Panegryic and hagiography

The flavour of Ambrose's funeral sermons is radically different from that of classical imperial panegyric. Pagan panegyrics were delivered to and about living emperors, whereas these were preached over the corpses of emperors. Panegyric could offer an emperor a flattering portrait of the perfect prince, but Ambrose's sermons, dealing with the more discrete matter of a finished life, offered advice both to imperial successors, and, more generally, to all Christians seeking to lead a pious life. Panegyric in its pagan and immediately post-Constantinian Christian versions is remarkably continuous in style and content – we can see little immediate Christianisation of the genre. This is partly a result of the conservatism of the Gallic rhetorical schools, from which the authors of many of the Panegyrici latini sprang.Footnote ¹ These panegyrics on pagan and Christian emperors were frequently delivered in ceremonial contexts which demanded an old-style Roman and pagan eulogy of their subject, and to audiences (such as the senate) which were not very receptive to Christianity. The first Christian biographical sketch of an emperor which adopts panegyrical themes and models is Eusebius' post-mortem portrait of Constantine, and it is in such quasi-hagiography that we should perhaps seek the Christian heir to panegyric.

Eusebius' Life of Constantine does not deify its subject, as once was possible in pagan panegyric, but presents the emperor as receiving his imperial status directly from God.Footnote ² Constantine may not be divine, but he is presented as the perfect Christian, the companion of saints, styled in burial the ‘thirteenth apostle’; his godly life is an example for all men.Footnote ³ Eusebius emphasises the pomp and majesty of the emperor's earthly life, and presents him as enjoying imperial honours and indeed sway beyond his death. His imperial sort of immortality is shown to be very different from that of one of his Christian subjects, even if the possibility of an afterlife is universal: ‘No mortal had ever, like this blessed prince, continued to reign even after death … God Himself … was pleased that even his mortal remains should still retain imperial authority among men; thus indicating to all who were not utterly devoid of understanding the immortal and endless empire which his soul was destined to enjoy.’Footnote ⁴

Ambrose's treatment of emperors, in life and death, differs greatly from this model. The emperor, although also transformed into a ruler by the grace of God, is now more explicitly subject to divine law. Emperors are, like other men, God's subjects and slaves; hence Ambrose commends Theodosius to God as ‘your servant’,Footnote ⁵ and describes Valentinian as servulum, a diminutive of servant.Footnote ⁶ The emperor is also shown to be as fallible as his subjects; indeed, his position exposes him to greater temptations to sin.Footnote ⁷ Ambrose stresses to Theodosius, in works addressed to him while alive, that he is human.Footnote ⁸ After Valentinian's death, Ambrose informs his congregation that the emperor is no different from them, a potent political and spiritual message of equality before God and in the face of death: ‘Therefore, you have no reason for grieving excessively over your brother. He was born a man, he was subject to human frailty. No one redeems himself from death, neither the rich man, nor even kings.’Footnote ⁹

Ambrose may level emperors by applying to them the general terminology of brotherhood and mankind but he does not consummate this in political vocabulary; he does not equate emperor with citizen (‘privatus’). Emperors were still politically exalted. Ambrose contrasts emperor and ‘privatus’ in legal terms when discussing Theodosius in his funeral sermon: ‘if the last wishes of citizens of private citizens have permanent stability, even though testaments are lacking, how can the will of so great a prince be disregarded?’Footnote ¹⁰ This is followed up with another legal example: ‘For if among the children of private citizens the rights of minors are not violated without grave crime, how much the more in the case of the children of an emperor.’Footnote ¹¹ Ambrose clearly distinguishes emperors from private men, as having a more exalted status.Footnote ¹² Thus Theodosius' public performance of penance was to be honoured precisely because he showed his humility in shunning the privileges of power.

