is only
by prayer that I am strong."

Again the furious empress--baffled, not conquered--ordered the soldiers
to seize the person of Ambrose in his church. But they were
terror-stricken. Seize the minister at the altar of Omnipotence! It was
not to be thought of. They refused to obey. They sent word to the
imperial palace that they would only take possession of the church on
the sole condition that the emperor (who was controlled by his mother)
should abandon Arianism. How angry must have been the Court! Soldiers
not only disobedient, but audaciously dictating in matters of religion!
But this treason on the part of the defenders of the throne was a very
serious matter. The Court now became alarmed in its turn. And this alarm
was increased when the officers of the palace sided with the bishop. "I
perceive," said the crestfallen and defeated monarch, and in words of
bitterness, "that I am only the shadow of an emperor, to whom you dare
dictate my religious belief."

Valentinian was at last aroused to a sense of his danger. He might be
dragged from his throne and assassinated. He saw that his throne was
undermined by a priest, who used only these simple words, "It is my duty
to obey God rather than man." A rebellious mob, an indignant court, a
superstitious soldiery, and angry factions compelled him to recall his
guards. It was a great triumph for the archbishop. Face to face he had
defeated the emperor. The temporal power had yielded to the spiritual.
Six hundred years before Henry IV. stooped to beg the favor and
forgiveness of Hildebrand, at the fortress of Canossa, the State had
conceded the supremacy of the Church in the person of the
fearless Ambrose.

Not only was Ambrose an intrepid champion of the Church and the orthodox
faith, but he was often sent, in critical crises, as an ambassador to
the barbaric courts. Such was the force and dignity of his personal
character. This is one of the first examples on record of a priest
being employed by kings in the difficult art of negotiation in State
matters; but it became very common in the Middle Ages for prelates and
abbots to be ambassadors of princes, since they were not only the most
powerful but most intelligent and learned personages of their times.
They had, moreover, the most tact and the most agreeable manners.

When Maximus revolted against the feeble Gratian (emperor of the West),
subdued his forces, took his life, and established himself in Gaul,
Spain, an