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.’