aid from the man whom she had reviled and persecuted, and she entreated Ambrose to undertake another embassy to the usurper. The bishop cheerfully consented; and he executed his mission with his usual ability and fortitude. This time he was not, however, successful-he could not stay the progress of the enemy. But the emperor Theodosius, who then reigned at Constantinople, came to the assistance of his colleague Valentinian, and put an end to the usurpation and the life of Maximus.

By the judicious influence of this Christian prince, the young emperor was induced to abandon his mother's heretical principles, and to embrace those of Ambrose; to which, in form at least, he adhered till his death, which occurred in the year 392. He was then engaged in quelling another usurpation in the west; and, finding death approaching, he sent for Ambrose to baptize him. The bishop immediately set out to comply with the request; but while on his journey he heard that Valentinian had expired, at which he was deeply affected, and wrote to Theodosius, expressing his sorrow, and his hope that the young emperor had died a sincere Christian.

The death of Valentinian did not take place until five years after the period at which our story has arrived; but we have alluded to it in order to exhibit more clearly the charity, the generosity, and the indomitable firmness of the venerable Ambrose.

Such, then, was the pastor who presided over the Christian community of Milan towards the close of the fourth century. Such was the man by whose instrumentality the seed of true faith was sown in the heart of Augustine, and the germ of a

saving repentance was implanted in his soul! The good seed was watered by the tears, and breathed on by the prayers, of a faithful and a loving mother, and it was strengthened by communion with his anxious and inquiring friend Alypius; but it was God alone who gave the increase, and brought forth abundant fruit in this "brand snatched from the burning."

CHAPTER XIV.

OGETHER Augustine and Alypius had tried to find happiness and peace in the pleasures of the world, and

in the purer, but not more satisfying pursuits of philosophy, and intellectual exercises. Together they had proved the utter incapability of any such objects to fill the aching, craving void of an immortal spirit, that has not sought and found its rest in God. And together they were moved, by the providence of God, to give themselves to an earnest and unprejudiced study of the Epistles of St. Paul.

The desire of the friends to enter into the spirit of these inspired writings, and no longer, as formerly, to cavil at the letter, was now at length sincere; and, as might be anticipated, it was gratified. The veil which had so long obscured the spiritual vision of both these talented young men, seemed to be removed; and, in the light of God's Spirit, they read the sacred words with understanding. The difficulties which had so long proved stumbling-blocks in their way now disappeared, and the gospel no longer seemed to disagree with the Law and the Prophets. The doctrines which were set forth so clearly and so eloquently in the discourses of Ambrose approved themselves to the reason and the judgment of the young students; and it only remained that their hearts should be warmed, and their affections stirred up.

This blessed work was partially effected by the pious conversation of the aged Simplician, once a presbyter at Rome, but then residing at Milan. Simplician was a man of eminent learning and piety, and had been greatly instrumental in the instruction of Ambrose in the vital truths of Christianity; and he was by him sincerely loved and revered. It now pleased God to make him useful in the conversion of another distinguished luminary of the Christian church, and in conveying to Augustine that holy love and genuine simplicity in religion which had so sadly decayed away in the professing Christian church.

To Simplician, Augustine confessed the sins of his past life, and the infidel notions which he had nourished in his breast; and from the venerable and judicious presbyter he received such counsel and such encouragement as he could venture to give to one who had so often backslidden.

Augustine was convinced, but he was not converted. His moral courage failed him when he thought of the self-denial and self-sacrifice that would be required to enable him to "confess Christ before men," and he held back from the effort. Still he continued his scriptural studies with his friend Alypius; and, to their great satisfaction, they were at this time joined by their mutual friend Pontianus, whom they had known intimately in Africa.

This young man had already become a sincere convert to Christianity; and, as is ever the case with those who have found the heavenly treasure, he earnestly desired that others should share the blessing which had been vouchsafed to himself.

One evening he was the guest of Augustine, at a small house which the latter had taken for a time, at a little distance from Milan; and he was engaged in serious conversation with him and Alypius. Among other instances of conversion which he held up for their example and encouragement, he told them the story of an Egyptian named Anthony, who had lately renounced all intercourse with the world, and retired to dwell in utter solitude, devoting his life to the worship of God, and to holy meditation.

The spirit of monasticism had then only just entered the church. The novelty of the idea was very striking to the mind of Augustine, and his ardent and imaginative spirit was fired with emulation at the account of such devotion and self-sacrifice. He saw the selfishness and the vileness of his own heart as he had never seen it before; and at the same time, he was permitted also to obtain a view of the only way of escape, the only way of salvation.

He drew back from the table, on which were spread the remains of a rich repast that he had prepared for his friends. He started to his feet, and fixing his earnest eyes on Alypius, he exclaimed in a deep and tremulous voice

"What aileth us, my brother? The unlearned strive and take heaven by force: and we, with all our learning, lo! how we wallow in sin!

There was a wildness in the look of Augustine, and an energy in his manner, that startled, and almost alarmed his friends. They were about to reply to his passionate appeal, and to endeavour to calm his agitation, but he rushed from the apartment in which they had been seated, and sought to hide his deep