_Lat._ S. Ambrosius. _Ital._ Sant’ Ambrogio. _Fr._ St. Ambroise.
_Ger._ Der Heilige Ambrosius. Patron Saint of Milan. (April 4, A.D.
397.)
We can hardly imagine a greater contrast than between the stern,
enthusiastic, dreaming, ascetic Jerome, and the statesman-like,
practical, somewhat despotic AMBROSE. This extraordinary man, in
whose person the priestly character assumed an importance and dignity
till then unknown, was the son of a prefect of Gaul, bearing the same
name, and was born at Treves in the year 340. It is said that, when an
infant in the cradle, a swarm of bees alighted on his mouth, without
injuring him. The same story was told of Plato and of Archilochus, and
considered prophetic of future eloquence. It is from this circumstance
that St. Ambrose is represented with the bee-hive near him.
Young Ambrose, after pursuing his studies at Rome with success, was
appointed prefect of Æmilia and Liguria (Piedmont and Genoa), and took
up his residence at Milan. Shortly afterwards the Bishop of Milan
died, and the succession was hotly disputed between the Catholics and
the Arians. Ambrose appeared in his character of prefect, to allay
the tumult; he harangued the people with such persuasive eloquence
that they were hushed into respectful silence; and in the midst a
child’s voice was heard to exclaim, ‘Ambrose shall be bishop!’ The
multitude took up the cry as though it had been a voice from heaven,
and compelled him to assume the sacred office. He attempted to avoid
the honour thus laid upon him by flight, by entreaties,—pleading that,
though a professed Christian, he had never been baptized: in vain! the
command of the emperor enforced the wishes of the people; and Ambrose,
being baptized, was, within eight days afterwards, consecrated bishop
of Milan. He has since been regarded as the patron saint of that city.
He began by distributing all his worldly goods to the poor; he then
set himself to study the sacred writings, and to render himself in all
respects worthy of his high dignity. ‘The Old and the New Testament,’
says Mr. Milman, ‘met in the person of Ambrose: the implacable
hostility to idolatry, the abhorrence of every deviation from the
established formulary of belief;—the wise and courageous benevolence,
the generous and unselfish devotion to the great interests of humanity.’
He was memorable for the grandeur and magnificence with which he
invested the ceremonies of worship; they had never been so imposing. He
particularly cultivated music, and introduced from the East the manner
of chanting the service since called the Ambrosian chant.
* * * * *
Two things were especially remarkable in the life and character of
St. Ambrose. The first was the enthusiasm with which he advocated
celibacy in both sexes: on this topic, as we are assured, he was so
persuasive, that mothers shut up their daughters lest they should be
_seduced_ by their eloquent bishop into vows of chastity. The other
was his determination to set the ecclesiastical above the sovereign
or civil power: this principle, so abused in later times, was in the
days of Ambrose the assertion of the might of Christianity, of mercy,
of justice, of freedom, over heathenism, tyranny, cruelty, slavery.
The dignity with which he refused to hold any communication with the
Emperor Maximus, because he was stained with the blood of Gratian, and
his resolute opposition to the Empress Justina, who interfered with
his sacerdotal privileges, were two instances of this spirit. But the
most celebrated incident of his life is his conduct with regard to
the Emperor Theodosius, the last great emperor of Rome;—a man of an
iron will, a despot, and a warrior. That _he_ should bend in trembling
submission at the feet of an unarmed priest, and shrink before his
rebuke, filled the whole world with an awful idea of the supremacy of
the Church, and prepared the way for the Hildebrands, the Perettis, the
Caraffas of later times. With regard to St. Ambrose, this assumption
of moral power, this high prerogative of the priesthood, had hitherto
been without precedent, and in this its first application it certainly
commands our respect, our admiration, and our sympathy.
