In turning from the nicely poised and elaborate provisions of the Imperial laws to the crude jurisprudence of the Barbarian hordes who gradually inherited the crumbling remains of the Empire of the West, we enter into social and political conditions so different that we are naturally led to expect a corresponding contrast in every detail of legislation. For the cringing suppliant of the audience chamber, abjectly prostrating himself before a monarch who combines in his own person every legislative and executive function, we have the freeman of the German forests, who sits in council with his chief, who frames the laws which both are bound to respect, and who pays to that chief only the amount of obedience which superior vigor and intellect may be able to enforce. The structure of such a society is fairly illustrated by the incident which Gregory of Tours selects to prove the kingly qualities of Clovis. During his conquest of Gaul, and before his conversion, his wild followers pillaged the churches with little ceremony. A bishop, whose cathedral had suffered largely, sent to the king to request that a certain vase of unusual size and beauty might be restored to him. Clovis could only promise that if the messenger would accompany him to Soissons, where the spoils were to be divided, and if the vase should chance to fall to his share, it should be restored. When the time came for allotting the plunder, he addressed his men, requesting as a special favor that the vase might be given to him before the division, but a sturdy soldier, brandishing his axe, dashed it against the coveted article, exclaiming, “Thou shalt take nothing but what the lot assigns to thee.” For a year, Clovis dissembled his resentment at this rebuff, but at length, when opportunity offered, he was prompt to gratify it. While reviewing and inspecting his troops, he took occasion to reproach bitterly the uncourtly Frank with the condition of his weapons, which he pronounced unserviceable. The battle-axe excited his especial displeasure. He threw it angrily to the ground, and as the owner stooped to pick it up, Clovis drove his own into the soldier’s head, with the remark, “It was thus you served the vase at Soissons.”[1456]