The Anonymous Life and Character of Saint Ambrose

For when Auxentius, who had embraced the schism of Arius and held charge of the Church of Milan, having been abdicated in many synods, had died, the emperor Valentinian, having summoned the bishops to himself, used these words among them: You clearly know, as befits men nourished on the divine words, what sort of man ought to be he who is promoted to the honor of the episcopate; and by what reasoning he ought to govern his subjects not by word alone, but also by life, and to set himself forth as an exemplar of every virtue, and finally to have the ordering of his life as witness of his doctrine. Set up, therefore, now also upon the episcopal throne such a man, that we, by whom the empire is governed, may sincerely bow our heads to him, and receive the reproofs made by him as a medicinal cure; for since we are men, it is altogether necessary that we also give offense.

When the religious emperor Valentinian had spoken thus, the assembly begged that he himself would cast the vote, since he was adorned with wisdom and piety. But he said: Such an undertaking far exceeds my powers; but you who are adorned with divine grace, and endowed with this same splendor, will more fittingly cast the vote. These, therefore, departing thence, deliberated among themselves. Moreover the citizens of that city were stirring up sedition among themselves, some contending that this man should be preferred, others that man. For those who were infected with the plague of Auxentius gave their votes to those of like mind with themselves; those, on the contrary, who stood on the sounder side, sought to have a bishop who was a partner of the true faith.

And so the divine Ambrose, distinguished in the Roman senate, after many other summits of honors, had at that time obtained the prefecture of Italy from the pious emperors Constantine and Constans. He was indeed a man pure in life and a lover of virtue, approved both in words and in deed; nourished moreover in the wisdom that is drawn from the sacred writings, although he had not yet been initiated. Nay more, he was practiced in Grecian eloquence and in the poetic faculty, an equitable and sound arbiter of affairs alike, and a careful inquirer into every wicked action.

The same man, having been informed of these disturbances, and fearing lest something untoward should happen, went with great speed to the church, and quieted the commotions of both sides. But they, laying aside their contention, sent forth one common voice, demanding together that blessed Ambrose himself be ordained as pastor for them. When the emperor learned of this, he immediately decreed that this praiseworthy man be both initiated and consecrated; for he knew that the man's mind was more upright than any balance, and his judgment more accurate than any rule. He suspected, moreover, that this had come to pass not without the reckoning of God, conjecturing the matter from the agreement of those who had before differed in their opinions.

But after Ambrose had obtained the gift of most sacred baptism, and had received episcopal grace, the excellent emperor—for he was present at these proceedings—is said to have offered to the Savior and Lord a hymn of this kind: Thanks to Thee, Lord Almighty and our Savior, that to this same man I indeed committed bodies, but Thou committed souls; and Thou hast shown my judgment to have been just.

Now when a few days had elapsed, this same divine Ambrose, addressing the emperor with greater freedom, rebuked him, as it happened, on account of certain matters not rightly done by his prefects; the emperor said: I indeed had long known this freedom of yours, and knowingly and willingly I not only did not oppose it, but even cast my vote together for your ordination. Heal, therefore, as the divine law commands, the wounds of our souls.

Thus when Valentinian, the great and pious emperor, had spoken and done these things at Milan, and had well ordered the empire, and had shone forth in the profession of the right faith; in the sixteenth year of his reign he departed this life: he left as successors his sons Gratian and the younger Valentinian, his brother Valens holding power in the regions of the East, he namely who had joined himself in perfidy to the Arians. This man, having engaged in battle with the Goths and been defeated, fleeing into a hut of straw, perished there by fire: but upon Gratian, the son indeed of Valentinian, and the nephew of Valens through his brother, fell the whole power of the Roman dominion; for first he received from his father not only the scepter of Europe, but also of the whole West: then, when Valens had been taken away without children, he obtained Asia also, and whatever remained in Africa.

But since, after his father's example, he cultivated piety, he recalled from exile all the bishops whom Valens, in favor of the Arian heresy, had driven from their homeland as exiles. The same man also, when he learned that Thrace had been devastated by the barbarians, victorious in war while Valens reigned, left Italy and came into Pannonia.