Theodosius, with all his great qualities, was subject to fits of
violent passion. A sedition, or rather a popular affray, had taken
place in Thessalonica; one of his officers was ill-treated, and some
lives lost. Theodosius, in the first moment of indignation, ordered an
indiscriminate massacre of the inhabitants, and seven thousand human
beings—men, women, and children—were sacrificed. The conduct of Ambrose
on this occasion was worthy of a Christian prelate: he retired from
the presence of the emperor, and wrote to him a letter, in which, in
the name of Christ, of his Church, and of all the bishops over whom he
had any influence, he denounced this inhuman act with the strongest
expressions of abhorrence, and refused to allow the sovereign, thus
stained with innocent blood, to participate in the sacraments of the
Church;—in fact, excommunicated him. In vain the emperor threatened,
supplicated; in vain he appeared with all his imperial state before the
doors of the cathedral of Milan, and commanded and entreated entrance.
The doors were closed; and even on Christmas-day, when he again as
a suppliant presented himself, Ambrose appeared at the porch, and
absolutely forbade his entrance, unless he should choose to pass into
the sanctuary over the dead body of the intrepid bishop. At length,
after eight months of interdict, Ambrose consented to relent, on two
conditions: the first, that the emperor should publish an edict by
which no capital punishment could be executed till thirty days after
conviction of a crime; the second, that he should perform a public
penance. The emperor submitted; and, clothed in sackcloth, grovelling
on the earth, with dust and ashes on his head, lay the master of the
world before the altar of Christ, because of innocent blood hastily
and wrongfully shed. This was a great triumph, and one of incalculable
results—some evil, some good.
Another incident in the life of St. Ambrose should be recorded to his
honour. In his time, ‘the first blood was judicially shed for religious
opinion’—and the first man who suffered for heresy was Priscilian,
a noble Spaniard: on this occasion, St. Ambrose and St. Martin of
Tours raised their protest in the name of Christianity against this
dreadful precedent; but the animosity of the Spanish bishops prevailed,
and Priscilian was put to death; so early were bigotry and cruelty
the characteristics of the Spanish hierarchy! Ambrose refused to
communicate with the few bishops who had countenanced this transaction:
the general voice of the Church was against it.
The man who had thus raised himself above all worldly power was endued
by popular enthusiasm with supernatural privileges: he performed cures;
he saw visions. At the time of the consecration of the new cathedral
at Milan, a miraculous dream revealed to him the martyrdom of two holy
men, Gervasius and Protasius, and the place where their bodies reposed.
The remains were disinterred, conveyed in solemn procession to the
cathedral, and deposited beneath the high altar; and St. Gervasius and
St. Protasius became, on the faith of a dream, distinguished saints in
the Roman calendar. Ambrose died at Milan, in 397, in the attitude and
the act of prayer.
* * * * *
There were many poetical legends and apologues relating to St. Ambrose
current in the middle ages.
It is related that an obstinate heretic who went to hear him preach,
only to confute and mock him, beheld an angel visible at his side, and
prompting the words he uttered; on seeing which, the scoffer was of
course converted; a subject represented in his church at Milan.
One day, Ambrose went to the prefect Macedonius, to entreat favour for
a poor condemned wretch; but the doors were shut against him, and he
was refused access. Then he said, ‘Thou, even thou, shalt fly to the
church for refuge, and shalt not enter!’ and a short time afterwards,
Macedonius, being pursued by his enemies, fled for sanctuary to the
church; but, though the doors were wide open, he could not find the
entrance, but wandered around in blind perplexity till he was slain. Of
this incident I have seen no picture.
On another occasion, St. Ambrose, coming to the house of a nobleman of
Tuscany, was hospitably received; and he inquired concerning the state
of his host: the nobleman replied, ‘I have never known adversity; every
day hath seen me increasing in fortune, in honours, in possessions. I
have a numerous family of sons and daughters, who have never cost me a
pang of sorrow; I have a multitude of slaves, to whom my word is law;
and I have never suffered either sickness or pain.’ Then Ambrose rose
hastily from table, and said to his companions, ‘Arise! fly from this
roof, ere it fall upon us; for the Lord is not here!’ and scarcely had
he left the house, when an earthquake shook the ground, and swallowed
up the palace with all its inhabitants. I have seen this story in a
miniature, but cannot at this moment refer to it.
St. Ambrose falls asleep, or into a trance, while celebrating mass, and
sees in the spirit the obsequies of St. Martin of Tours: the sacristan
strikes him on the shoulder to wake him. This is the subject of a very
old mosaic in his church at Milan.
