying all the weariness of worldly anxieties. “When I writ my last, I was very full of the spleen, and I think with too much reason. My whole time, to the best of my understanding, has been employed for the public good, as I do assure you I do in the presence of God, neglecting no opportunity to let the Queen see what I take to be her true interest. It is terrible to go through so much uneasiness.”[78] The state of parties was indeed such, that “every service done to the sovereign, however just and reasonable in its own nature,” was, as an author justly observed, “made a job by the minister and his tools.”[79] The understream of faction was flowing unseen, but deep; and the Duchess was for a time insensible to the sure course which it had taken. She was intoxicated with power. Her enemies, indeed, alleged that she “considered her vicegerency as well established as the royal prerogative; that she might not only recommend a point or person, but insist on either as understood in her grant—as a perquisite of her high office; and that she was privileged to exclude everybody from the royal presence, who had not the happiness of being in her good graces.”[80]