“The Duke de Beauvilliers,” says St. Simon, “was early touched by God, and never lost His presence, but lived entirely in the future world, indifferent to place and cabal and worldly advantage, content, when called to the council-board, simply to state his true opinion, without much caring whether it was followed or not.” Punctual and orderly almost to excess, he controlled his household with vigilant kindness, and took on his shoulders, as the king himself bore witness, a load of administrative details that would have killed four other men. In society he was rather shy and stiff by nature, as well as on principle exceedingly careful to set a close guard on eyes and ears and lips, so that even when, as a principal minister, he was the observed of all observers, surrounded by princes and nobles, he repelled by his reserve. He had been at court nearly all his life, having early succeeded Marshal Villeroy as head of the Council of Finance, and being also first gentleman of the chamber. He had also been governor of Havre. He was called to the treasury in 1685, and to the council-board in 1691. He was acknowledged on all sides to be a man of remarkable piety and purity of life, and, as a courtier, without reproach—a very rare thing in those days. His chief fault was his timidity, and his excessive subserviency to the king. But when his conscience was aroused he could show a boldness that was most admirable, and all the more to be commended because somewhat foreign to his nature. He remained true as steel to Fénelon to his dying day, his friendship never wavering or showing diminution, even when the latter was banished from court, and all his friends were in a measure under the ban because of the king’s fierce anger. In later years the king did his best to separate the two, even sending for the duke and explicitly threatening him with a like fate to that of his friend if he did not give him up. But the duke replied, with dignity and feeling: “Sire, you have placed me where I am, and you can displace me. I shall accept the will of my sovereign as the voice of God, and I should retire from court at your bidding regretting your displeasure, but hoping to lead a more peaceful life in retirement.” This manly, uncompromising stand made a deep impression on the king, who, in spite of his liking for his own way, knew that he could hardly afford to spare so faithful and conscientious a servant; nothing more was said about the matter.