Wharton answered in a manner which made it clear that from him no
help was to be expected. Sunderland's terrors now became
insupportable. He had requested some of his friends to come to
his house that he might consult them; they came at the appointed
hour, but found that he had gone to Kensington, and had left word
that he should soon be back. When he joined them, they observed
that he had not the gold key which is the badge of the Lord
Chamberlain, and asked where it was. "At Kensington," answered
Sunderland. They found that he had tendered his resignation, and
that it had been, after a long struggle, accepted. They blamed
his haste, and told him that, since he had summoned them to
advise him on that day, he might at least have waited till the
morrow. "To morrow," he exclaimed, "would have ruined me. To
night has saved me."

Meanwhile, both the disciples of Somers and the disciples of
Trenchard were grumbling at Harley's resolution. The disciples of
Somers maintained that, if it was right to have an army at all,
it must be right to have an efficient army. The disciples of
Trenchard complained that a great principle had been shamefully
given up. On the vital issue, Standing Army or no Standing Army,
the Commons had pronounced an erroneous, a fatal decision.
Whether that army should consist of five regiments or of fifteen
was hardly worth debating. The great dyke which kept out
arbitrary power had been broken. It was idle to say that the
breach was narrow; for it would soon be widened by the flood
which would rush in. The war of pamphlets raged more fiercely
than ever. At the same time alarming symptoms began to appear
among the men of the sword. They saw themselves every day
described in print as the scum of society, as mortal enemies of