When St. Ambrose was on his death-bed, Christ visited him and comforted
him; Honorat, bishop of Vercelli, was then in attendance on him, and
having gone to sleep, an angel waked him, saying, ‘Arise, for he
departs in this hour;’ and Honorat was just in time to administer the
sacrament and see him expire. Others who were present beheld him ascend
to heaven, borne in the arms of angels.
* * * * *
Devotional pictures of St. Ambrose alone as patron saint do not often
occur. In general he wears the episcopal pallium with the mitre and
crosier as bishop: the bee-hive is sometimes placed at his feet; but a
more frequent attribute is the knotted scourge with three thongs. The
scourge is a received emblem of the castigation of sin: in the hand
of St. Ambrose it may signify the penance inflicted on the Emperor
Theodosius; or, as others interpret it, the expulsion of the Arians
from Italy, and the triumph of the Trinitarians. It has always this
meaning, we may presume, when the scourge has three knots, or three
thongs. I have seen figures of St. Ambrose holding two human bones in
his hand. When this attribute occurs (as in a picture by _Vivarini_,
_Venice Acad._), it alludes to the discovery of the relics of Gervasius
and Protasius.
Among the few representations of St. Ambrose as patron saint, the
finest beyond all comparison is that which adorns his chapel in the
Frari at Venice, painted conjointly by B. Vivarini and Basaiti (A.D.
1498). He is seated on a throne, raised on several steps, attired in
his episcopal robes and mitre, and bearing the triple scourge in his
hand. He has a short grey beard, and looks straight out of the picture
with an expression of stern power;—nothing here of the benignity and
humility of the Christian teacher! Around his throne stands a glorious
company of saints: on the right, St. George in complete armour; St.
John the Baptist; a young saint, bearing a sword and palm, with long
hair, and the most beautiful expression of mild serene faith, whom I
suppose to be St. Theodore; St. Sebastian; and another figure behind,
part of the head only seen. On the left, St. Maurice, armed; the three
Doctors, St. Gregory, St. Augustine, St. Jerome, and two other saints
partly seen behind, whose personality is doubtful. All these wait round
St. Ambrose, as guards and counsellors round a sovereign; two lovely
little angels sit on the lower step of the throne hymning his praise.
The whole picture is wonderful for colour, depth, and expression, and
shows to what a pitch of excellence the Vivarini family had attained in
these characteristics of the Venetian school, long before it had become
a school.
Most of the single figures of St. Ambrose represent him in his most
popular character, that of the stern adversary of the Arians. I
remember (in the Frari at Venice) a picture in which St. Ambrose in
his episcopal robes is mounted on a white charger, and flourishing on
high his triple scourge. The Arians are trampled under his feet, or fly
before him. I have seen an old print, in which he is represented with
a short grey beard, stern countenance, and wearing the bishop’s mitre:
underneath is the inscription ‘_Antiquis ejus imaginibus Mediolani olim
depictis ad vivum expressa_;’ but it seems certain that no authentic
portrait of him exists.
His church at Milan, the Basilica of Sant’ Ambrogio Maggiore, one of
the oldest and most interesting churches in Christendom, was founded
by him in 387, and dedicated to all the Saints. Though rebuilt in
the ninth century and restored in the seventeenth, it still retains
the form of the primitive Christian churches (like some of those at
Rome and Ravenna), and the doors of cypress wood are traditionally
regarded as the very doors which St. Ambrose closed against the
Emperor Theodosius, brought hither from the ancient cathedral. Within
this venerable and solemn old church may be seen one of the most
extraordinary and best-preserved specimens of Mediæval Art: it is the
golden shrine or covering of the high altar, much older than the famous
_pala d’ oro_ at Venice; and the work, or at least the design, of one
man:[269] whereas the _pala_ is the work of several different artists
at different periods. On the front of the altar, which is all of plates
of gold, enamelled and set with precious stones, are represented in
relief scenes from the life of our Saviour: on the sides, which are of
silver-gilt, angels, archangels, and medallions of Milanese saints. On
the back, also of silver-gilt, we have the whole life of St. Ambrose,
in a series of small compartments, most curious and important as a
record of costume and manners, as well as an example of the state of
Art at that time. I have never seen any engraving of this monument, but
I examined it carefully. In the centre stand the Archangels Michael and
Gabriel, in the Byzantine style; and below them, St. Ambrose blesses
the donor, Bishop Angelbertus, and the goldsmith Wolvinus. Around, in
twelve compartments, we have the principal incidents of the life of St.