Laudatio funebris and consolatio

Ambrose's sermons should also be viewed in the tradition of Roman funerary literature. The laudatio funebris was an oration preached over the corpse of a Roman noble or emperor on the rostra in the forum.Footnote ¹³ It had a clear political dynamic as the speaker, often a relative of the deceased or a successor, had his own political interests linked very closely to his assertion of the perfection and virtues of his subject. But Ambrose's funeral addresses were part of Christian funeral/memorial services held in a church, and presided over by the bishop, not the family;Footnote ¹⁴ as bishop and imperial friend, rather than family or successor, he could afford to assume a more critical stance towards his subjects. Ambrose enhanced his spiritual, as well as his political capital by presenting his relationship with these two emperors in the vocabulary of love and friendship; he becomes not just an equal to them, but even a superior.Footnote ¹⁵

The imperial funeral sermons (as well as that preached on the death of his brother Satyrus)Footnote ¹⁶ also show Ambrose's familiarity with the theory and themes of pagan consolatio. He states explicitly that his sermons are intended to console his congregation, and even himself,Footnote ¹⁷ and addresses directly the grieving and weeping which surrounded him.Footnote ¹⁸ Consolation is expressed, however, in biblical terms: Ambrose's lament for Valentinian is shaped by phrases from Lamentations i–iii. Ambrose's consolatio also has a different dynamic to that of pagan tradition. Death is no longer the end, but may be the beginning of a new and better life, in which sense it is not merely to be borne with equanimity, but should be welcomed and even sought. He compares the pagans, ‘who have no hope of resurrection’ and whose consolation is that ‘after death the departed have no consciousness and because of this no sense of pain remains’, with Christians, who should receive much greater consolation ‘because death is not to be feared, since it is the end of sin, and because life is not to be despaired of which is restored by the resurrection’.Footnote ¹⁹ Ambrose does not just console those grieving for these emperors, even if much of his oration on Valentinian seems to be aimed at consoling Valentinian's sisters.Footnote ²⁰ Rather, he gives hope to all Christians by preaching ‘a true land of the living where “this mortal shall put on immortality and this corruptible shall put on incorruption”’.Footnote ²¹ Ambrose's Christian consolation therefore seeks to strengthen his congregation's faith by iterating the major promise of Christianity – a universally available immortality. This is in sharp contrast to the exclusively imperial paradise which Eusebius had presented Constantine as enjoying.

Sermons

Ambrose preached regularly in Milan, for one of the principal functions of a bishop, bestowed as a gift at ordination, was expounding Scripture.Footnote ²² Ambrose preached every Sunday,Footnote ²³ and more frequently during periods like Advent and Lent, to an ordinarily small, stable civilian congregation.Footnote ²⁴ As Milan was an imperial capital, however, his flock occasionally included emperors and their military and civil entourages, and Ambrose was not fazed by this, on occasion using the pulpit to preach at emperors.Footnote ²⁵ It would certainly have been no novelty for Ambrose to preach in the presence of an imperial successor, or of the imperial family.Footnote ²⁶

For much of Ambrose's congregation, listening to a sermon would have been one of the primary ways they encountered the Bible. In its early Christian form the sermon was an exposition and interpretation of the biblical readings which preceded the celebration of mass, although this came to embrace wider themes of morality and behaviour.Footnote ²⁷ Ambrose's favoured method of exposition was allegorical exegesis, which enabled him to link mundane and ultra-mundane themes.Footnote ²⁸ This exercise was essentially literary, interpreting scriptural texts without regard for their particular historical contexts. Ambrose was also interested in typology, whereby one event, either biblical or contemporary, is said to be the fulfilment of another biblical event.Footnote ²⁹ Typological exegesis allowed the bishop to present current events as fulfilling or reflecting biblical events, and Ambrose preached many of his most politically pertinent sermons on the basis of biblical texts read in the service.Footnote ³⁰

It was routine for a bishop to preach on the (pre-ordained) lessons of the day extempore, and so off-the-cuff references to the immediate circumstances of preaching abound in late antique sermons. However, claims to spontaneity are sometimes belied by the highly polished style of the sermons themselves, indicating that they have been revised for ‘publication’.Footnote ³¹ The spontaneity of many of Ambrose's sermons has certainly been removed in their rigorous revision for publication, where other of his works contain indications of the contingency of their composition.Footnote ³² The funeral sermons on Valentinian and Theodosius do refer to the occasion and circumstances of their preaching, but none the less it appears that they were tidied up and expanded after delivery.Footnote ³³

Sermons were, then, ordinarily text-based, and circumstances often determined the particular exposition of these texts. Nor did the celebrant have control over the selection of scriptural readings, for a lectionary, which determined a cycle of readings for the liturgical year, appears to have been used in Milan in this period.Footnote ³⁴ Persuasive evidence for the lectionary is found in Ambrose's frequent exclamations in his sermons, or in texts that were homiletic in origin, that the text set for a particular day has ‘by chance’ provided him with pertinent biblical lessons for his preaching.Footnote ³⁵

