ent fits of passion; and on
hearing what had been done, his anger knew no bounds. Ambrose, who was
afraid lest some serious mischief should follow, did all that he could
to soothe the emperor, and got a promise from him that the Thessalonians
should be spared. But some other advisers afterwards got about
Theodosius, and again inflamed his mind against the offenders, so that
he gave orders for a fearful act of cruel and treacherous vengeance. The
people of Thessalonica were invited in the emperor's name to some games
in the circus or amphitheatre, which was a building open to the sky, and
large enough to hold many thousands. And when they were all gathered
together in the place, instead of the amusement which had been promised
them, they were fallen on by soldiers, who for three hours carried on a
savage butchery; sparing neither old men, women, nor children, and
making no difference between innocent and guilty, Thessalonian or
stranger. Among those who had come to see the games there was a foreign
merchant, who had had no concern in the outrage of the mob, which was
punished in this frightful way. He had two sons with him, and he offered
his own life, with all that he had, if the soldiers would but spare one
of them. The soldiers were willing to agree to this, but the poor
father could not make up his mind which of the sons he should choose;
and the soldiers, who were too much enraged by their horrid work to make
any allowance for his feelings, stabbed both the youths before his eyes
at the same moment. The number of persons slain in the massacre is not
certain: there were at least as many as seven thousand, and some writers
say that there were fifteen thousand.

When Ambrose heard of this shocking affair, he was filled with grief and
horror; for he had relied on the emperor's promise to spare the
Thessalonians, and great care had been taken that he should not know
anything of the orders which had been afterwards sent off. He wrote a
letter to Theodosius, exhorting him to repent, and telling him that,
unless he did so, he could not be admitted to the holy Communion. This
letter brought the emperor to feel that he had done very wrongly; but
Ambrose wished to make him feel it far more. As Theodosius was about to
enter the cathedral, the bishop met him in the porch, and, laying hold
on his robe, desired him to withdraw, because he was a man stained with
innocent blood. The emperor said that he was deeply grieved for his
of