Ambrose, the figures being, as nearly as I can recollect, about six
inches high.
1. Bees swarm round his head as he lies in his cradle. 2. He is
appointed prefect of the Ligurian provinces. 3. He is elected Bishop
of Milan in 375. 4. He is baptized. 5. He is ordained. 6. and 7. He
sleeps, and beholds in a vision the obsequies of St. Martin of Tours.
8. He preaches in the cathedral, inspired by angels. 9. He heals the
sick and lame. 10. He is visited by Christ. 11. An angel wakes the
bishop of Vercelli, and sends him to St. Ambrose. 12. Ambrose dies, and
angels bear away his soul to heaven.
I was surprised not to find in his church what we consider as the
principal event of his life—his magnanimous resistance to the Emperor
Theodosius. In fact, the grand scene between Ambrose and Theodosius
has never been so popular as it deserves to be: considered merely as a
subject of painting, it is full of splendid picturesque capabilities;
for grouping, colour, contrast, background, all that could be desired.
In the great picture by Rubens,[270] the scene is the porch of the
church. On the left the emperor, surrounded by his guards, stands
irresolute, and in a supplicatory attitude, on the steps; on the right
and above, St. Ambrose is seen, attended by the ministering priests,
and stretches out his hand to repel the intruder. There is a print,
after Andrea del Sarto, representing Theodosius on his knees before the
relenting prelate. In the Louvre is a small picture, by Subleyras, of
the reconciliation of Ambrose and Theodosius. In our National Gallery
is a small and beautiful copy, by Vandyck, of the great picture by
Rubens.
As joint patrons of Milan, St. Ambrose and St. Carlo Borromeo are
sometimes represented together, but only in late pictures.
There is a statue of St. Ambrose, by Falconet,[271] in the act of
repelling Theodosius, which is mentioned by Diderot, with a commentary
so characteristic of the French anti-religious feeling of that time,—a
feeling as narrow and one-sided in its way as the most bigoted
puritanism,—that I am tempted to extract it; only premising, that if,
after the slaughter at Ismaël, Catherine of Russia had been placed
under the ban of Christendom, the world would not have been the worse
for such an exertion of the priestly power.
C’est ce fougneux évêque qui osa fermer les portes de l’église a
Théodose, et à qui un certain souverain de par le monde [Frederic of
Prussia] qui dans la guerre passée avoit une si bonne envie de faire
un tour dans la rue des prêtres, et une certaine souveraine [Catherine
of Russia] qui vient de débarrasser son clergé de toute cette richesse
inutile qui l’empêchoit d’être respectable, auroient fait couper la
barbe et les oreilles, en lui disant: ‘Apprenez, monsieur l’abbé, que
le temple de votre Dieu est sur mon domain, et que si mon prédécesseur
vous a accordé par grâce les trois arpens de terrain qu’il occupe,
je puis les reprendre et vous envoyer porter vos autels et votre
fanatisme ailleurs. Ce lieu-ci est la maison du Père commun des
hommes, bons ou méchans, et je veux entrer quand il me plaira. Je ne
m’accuse point à vous; quand je daignerois vous consulter, vous n’en
savez pas assez pour me conseiller sur ma conduite, et de quel front
vous immiscez-veus d’en juger?’ Mais le plat empereur ne parla pas
ainsi, et l’évêque savoit bien à qui il avoit à faire. Le statuaire
nous l’a montré dans le moment de son insolent apostrophe.’
In Diderot’s criticisms on Art, which are often quoted even now,
there is in general a far better taste than prevailed in his time,
and much good sense; but a low tone of sentiment when he had to deal
with imaginative or religious Art, and an intolerable coarseness—‘most
mischievous foul sin in chiding sin.’