Ambrose's funeral sermons are an interesting variation on this procedure, not being bound by the convention of expounding the prescribed lessons for an everyday congregation. Ambrose appears to have chosen lessons for the services which were appropriate for the individual emperors, rather than use those set for the day by the lectionary.Footnote ³⁶ The two services use a different body of readings, although they share some texts such as Lamentations. None the less, although Ambrose has been freed from the lectionary, he still uses the standard homiletic exegetical approach as the framework for these orations, which both focus on certain scriptural texts. Thus the lengthy exegesis of Psalm cxiv in the sermon on Theodosius is explained by the comment ‘While this psalm was being read’Footnote ³⁷: Ambrose has used one of the service's lessons to shape his sermon. In the same sermon, Ambrose refers to the correspondence of the mourning rituals currently being observed with those ‘which the lesson [Genesis: 2–3] prescribes’.Footnote ³⁸Lectio here implies that the passage from Genesis was a lesson read earlier in the service.

Funerals

The orations preached over the bodies of Theodosius and Valentinian by Ambrose were part of rather different ceremonies. The occasion for the De obitu Valentiniani was the actual, long-delayed interment of Valentinian at Milan, some two months after his death. The delay in burial was a result of the confused circumstances of Valentinian's death and the political machinations of succession. Ambrose reveals in a letter to Theodosius that he had been waiting for his permission to bury Valentinian:

The delay was as socially objectionable as it was politically significant, for considerations of respect and hygiene meant burial was effected as soon as possible after death in the Roman world.Footnote ⁴⁰ The fact that Valentinian's corpse was left unburied for a long period means that it was in an advanced state of decay.Footnote ⁴¹ Theodosius' delay in authorising Valentinian's funeral also shows a lack of respect for the corpse of his colleague, with whom he had had troubled relations. By contrast, the service held for Theodosius took place on the fortieth day after his death, and was held in Milan before the departure of the funeral cortège for the long journey to Constantinople, where the emperor was to be buried. This service was therefore a memorial service, not a funeral service and committal.

Christian ceremonial placed Ambrose the bishop centre stage in these services. Although they were far from a pagan apotheosis, the destiny of the imperial soul was still partly controlled by earthly ceremonial. The celebrant at a Christian funeral was responsible for leading intercessions for the dead, creating the impression that the living had some power to affect the eventual fate of the dead. Thus Ambrose intones: ‘Thou Lord, keeper also of little ones in this lowliness, “save those hoping in Thee.” Give perfect rest to thy servant Theodosius, that rest which thou hast prepared for thy saints.’Footnote ⁴²

Ambrose presents himself as the guarantor of Valentinian, saying that ‘Christ heard me state that I was a surety on his behalf. My consent is binding in heaven, even though it is not binding on earth.’Footnote ⁴³ He also presents himself as Theodosius' sponsor: ‘I have loved and so I will accompany him to the land of the living, and I will not abandon him, until, by my tears and prayers, I shall lead the man whither his merits summon, unto the holy mountain of God.’Footnote ⁴⁴ Ambrose, then, describes and thereby prescribes rather different post-mortem destinies for Theodosius and Valentinian, one of his prerogatives as preacher being precisely to have the ‘last word’ on such matters, and one of whose powers as God's priest was that of binding and loosing.

As well as preaching and leading prayer in these services, Ambrose also celebrated the mass, to which he refers in his oration on Valentinian: ‘Offer the holy mysteries with your hands … Offer the heavenly sacraments, let us accompany the soul of our son with our oblations.’Footnote ⁴⁵ His reference to Honorius' ‘assisting at the altar’ also suggests that a mass was said at Theodosius' funeral.Footnote ⁴⁶ The fact that both services incorporated a mass is theologically suggestive in various ways. The decaying corpses of the emperors would have formed a great aesthetic contrast to the more subtle, but none the less real, presence of Christ in the consecrated elements, a belief to which Ambrose subscribed: ‘It is the true flesh of Christ which was crucified and buried, this is then truly the sacrament of His body. The Lord Jesus himself proclaims: “This is my body”. Before the blessing of the heavenly words another nature is spoken of, after the consecration, the body is signified.’Footnote ⁴⁷

Both funeral sermons exploit the poignant and paradoxical contrast between the extinction of the emperors' (prominently displayed, albeit entombed) natural bodies and the immortality of their souls. The death and decay of these emperors' mortal bodies is not their final end, since Christian doctrine promises the resurrection of the body on the Last Day.Footnote ⁴⁸ Ambrose also presents the progress of the emperors' souls to paradise in vivid physical terms, borrowing imagery from the Song of Songs. The contrast between life and death in these texts is not, then, as clear-cut as it would first appear.