At about this same time Theodosius also, celebrated both for the nobility of his forebears and for his own excellence, and driven out by the envy of his equals, was living in Spain, where he had been both born and reared. The emperor Gratian, therefore, not knowing what should be done—for the barbarians, puffed up by their victory, were almost invincible and were reckoned so—judged that Theodosius's military skill would be the repelling of these evils. And straightway summoning the man from Iberia, which is also called Spain, and putting him in command of the war, he sent him with an army gathered together. This man, girded about with unconquered arms, and, to be sure, with orthodox faith, advanced with great confidence against the hostile battle-line.

And entering Thrace, he indeed conquered by force in battle: but the barbarians, not sustaining even the first onset, at once all together turned their backs; and much slaughter of them was wrought not only by the Romans, but also now by themselves: for the greater their numbers were, the more they inflicted harm upon themselves rather than upon their enemies.

Thus, when nearly all these had been destroyed, a very few, who were able to conceal themselves, crossed the Danube. Gratian, therefore, rejoicing that he had entrusted the sum of the war to Theodosius, at once declared him emperor, and committed to him the scepter of the dominion which Valens had before held. And he himself indeed passed over to the administration of Italy, but sent that man away to the empire granted to him. Theodosius, therefore, taking up the royal dignity, gave the greatest care he could to the concord of the Churches, and exhorted the bishops of his own dominion to assemble at Constantinople; for this alone had been filled full of the Arian plague, while those parts which lay toward the West were free of this disease. For since Constantine and Constans, sons of Constantine the Great, preserved their father's faith undefiled, and Valentinian again in no way betrayed the piety of his house, the Eastern portion admitted this plague in various places, which, having first begun at Alexandria, was advancing into farther regions.

These things indeed were being done while Gratian was still living. But afterward, when he himself was now showing his character in matters of war, and was ruling the cities with moderation and justice, he departed this life through treachery, leaving no sons to succeed to the kingdom, but making his brother, still quite young and bearing his father's name, successor to the empire. Then a certain Maximus, scorning the youth of Valentinian, usurped the throne of the Western empire.

At this same time also Justina, wife indeed of the great Valentinian, but mother of the younger, who had long before received the seed of Arian doctrine, made it manifest to her son. For, being well aware of her husband's zeal for the orthodox faith, she had attempted to conceal it as long as he lived: but knowing that her son's mind was tender and pliable, she did not hesitate to bring her deceit into the open. He, indeed, thinking his mother's suggestions useful, and, on account of his age, regarding the enticing bait as natural, at once fell into the snare. Wherefore the great Ambrose, who had already long before expelled all Arian deceit from Italy, when he learned that the boy Valentinian too was falling into it, strove, so far as was in his power, to free the young man's soul from it. But he held that man as suspect, as an adversary, and was prepared against him as against an avowed enemy.

He, moreover, called to his remembrance his father's piety, and adjured him to preserve intact the inheritance he had received: he taught, moreover, what the difference of the doctrines was, and how these things indeed all fittingly agreed with the teaching of Christ and the preaching of the apostles, while those on the contrary fought against the spiritual legislation. But the boy, being a boy, and enticed by the blandishments of his deceived mother, was armed both with words, and surrounded the precincts of the church with armed soldiers.

But afterward, when nothing of the things being done deterred that greatest of warriors, the divine Ambrose (for he reckoned these things as mere terrors for children), he, taking it very ill, ordered him to go outside the thresholds of the churches. But Ambrose said: To do this of my own will, and to betray the folds of the sheep to wolves, even should blood have to be shed, I will by no means endure. But if it is your will that I be slain within, apply, he said, a sword or an axe to me; such a death I shall embrace most gladly of all. And these things indeed the divine Ambrose said.

And no small span of time having passed, Maximus was informed of these attempts which had been made against the most illustrious herald of truth. He therefore sent to Valentinian, to admonish him to desist from the war he had undertaken against piety itself, and to exhort him not to cast away his father's religion. But unless he complied, he threatened him with a most grievous war, and indeed, having gathered an army, he advanced toward Milan; for this was the seat Valentinian had chosen for his dwelling. He, when he learned of the man's incursion, fled into Illyria, having learned by this very experience how much his mother's counsels had profited him.

