Louis was always a busy man of affairs and never shirked his kingly duties.  It was a principle of his life to place duty first and pleasure after.  He told his son in his memoirs that an idle king showed ingratitude toward God and injustice toward man.  “The requirements and demands of royalty,” he wrote, “which may, at times, appear hard and irksome, you should find easy and agreeable in high places.  Nothing will exhaust you more than idleness.  If you tire of great affairs, and give up to pleasures, you will soon be disgusted with your own idleness.  To take in the whole world with intelligent eyes, to be learning constantly what is going on in the provinces and among other nations—­the court secrets, the habits, the weaknesses of princes and foreign ministers, to see clearly what all people are trying, to their utmost, to conceal, to fathom the most deep-seated thoughts and convictions of those that attend us in our own court—­what greater pleasure and satisfaction could there be, if we were simply prompted by curiosity?”

Ordinarily, when at Versailles, the King dined alone at one o’clock, seated by the middle window of his chamber, overlooking the courtyards, the Place d’Armes, and the long avenue that led to Paris.  More than three hundred persons,—­stewards, chefs, butlers, gentlemen servants, carvers, cup-bearers, table-setters, cellarers, gardeners,—­were charged with the care of the kitchens, pantries, cellars, fruit-lofts, store-rooms, linen closets, and treasuries of gold and silver plate belonging to the King’s immediate household—­the Maison du Roi.  The Officers of the Goblet were present when the King was served, having first, with attendant ceremonies, “made the trial” of napkins and table implements as a safeguard from evil designs against his life.  Even the simplest repast served to the King comprised many dishes, for the Grand Monarch ate heartily, though with discriminating appetite.

Unless the Sovereign dined in the privacy of his bed-chamber, he was surrounded by princes and courtiers.  At “public dinners” a procession of well-dressed persons continually passed through the room to observe the King at his dining.

It was ordained that the King’s meat should be brought to the table from the kitchens in the Grand Commune after this manner:  “Two of His Majesty’s guards will march first, followed by the usher of the hall, the maitre d’hotel with his baton, the gentleman servant of the pantry, the controller-general, the controller clerk of the Office, and others who carry the Meat, the equerry of the kitchen and the guard of the plates and dishes, and behind them two other guards of His Majesty, who are to allow no one to approach the Meat.