If the presence of the imperial corpse was pointed in such a service, its coexistence with an imperial successor created a situation of great political vulnerability, for succession was rarely a cut-and-dried affair. The performance of the funeral was crucial in ensuring the smooth transition to the rule of a new emperor, and a new emperor could not take his place until the corpse of his predecessor had been put to rest. Pagan Roman practice had developed a ceremonial for apotheosising the dead emperor, which reserved a central role for his successor, allowing him to put his predecessor to rest and thereby assume power.Footnote ⁴⁹ Ambrose's funeral sermons, although stopping well short of apotheosis, contain clearly political injunctions for the succession to be a peaceful process. In the De obitu Theodosii the armies are exhorted to keep faith with Theodosius' young heir Honorius.Footnote ⁵⁰ The sermon also serves as a sort of ‘mirror for princes’ for Honorius who is playing a prominent part in the service.Footnote ⁵¹

‘Relative’ merits

Honorius' presence at his father's funeral was a living reminder of the imperial succession. In pagan panegyric, the benchmark of an emperor's virtue is frequently taken to be the record set by his father (if he is of direct imperial stock), although it is also a commonplace to state that the present emperor had indeed exceeded the standards set by his father. References to fathers also serve a political function by recalling that the dead emperor, and maybe even his heir, was a legitimate blood-heir.Footnote ⁵² In Ambrose's sermons the emperors meet their fathers in heaven: ‘[Valentinian's] father also is present [in heaven] … Give to the father his son, to the brother his brother, both of whom he imitated … What had been lacking in his father, he added’.Footnote ⁵³ And: ‘[Theodosius] rejoices that his father has been restored to him.’Footnote ⁵⁴

Ambrose's references to paternal influence are, however, fleeting compared to those supplied by old rhetorical models, where a subject of a panegyric was usually first praised for his ancestors, and then for his own merits. In the Christian universe, each soul is now weighed on its own merits, and illustrious ancestry is no guarantee of salvation. Furthermore, even a good father is not as reliable or as perfected a standard of virtue as Christ, and God (not the emperor) is the new universal father-figure. In Ambrose's oration on Theodosius, the emphasis on literal paternity is also forward-looking. He makes several pointed references to Honorius, heir to the throne, who is present in the congregation, and stresses the legitimacy of his succession to Theodosius: ‘Finally then, your father made you emperor. God has confirmed this, so that you might not do military service for your father alone, but that you might have command over all.’Footnote ⁵⁵ Here we glimpse Ambrose's concern for the political, for securing the succession, and hence peace.

A striking adaptation of the theme of illustrious family can be found in the appearance in both sermons of the dead emperor Gratian, half-brother of Valentinian and colleague of Theodosius, murdered in 383. He is introduced as a sponsor to ValentinianFootnote ⁵⁶ and a friend to Theodosius.Footnote ⁵⁷ Ambrose describes the heavenly encounter between Gratian and Valentinian in phrases which recall David's lament for Saul and Jonathan, thus transforming the biblical relationship of father and son into that of brother and brother.Footnote ⁵⁸ Ambrose's own stance towards both is, fittingly for a bishop, that of a father; he addresses both as ‘son’, and describes how Valentinian loved him not only as a parent, but also as a redeemer and liberator.Footnote ⁵⁹ The introduction of Gratian into the sermon serves to yoke the unbaptised Valentinian with his pious half-brother, and thereby to secure both Valentinian's earthly reputation and his heavenly destiny.