But when the emperor Theodosius learned both what Maximus was plotting against the younger Valentinian, and again what he had written to him, he signified by letter to the fleeing youth that no one should wonder if fear were joined to a king, and strength to a tyrant: For, he said, upon piety the king made war, but the tyrant gave it aid; and the one indeed, forsaking it, fled away naked: the other, on the contrary, armed with it, bore off victory over the one stripped bare: for the Lawgiver himself was helper of its piety.

These things, therefore, he announced by letter, since he was separated by a long distance: but afterward, when he came to his aid, and saw that man, having left his own empire, present with him; first indeed he applied medicine to his soul, and, expelling the disease of impiety with which he was afflicted, brought him back to his ancestral piety. Then, bidding him take courage, and bringing his standards against the tyrant, he restored to him the empire without bloodshed, but visited the tyrant with punishment. For indeed he believed he would violate the pact entered into with Gratian, unless he exacted penalties from those who had murdered that prince. And this same most faithful emperor also bestowed all diligence against the errors of the gentiles, and promulgated laws by which he commanded that the temples of the idols be destroyed.

For Constantine the Great, most worthy of all praise and proclamation, adorned the empire with piety: and seeing the whole world even then raving mad, he indeed altogether forbade sacrifice to demons, but allowed their shrines to stand, ordering that anyone be kept away from them. And his sons indeed followed in their father's footsteps: but Julian renewed impiety, and kindled a more vehement flame of the error already grown stale. But Jovian, having obtained the empire, again proscribed the worship of idols. And the great Valentinian too, using plainly the same laws, ruled Europe. But as for Valens, he permitted all others indeed to worship however they wished, and to worship openly what they worshipped: but against these alone, by whom the apostolic doctrines were defended, he did not cease to wage war.

Therefore, for the whole time that he reigned, fire was kindled upon the altar, and they offered libations and victims to the idols, and celebrated public banquets in the streets, and those who performed the orgies of Bacchus ran about with goatskins, dragging dogs with them, and raving, and reveling madly, and doing other such things, which openly displayed the wickedness of their master.

Now the most faithful emperor Theodosius removed all these things so completely from the midst, as though they had never existed from the beginning: and in their place he established many other things for the Christians. But indeed, of him who from the earliest ages has been the enemy of mankind, all the nets are escaped only with difficulty; for often someone, when he has escaped the disease of luxury, is perhaps caught in the snare of avarice: and if that snare should be the greater, from another quarter again the abyss of envy springs up beneath him: and though he should leap over this one too, he will meet with the traps of wrath prepared for him: and that malicious one, who hunts for men's destruction, sets up six hundred other snares for men besides. Indeed he has bodily motions cooperating with the devices he has fabricated against the soul: but the mind which is watchful alone overcomes, repressing the malice of his devices by its inclination toward divine things.

Wherefore, since that admirable emperor was a partaker of human nature, he was not always free from those perturbations. But a certain excess of anger, joined to lawful anger, brought forth something cruel and unjust; of which indeed it shall now be told. For this brings not only reproach upon the admirable emperor, but also a commendation quite worthy of remembrance: above all, the noble freedom of Ambrose which followed thereupon, and the great fervor of spirit which he employed in matters pertaining to piety. Whatever it may be, the discourse will make it plain.

Thessalonica is a great city, and populous, assigned indeed to the Macedonians, but the capital of Thessaly and Achaia, as also of many other regions, as many as are subject to the prefect of Illyricum. When a sedition therefore arose there, certain magistrates were stoned, and dragged through the streets, and ended their life by a most shameful death. The king, therefore, inflamed by the messengers reporting what had happened, did not bear it with moderation: but pouring out all his wrath against all, and drawing unjust swords, slew the innocent along with the guilty, seven thousand indeed, as is recorded; since no judgment whatsoever had been rendered beforehand by him.

