THROUGHOUT the Christian centuries, down to the nineteenth, no period is more remarkable for the number of the great men who have adorned the annals of the Church, than what is commonly known as the age of Jerome; and in that stirring period (extending from about 360 A.D., to 420 A.D.), few men were more illustrious than Ambrose, Bishop of Milan. His story must here be told in few words. It was rather by his personal character, than by the incidents of his life or by his writings, that Ambrose attained the eminence which, in later times, no less than in his own day, has always been conceded to this distinguished father of the Church. If I should attempt to characterise him in a single word, it would be by describing him as the greatest ecclesiastic of the primitive Church: an ecclesiastic in his love of power; in his union of worldly sagacity with religious enthusiasm; in the loftiness of the claims he made on behalf of the supremacy of the Church over the State; in the courage and obstinacy with which he withstood all encroachments on the privileges and prerogatives of his own Order; and in the strictness with which in the case of all conditions of men-not excepting the man who at that time still claimed in civil affairs the sovereignty of the world-he enforced the discipline of the Church. Ambrose was the Hildebrand of the fourth century. Hildebrand's conception of a spiritual autocracy in the Roman Pontiff had perhaps no place in the mind of Ambrose. But as regards the absolute independence and supremacy, if not of the Pope, at least of the Church, which is the fundamental principle of medieval Romanism, Ambrose was in the fourth century that which Hildebrand was in the eleventh. As we everywhere find, the later corruptions and usurpations of Romanism were indeed in all things no more than developments of tendencies which had appeared in the Christian Church from the beginning. At once by descent, and by native qualities, Ambrose was born to be a ruler of men.

The son of a noble Roman, who filled one of the highest and most important places in the administration-that of Prefect of the Prætorium in Gaul, having under his charge the whole of the northern provinces of the Empire, Ambrose, after a careful education, in the course of which he made himself master of Grecian and Roman learning, and after spending some years as an advocate in active practice, recommended himself by his capacity to Anicius Probus, the Pretorian Prefect of Italy, so highly, as to be appointed at an early age as the Provincial Governor of Milan. The terms in which his appointment was notified to him by Probus, themselves bear testimony to the gravity and authority of the character by which he was already distinguished: "Go," wrote the Prefect, "and govern more like a bishop than a judge." He had been born (at Arles) in the year 340. It was in 374, when he was 34 years of age, that by a rare but not unprecedented violation of ordinary rules he became bishop of the city and district in which he

had for five years acted as civil governor. His appointment was due solely to the high character he had gained, among all classes of the people, by the manner in which he had discharged the duties of his secular office, and was the more honourable to him on account of the circumstances in which it took place.

The following is the account, as given by Church historians, of the elevation of Ambrose to the See of Milan. The former bishop had been an Arian, as were many of the members of the Church in this city; and on his death, the election of a successor became the occasion of discord and division so furious as to threaten open sedition among the people. While the tumult was yet at its height, Ambrose, as governor, appeared in the Church in which the people had met to elect the new bishop, and made a speech, in which he exhorted them to exercise moderation, and to come to an understanding with one another, avoiding, above all things, a breach of the peace. It is said, that as he was speaking, a child cried out the words, "Ambrose, bishop! Whatever the means by which such a settlement of the differences was suggested, Ambrose had no sooner sat down than the whole assembly voted by acclamation that the governor himself should be the new bishop. be the new bishop. Though already a Christian, Ambrose was not only at this time a simple layman, but he had not even been baptised; for he belonged as yet to the catechumens of the Church. Nor was he only technically disqualified. He had personally the strongest disinclination to the episcopal officea disinclination due to his high sense of its onerous responsibilities. Some of the means by which he is said to have attempted to escape from the undesired dignity are odd enough, and even of questionable propriety, judged by modern principles of ethics. After protesting in vain against their choice, he left the assembly, we are told, and proceeded at once to the Court-house; and, to prove his unfitness for the office of a bishop, he, affecting an unwonted severity, caused certain criminals, whom he desired to be brought before him, to be put to the torture. He afterwards fled from Milan by night, intending to retire to Pavia; and, when losing his way in the darkness, he fell into the hands of a detachment of soldiers sent in pursuit of him, he in the end appealed, but appealed in vain, to the Emperor against the popular choice. The Emperor's reply was that he was glad he should have been found to appoint governors and judges who were considered worthy to be made bishops. It has been held by some writers that the "Nolo episcopari" was in his case, as it has been sometimes doubtless in others, affected; but there is no reason to believe Ambrose was otherwise than sincere in his professed aversion to the office. He ultimately gave way to the will of the people of Milan; and, the ecclesiastical canons as to persons eligible for such an appointment having been dispensed with, he was baptised, and immediately afterwards consecrated to the episcopal office.

