St. Ambrose.
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.’