When the great Ambrose learned of this calamity, so much to be lamented, as the emperor was coming to Milan, and wishing to enter the temple of God according to custom, going to meet him from afar, he did not permit him to enter even the gates of the temple, saying: "You do not know, O emperor, as it seems, the magnitude of the wicked slaughter that has been committed: nor, after your own wrath has come to an end, have you understood by reason what a deed you dared to commit? For perhaps your imperial power does not allow you to recognize the crime, but authority set against reason takes away the light. Nevertheless nature itself must of necessity have knowledge of itself, both of that which is mortal and fleeting within it, and of that parent clay from which we were made and into which we are dissolved: nor, being bewitched by the flower of the purple, ought it to be ignorant of the infirmity of the body it covers.

You rule over subjects who are of the same nature as yourself, O king, indeed even over your fellow servants; for there is one Lord and King of all, namely the creator of all. With what eyes, then, will you look upon the temple of the common Lord, or with what feet will you tread this sacred pavement? How will you stretch forth hands still dripping with warm blood, or how with such hands will you receive the most holy body of the Lord, and bring also the precious blood to your mouth, since through the ungovernableness of your anger you have poured out so much blood against all law and right? Depart, therefore, and do not attempt to heap a second fault upon the first; and accept that bond which the God and Lord of all confirms from heaven by his own judgment. This will be for you a medicine and a bringer of health, unless perhaps you choose to suffer an incurable wound."

The emperor, obeying these words (for since he had been brought up from boyhood in the divine laws, he clearly knew what belonged to priests, and what to kings), pouring forth groans and tears together, withdrew into the palace. But when eight months had passed from this, the feast of the nativity of our Saviour came, and Theodosius, sitting in the palace, was weeping most bitterly. When a certain Rufinus, at that time master of the palace, perceived this, he approached him—being a man useful and familiar to his lord—and asked the cause. Then he, groaning bitterly, and streaming with warmer tears, said: "You indeed jest, Rufinus; for you do not feel my evils. But I groan and lament my own calamity, when I consider with myself that the divine temple is open even to servants and beggars, and that entrance there lies safe and free for them, that they may meet their own Lord: but to me this is forbidden, and moreover heaven itself is shut.

For I remember the word of the Lord, by which it is proclaimed: Whatsoever ye shall bind upon earth shall be bound also in heaven."

Rufinus, wishing to administer a remedy to the king, and to offer him timely benefit, said: "I will go, if it please you, and will persuade the bishop with many entreaties to absolve you from these bonds." "But he will not be persuaded," said the emperor; "for I know how just Ambrose's judgment is. Nor will he ever consent to transgress the divine law out of regard for imperial power." But afterward, when Rufinus had brought forward several other arguments, promising that he would without doubt obtain the matter from the great Ambrose, the emperor bade him depart as quickly as possible. He himself, however, enticed by hope, followed not long after, as one who put faith in Rufinus's promises. And immediately the divine Ambrose, addressing Rufinus, said that he imitated the shamelessness of dogs. For since he had been the author of so great a slaughter, and had cast aside all reverence toward God, he neither blushed nor feared, he who had exercised such fury against the divine image.

Ambrose said: "You imitate, Rufinus, the shamelessness of dogs; and you neither blush nor fear, though you have raged with such madness against the image of God?" When Rufinus replied, and said that the emperor would come after a short interval, the divine Ambrose, kindled with divine zeal, said: "I declare, O Rufinus, that I will prevent him from even treading the very vestibule of the temple; but if he should turn royal power into tyranny, I will gladly meet death."

Having heard this, Rufinus at once announced Ambrose's mind to the emperor through someone, and urged him to remain in the palace. But the emperor, who had already come to the middle of the forum, when he heard this, said: "I will proceed, and pay the penalties of my madness." But after he had come to the sacred enclosure, he had not entered the house of God, but had sat down in the reception hall, begging to be loosed from his bonds.

But he called his coming tyrannical, and declared that Theodosius raged against God, and trampled upon His laws. But the emperor, with contrition of heart and a spirit of humility, said: "I am not carried away by boldness against the laws, nor do I attempt to tread the sacred threshold against right and law: but I beseech you to release me from the bond of my chains, and, having set before your eyes the clemency of the common Lord, not to shut against me that door which the Lord Himself has opened to all who repent." "What sort of penitent, then," said the bishop, "have you shown yourself after so great a crime?