When placed in this high position, Ambrose began at once to devote himself with the utmost zeal and earnestness to the fulfilment of the new duties which he had undertaken. He was remarkable for the purity, simplicity, and devoutness of his personal habits. His charities were unbounded. To the discharge of his public duties-in preaching the Gospel, in visiting the flock, and in ruling the Churches placed under his jurisdiction-he gave up every moment of his time which was not set apart for study or prayer. Even the privacy of his own house was continually encroached upon by crowds of persons who came for spiritual advice. A memorable instance of his success in ministrations of this kind is found in the cause of St. Augustine, whose conversion was furthered by the ghostly counsel which he thus received in private from Ambrose. In referring to this fact in his "Confessions," Augustine says that, when he came to visit him, he always found him so overwhelmed with business, or so intent on his studies, that he often withdrew from his chamber without being perceived by the bishop, whom he could not permit himself to interrupt amidst so many cares.

Some of his earlier efforts were directed to the suppression of Arianism within his diocese, and so effectually that, in the year 385, there remained hardly a single citizen of Milan who professed to adhere to the Arian heresy. For this fact we are indebted to one of his own extant Epistles. He says the only exceptions were a few Goths, and one or two members of the Imperial family. It is noted by Augustine that he was less distinguished by the eloquence of his sermons than by the manner in which he fulfilled the other functions of his high office.

It would be endless to give in detail all the illustrations which have come down to us of the tone Ambrose assumed in maintaining the supremacy of the Church in relation to the State. He had the more frequent opportunities of asserting his own lofty pretensions on this point that Milan was, during his episcopate, the capital, and often the residence of the Western emperors.

His first conflict with the secular powers seems to have occurred after the death of Gratian. At the instigation of the Empress Justina, his mother, who was herself of the Arian faction, the Emperor, Justinian II., also an Arian, demanded one of the basilicas of Milan as a place of public worship for his own use, and certain other members of the Court, as well as other Arians in the city. Ambrose replied that he could never give up the temple of God. After a riot in the city, caused by this demand and its rejection, the high officers of State formally summoned the Bishop to deliver up the basilica, which the Emperor declared to be his own by right of his sovereignty. The answer of Ambrose was "The Emperor has no right to that which belongs to God. If you require my estate, you may take it; if my body, I readily give it up; have you a mind to load me with irons, or put me to death, I am content. I choose rather to be sacrificed than to give up the altars of God." Nor was he satisfied with verbal refusal. Either personally,

or by the Presbyters under him, he remained day and night in occupation of the coveted basilica; and even when it was surrounded by the Emperor's troops, effectually kept them at bay by threatening to excommunicate any soldier who, for the purpose of carrying out the Emperor's orders, entered the sacred building. Valentinian found the ecclesiastic too strong for him, and gave way for the time. When he returned to the charge, it was under the authority of a new Imperial law (Jan., 386). Ambrose would not yield an inch. "Who can deny," he wrote, in reply to the Emperor, "that, in causes of faith, the bishops judge Christian emperors? So far are they from being judged by them, Ambrose is not

of that consequence for the priesthood to be debased and dishonoured for his sake. The life of one man is not to be compared with the dignity of all the bishops. If a conference is to be held about the faith, it belongs to the bishops to hold it, as was done under Constantine, who left them the liberty of being judges."

"We

In a sermon which he preached to the people on the occasion, he adopts the same lofty tone. render to Cæsar," he there says, "the things that are Cæsar's, and to God the things that are God's. The tribute is Cæsar's, the Church is God's. Nobody can say that this is to be wanting in respect to the Emperor. What is more for his honour than to style him the son of the Church? The Emperor is in the Church, not above it!"

One example of his courageous assertion of the pre-eminence of the priesthood, which is preserved by Theodoret, belongs, probably, to the earlier period of the reign of Theodosius. Theodosius, on a great festival of the Church, which took place when he was residing at Milan, having brought his offering to the altar, remained within the rails of the sanctuary— or within the chancel-which was set apart for the priests. It had been the custom, elsewhere. for Christian emperors to be allowed to partake of the Eucharist in the chancel rather than with the rest of the congregation. Ambrose sent to ask the Emperor if, by continuing in the chancel, after having left his offering, he wanted anything. Theodosius answered, that he stayed to assist at the holy mysteries and to communicate. The Archdeacon was immediately sent back with the message, "My lord, it is lawful for none but the sacred ministers to communicate within

the sanctuary. Be pleased, therefore, to go out, and take your place with the rest of the congregation. The purple robe makes princes but not priests." Theodosius humbly answered, that "he stayed not with a design of doing anything against the Church, or out of any affectation to distinguish himself from other communicants, but that he thought the custom was the same at Milan as at Constantinople, where his place was in the sanctuary;" and after having thanked the Archbishop for being so kind as to inform him of his duty, he went out of the rails and took his place among the laity: a rule which, the historian adds, he ever afterwards followed, both at Milan and at Constantinople, and in which he was imitated by succeeding emperors.

