This history was related to me, with many similar ones, on the last voyage I made from India to France. When I arrived, I went to Versailles on business, and saw in the street a beautiful woman, followed by many others who were also beautiful. "Who is that beautiful woman?" said I to the barrister who had accompanied me; for I had a cause then depending before the Parliament of Paris about some dresses that I had had made in India, and I was desirous of having my counsel as much with me as possible. "She is the daughter of the king," said he, "she is amiable and beneficent; it is a great pity that, in no case or circumstance whatever, such a woman as that can become queen of France." "What!" I replied, "if we had the misfortune to lose all her relations and the princes of the blood--which God forbid--would not she, in that case, succeed to the throne of her father?" "No," said the counsellor; "the Salic law expressly forbids it." "And who made this Salic law?" said I to the counsellor. "I do not at all know," said he; "but it is pretended, that among an ancient people called the Salii, who were unable either to read or write, there existed a written law, which enacted, that in the Salic territory a daughter should not inherit any freehold." "And I," said I to him, "I abolish that law; you assure me that this princess is amiable and beneficent; she would, therefore, should the calamity occur of her being the last existing personage of royal blood, have an incontestable right to the crown: my mother inherited from her father; and in the case supposed, I am resolved that this princess shall inherit from hers."