By what medicines have you brought together these wounds, so difficult to heal?" To this the emperor, again in a contrite spirit, replied: "It is altogether yours both to prescribe and to compound the remedies." Then indeed the divine Ambrose said: "Since you commit the judgment to your own anger, and it is not reason but the surge of the soul that pronounces the sentence, I would have you sanction a law of this kind, which renders any decree made in the impulse of anger idle and superfluous: let sentences of death or exile remain in writing for thirty days, awaiting the judgment of reason. And when the thirty days are past, let those who drew up those decrees produce them again: and let anger, having rested so long, itself judging with reason, weigh again the former judgment, and examine whether it be just or otherwise.

If then it finds it unjust, let it tear up the writing and render the sentence void; but if it be equitable, let it stand so; nor shall the number of thirty days undo what has been rightly judged."

The emperor, readily accepting this admonition, and persuading himself that it was well for him, at once ordered the law to be drawn up, and wished it to be made valid and firm by letters in his own hand. When this had thus been done, the divine Ambrose loosed the emperor's bond: and the emperor, taking courage to enter the temple, prayed to the Lord not standing, nor kneeling, but cast down and prostrate upon the bare ground, uttered that word of David: "My soul hath cleaved to the pavement: quicken thou me according to thy word". And tearing his hair with his hands, and beating his face, and watering the pavement with tears poured forth, he hastened to obtain pardon. But after the time came to call for the offering of the gifts of the sacred table, rising with tears no less abundant, he ascended the steps of the altar: and having presented the offering, he remained within the rails, as was his custom.

But the holy Ambrose by no means allowed himself to overlook this: rather he instructed him as to the distinction of places. And first he asked whether he sought anything. When the emperor answered that he awaited participation in the divine mysteries, employing the archdeacon as his minister, he declared plainly: "The inner places, O emperor, are not to be approached save by priests alone. Depart, therefore, and keep the same station with the other laymen; for purple makes kings, but by no means priests."

The most faithful Theodosius, taking this address likewise in good part, explained in reply that he had not remained within the rails out of rashness, but because he had learned this custom at Constantinople. Of such virtue did both emperor and bishop shine with light! Indeed I admire both, the one for his noble freedom, the other for his ready obedience: and the fervent zeal of the one, and the sincere faith of the other. Indeed, these things too which the emperor had learned at Milan under that admirable Ambrose, he observed on his return to Constantinople itself, and omitted none of them.

For indeed on a certain feast day, when he was again called into the temple of God, where he offered the gifts of the sacred table, he withdrew at once. And when the president of the church—who was then Nectarius—asked, "Why did you not remain within?" the emperor, taking it hard, said: "What difference there is between an emperor and a bishop, I have at last scarcely learned; since I have found with difficulty a teacher of truth, namely Ambrose, who alone is worthily called bishop." To such a degree does correction profit, when it proceeds from a man renowned for virtue.

There was another cause of benefit for the emperor. For indeed his own wife constantly admonished him of the divine law, in which she herself had diligently and carefully trained herself. Nor did the power of empire exalt her, but rather kindled in her the love of God; for the greatness of the benefit toward its own author excited a greater incentive of love. Wherefore, from the very beginning, she bore every kind of care for those afflicted with bodily blindness or with weakness of all their limbs, not employing the service of domestics or attendants, but applying her own hands to the work; and not disdaining to enter into their very huts, she supplied to each what was necessary. She also, going about and visiting the hospices of the churches, ministered to the sick, and gave them attendance and care, heating pots indeed, tasting the broth, bringing the dish, offering bread, rinsing cups, and performing all the other things which are reckoned the work of male and female servants.

And she was accustomed constantly to address her husband with these words: "It behooves you always, O husband, to consider in your mind both what you once were, and to what rank you have now come; for if you constantly reflect on these things with yourself, you will never prove ungrateful toward your benefactor: but you will administer the empire which you have received with equitable laws; by which reasoning also you will render the obedience due to him who bestowed it."