The most signal instance of the same feature of the public life of Ambrose relates to the same Theo

dosius, and to an incident in his reign which, from what we know otherwise of his history, appears to be probable in itself. Thessalonica was still, as in the age of the Apostles, a Christian city. It was more exclusively Christian even than Antioch, Rome, or Alexandria. But it contained, as all Christian cities do, at all times, a mixed population, many of the inhabitants being worthless enough. The imprisonment of a favourite charioteer, on a criminal charge, and the refusal of the governor to release him in time to take part in the games of the circus, was the occasion of an emeute, in which the governor and other imperial officials were put to death. The Emperor, naturally of violent temper, was irritated beyond measure; and in spite of remonstrance, in which Ambrose himself joined, he resolved upon a signal punishment. His vengeance took a shape for which no excuse can be accepted as sufficient. Giving orders that the inhabitants should be invited to assemble themselves in the circus, as for a fête, he secretly instructed his officers at Thessalonica to let loose the troops on the unsuspecting multitude; and as the result, the ground was, in the course of a short time, strewed with the bleeding corpses of 7000 persons, men, women, and children. Ambrose, like all the Roman world, was horrified at a crime which no provocation could justify. He was equal, however, to the occasion. A short time afterwards, Theodosius arrived at his palace in Milan. Ambrose was then absent from his diocese, but soon returned. He had already written to the Emperor a letter full of indignation, exhorting him to repentance, but assuring him that, till he saw proof of contrition for so cruel and inhuman a proceeding, he could not receive him at the Eucharist. No sooner, however, had Ambrose come back to Milan than Theodosius presented himself with his usual royal retinue at the doors of the Cathedral Church. The fearless and intrepid Bishop, dressed in his pontifical robes, confronted the imperial wrong-doer, and, blocking the doorway with his person, expressed his astonishment at the effrontery of which, as he thought, the monarch had been guilty. "I see, Emperor!" he said, "you are blind to the flagrancy of the murder which you have committed. Your unlimited power seems to have so dazzled you as to obscure your sense of your terrible guilt. You rule over men who are your brethren by nature, and by service to a common King, the Creator of all things. How dare you plant your feet in the sanctuary of God, and raise your hands, dripping as they are with blood unjustly shed? How dare you expect to take into your hands the sacred body of the Lord, or to put His precious blood to those lips which have given the order for the death of so many innocent victims? Withdraw, and do not add a fresh crime to those with which you are already burdened."

The whole story is too long to be told. Enough to say, that, conscience-stricken and weeping, the Emperor quailed before the flashing eyes and scathing words of the priest, and returned to his palace. When Christmas, sometime after, arrived, he sent one

of his chief officers to beg for his restoration to Church privileges, that he might not be excluded from the cathedral at a festival, already one of the most honoured in the Christian Church. Ambrose spurned the messenger from him with indignation; and, being afterwards told that the Emperor himself was approaching, said, "If he comes I will repel him from the vestibule of the Church." It was not. till, by a special law, he had provided against the recurrence of a like offence, and after acts of penance of unexampled severity, that the re-admission of the Emperor to Church privileges was entertained, and, after long delay, was carried into effect.

The history of the connection of Ambrose with the hymnology of the Latin Church may be touched upon before concluding this hasty sketch. At what period Christian songs of praise first found their place in common worship is very imperfectly known. There are references to Christian hymns in the Acts of the Apostles, in some of St. Paul's Epistles, in the Apostolical Constitutions, in Pliny's Letter to Trajan, in Eusebius, and in "Origin, Contra Celsum." It was in the fourth century, however, that the greatest impulse was given to the liturgical use of hymns, and in this direction no one appears to have done more good work than Ambrose. Even the number of new hymns attributed to this father is very great. In the "Thesaurus Hymnologicus" of Hermann Daniel, no fewer than ninety of the old Latin hymns, including many afterwards adopted in the Roman Breviary, are either attributed to Ambrose or described as "Ambrosian," that is, as hymns written about his time, and introduced into the Breviary known as the Milanese Breviary. The following hymns are directly attributed to him by ancient authorities:-"Deus Creator Omnium," "Veni, Redemptor Gentium," "O Lux Beati Trinitas," "Eterne Rerum Conditor." He is also said to have originated antiphonal singing in public worship.

