Possessing an intimate knowledge of the dispositions of all the actors in that busy scene, Mr. Maynwaring, nevertheless, foresaw that the reign of Queen Sarah, as it was called, would not be of long duration. With the sincerity of a true friend, he strove to warn her of this probable issue of the “passion,” as he justly called it, with which the Queen regarded her spoiled friend.[352] He appreciated her Majesty justly, when he hinted that she had not “a very extraordinary understanding,” and that she would, in all probability, eventually prefer the servant who flattered and deceived her, to the one “who told truth, and endeavoured to do good, and to serve right.” Sometimes his sincerity displeased the Duchess; and, according to the fashion of most of her grace’s correspondents, we find him writing to justify his “poor opinion,” which had, he feared, been too hastily expressed. If he wrote from the heart, Maynwaring was, nevertheless, a true admirer of the Duchess’s good qualities. He constantly expressed his conviction of the openness and truth of her disposition. Of cunning, or that part of craft which, says Maynwaring, “Mr. Hobbes very prettily calls crooked wisdom,” he declares her to be entirely exempt. And the advice which he was at times eager to press upon her grace, to conceal her discontent, and to return to court “with the best air that she could,” proved that in this view of her character Maynwaring was sincere.[353] He died at a critical moment, and in him the Duchess lost one of those assiduous and attached adherents, whom it is sometimes the fate of impetuous, but generous characters, to secure as personal friends.