Since she always used words of this sort, which could furnish a fair watering and increase to the seeds of virtue in her husband, she herself died by fate before her husband. But it happened, some time after her death, that a certain thing occurred, whereby it became openly known with what mind, and with how great affection, the emperor was disposed toward her. For, the frequency of wars pressing upon him, the emperor, enduring a want of money, imposed tributes upon the cities. When therefore the city of Antioch saw other cities subjected to those tributes, and money being exacted by force, with no excuse admitted; not bearing this common tax, but seizing the occasion thence, from the tumults, as the common people are wont to do, they did this: they cast down to the ground the bronze statue of the most noble Placilla, for such was the empress's name, dragging it also through many streets of the city.

The Emperor, this matter having been reported to him, feeling from it as much vexation as was fitting, deprives that city of its own laws and fines it, and sets over it the neighboring city of Laodicea, which is situated near the sea-shore, having been persuaded chiefly to this course, that he might thereby inflict a grievous injury upon it; for Laodicea had for a long time been a rival of Antioch. Moreover he threatened that he would burn and destroy it, and would reduce it to the status of a mere village: and indeed the magistrates, certain persons having been seized in the very act of the crime, inflicted death upon them before the Prince learned of the tragedy. And all these things Theodosius indeed threatened, yet he did not straightway carry them out, being restrained by that law which the great Ambrosius had at his own urging caused to be enacted.

But after those who had been commanded to bear those threats came into the city of Antioch (the general at that time being Hellenichus, and Caesarius prefect of the praetorians, who among the Romans is called magister, an office he had attained), all were held in fear, dreading the outcome of the threats. But those athletes of virtue who dwelt at the foot of the mountains, of whom there was then a vast multitude, had compassion on those whom the threat struck down, and running about on every side, comforted, as far as was possible, those who had suffered punishment concerning the men who had been put to death.

Now one of these was a holy man, adorned with every virtue, who day and night offered pure prayers to the Savior of all. This man, fearing neither the emperor's wrath nor reckoning in his mind the power of those who had been sent, when he had come into the midst of the city, and had seized one of the legates by his cloak, commanded both to dismount from their horses. They, indeed, seeing a little old man, clothed moreover in a mean garment, were at first indignant. But afterward, when some of those who were following had made known the man's virtue, they at once leapt down from their horses, and embracing his knees, begged pardon. But the holy man, full of divine wisdom, addressed them with such words as these: Tell the emperor, dear heads: You are not only an emperor, but also a man: consider therefore not only your empire, but also your very nature; for since you are a man, you rule over those who share the same nature with you.

Now human nature has been wrought altogether after the image and likeness of God; wherefore do not so cruelly and savagely command that the image of God be slaughtered; for in doing so you provoke to wrath its Maker, while you take vengeance upon His likeness. Consider therefore how greatly moved you yourself are on account of a bronze figure, that you decree such things. But how much more excellent a living, breathing, rational image is than a lifeless one, is plain to all who are endowed with mind and sense. Moreover let him also consider this with himself, that it is indeed easy for us to cast many other bronze statues in place of that one: but for him it is altogether impossible to fashion even a single hair of those who have been slain.

Having heard these things, those admirable men reported to the emperor what had been said, and extinguished the flame of his wrath; so that in place of those threats he forthwith wrote his own excuse, and set forth the cause of his anger: For it was not fitting, he said, that, since I had offended, my wife—most worthy of all praise—should endure so great an insult after death: but those who had obeyed my will ought rather to have turned my anger against me. To this he further added, that he was distressed and grieved in mind that he had learned that certain persons had been put to death by the prefects. In this manner, then, the Christ-loving emperor, instructed by such precepts from the admirable Ambrosius, received from him so great grace and spiritual benefit.

Now this divine Ambrosius, shining in the Church, as has been said, with orthodox doctrines, having become a zealot and champion of the truth, since he had built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, and had set forth the words of right doctrine and discipline, having put to flight every heresy lately brought in by Arius and Apollinaris, and his Church being in all things most excellently established, having advanced into deep old age, and being full of days, rested in peace. He was buried in the Church of Milan, leaving behind him a true memorial of himself, namely his own life and right deeds: of which may he himself deign to grant that we too become imitators, and obtain with him the same rewards and crowns, by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be honor and power forever and ever, amen.