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It was long customary to include among the hymns of Ambrose the "Te Deum Laudamus." The tradition is that Augustine and Ambrose were jointauthors of this, among the most celebrated of all uninspired spiritual songs, and that it was composed for and first sung on the occasion of the ceremony of the baptism of Augustine at Milan. But this tradition is now generally discredited, the hymn being held, in recent times, to belong to a date not earlier than the middle of the sixth century, or 150 years after the time of Ambrose.

Ambrose died at Milan the 4th of April, 397, aged 57 years. One of the most subtle, and at the same time, upon the whole, the most appreciative estimates of his character is that which has been given of him by Bishop Hampden, in his "Bampton Lectures on the Scholastic Philosophy," which concludes by saying that "in Ambrose we contemplate the talent of the skilful governor of the Church; a determination inspired by a confidence of actual power; and an exertion of that power for the maintenance of his religious principles."

"Then come to the end of your garden where ours join it," said Bertha. "The wall is so low there that we can talk over it quite comfortably."

Annchen hesitated, but in the end she yielded to temptation, and began a sly habit from which a few months before she would have shrunk with horror. The golden key was almost rusted over now. Annchen, at first afraid to pray while regularly deceiving her mother, soon ceased to think of prayer at all; and her conscience, which had given her many a pang in the beginning, seldom troubled her

now.

The Easter holidays had begun, and Annchen was allowed to help her mother to make the Easter cakes for Sunday. When the tempting cakes were drawn from the oven, Annchen begged for one to eat at

once.

"No, dear, you must wait till to-morrow," answered her mother. "You know hot bread or cake always makes you ill. Come, help me to carry them into the pantry, and put them in rows to cool."

Annchen obeyed, and, in doing so, she contrived to slip one of the cakes into her pocket, thinking her mother would not miss it. She was mistaken. As her mother arranged the last batch, her quick eye at once missed a cake from the first heap. She counted, and found one short.

"There is a cake missing, Annchen," she said. "Run and see if it has been left in the kitchen."

Annchen did as she was told, and returned in a few moments.

"I think it must have fallen and been eaten by the dog," she said. "He is in the kitchen, and was cating something when I went in."

"Very likely; well, it will not do Bello the same harm it would have done my little daughter," returned her mother, laughing.

Annchen ran up stairs to her room, and hastily ate her stolen cake.

The next day she was ill. She was too sick to go to church with the others, and her mother would have remained with her, but Annchen begged her to go off.

"I am not very ill, mother," she said. "Nurse is in the next room with baby if I want anything,

and I must not keep you from church on Easter Sunday."

"Do not try to get up, then, and I will ask your grandmother to come and sit a little with you. I cannot think what has made you ill, my darling," added the gentle, loving mother.

For the first time for many months, Annchen felt sorry at having deceived her mother. When she was left alone she lay thinking of her many, many sins, and longed for courage to struggle against her own evil nature. But she did not think of praying for help. A knock at the door roused her. A servant entered and placed a little covered basket on the table at Annchen's bed.

"A little Easter gift from your grandmother, and she will be here shortly," said the girl.

Annchen hastily uncovered the basket. It was a pretty, dainty little thing, filled with green moss, in which lay a number of white sugar eggs surrounded by a wreath of primroses. Primroses! the sight of her favourite flowers brought back to Annchen's mind her childish fancy that they were the keys of Heaven. She thought of little Hans, and shuddered to think that should she, too, die, she could not hope to go to Heaven. She had not kept that golden key bright with constant prayer; it was rusted, and could not open Heaven for her. She stretched out her arms to her grandmother as she entered, and leaning her head on that faithful breast, sobbed out her confession.

'Oh, grandmother," she cried, "my golden key is rusted quite away. What can I do to make it bright and clean again? What can ever make my wicked heart pure?"

"The blood of Christ cleanseth us from all sin,' replied her grandmother. "Turn to Him, my darling, and He will not refuse you. He alone can give you a new heart, and help you to fight against your sins."

Annchen wept no more. She folded her hands and prayed, and when her mother came home from church, she was ready with a full confession of all her secret sins. Gladly did her mother forgive her, and, with a mind at peace, Annchen fell asleep that night with a prayer on her lips that Jesus might cleanse her heart and make it a key to Heaven.