A similar transformation of biblical kinship is found in Ambrose's deployment of the Song of Songs; he puts into Gratian's mouth verses which were originally the address of a lover to his beloved, but which become expressions of brotherly love and solidarity. What was the call ‘Come, my beloved’, becomes ‘Come, my brother’.Footnote ⁶⁰ Such a stretching of biblical relationships is perfectly possible in the allegorical world; the erotic love of the Song of Songs had long been allegorised to describe more chaste relationships such as that between Christ and the Church, and between Christ and the believer.Footnote ⁶¹

The beauty of virtue

Another trope of pagan panegyric was the praise of physical beauty. Menander Rhetor says that beauty deserved a mention in any panegyric's catalogue of virtues and accomplishments.Footnote ⁶² Beauty could indicate the divine aspect of an individual; Constantine's pagan panegyrist claimed that

Constantius' appearance was said to manifest his virtues: ‘[Britons] saw the stamp of every virtue on your face, O Caesar; on your brow, dignity; in your eyes, gentleness; in your blush, modesty; in your speech, justice.’Footnote ⁶⁴ Ambrose also connects physical beauty with particular virtues in his description of Valentinian in extravagant erotic language, alluding to descriptions in the Song of Songs of the lover's body: ‘“His lips are as dripping lilies, full of myrrh. His hands are turned and as full of gold as Tharsis”, because in his words justice shone forth, and in his works and deeds grace was resplendent.’Footnote ⁶⁵ Here, as in the pagan panegyric of Constantius, there is a connection between the particular parts of the body enumerated, and the virtue celebrated. Thus lips express justice, and hands make works and deeds.

The surprising use of erotic language in Christian ascetic literature has been well studied,Footnote ⁶⁶ but the frequency with which bishops use the Song of Songs in their sermons should also be noted. Indeed, Augustine relates precisely of the Song of Songs how ‘it is much more pleasant to learn lessons presented through imagery, and much more rewarding to discover meanings that are only won with difficulty’.Footnote ⁶⁷ In his funeral sermon on Valentinian, Ambrose lives up to his reputation for treating Scripture allegorically, and particularly for following Origen in his interpretation of the relationship between Solomon and the Shulamite as an allegory of the relationships between Christ and his Church, and Christ and the Christian soul.

He initially evokes the Shulamite as the Church mourning Valentinian, but later addresses Valentinian as if he, Ambrose, were the Shulamite, and Valentinian's corpse, Solomon and ‘the image of Christ’.Footnote ⁶⁸ This change in perspective, from the Church's mourning to Ambrose's lament, reflects the sermon's gradual narrowing of focus to the personal relationship between Ambrose the bishop and Valentinian, his unhappy spiritual son. In paragraphs 58–63, Ambrose describes Valentinian's body in the terms in which the Shulamite describes Solomon. This is not a straightforward physical description, but rather an allegorisation of Valentinian's virtues into physical beauty; where pagan writers had presented beauty as a positive quality in itself, virtue is now personified as beauty, ‘to his soul God the Word says: “How beautiful and sweet thou art become, my love, in thy delights!” Beautiful through the glory of virtue, sweet through grace, tall like a palm, which is the prize of the victor’.Footnote ⁶⁹ Indeed, Ambrose was addressing a two-month old corpse, whose belly would hardly have been like ‘an ivory casket’, nor his lips as ‘dripping lilies, full of myrrh’.Footnote ⁷⁰

At paragraph 64 Ambrose moves from identifying Valentinian with Solomon to identifying him with the Shulamite. This exegetical twist is explained by the change in focus from the virtues of Valentinian's body to those of his soul: ‘I have spoken of your body. Now I shall address your soul [animam tuam], which is worthy of the adornments of the prophet. I shall use, therefore, the Prophet's exordium: “Who is she that looketh forth at dawn, fair as the moon, bright as sun?”’Footnote ⁷¹ The fact that the word for soul, ‘anima’, is feminine, allows Ambrose to address Valentinian in the feminine. Where in earlier works like De Isaac Ambrose concentrated on the interpretation of the Shulamite as Church and soul, there is here a different, constantly shifting, exegesis of the Song of Songs, in which he presents Valentinian both as Shulamite and as Solomon, a paragon of kingship.

Ambrose's presentation of Valentinian's decaying corpse in terms of the Song of Songs vigorously associates the moral virtues with physical perfection, and this taps into early Christian ideas of saintliness. In Athanasius’ Life of Antony, one of the most popular hagiographies of late antiquity, there is just such a correspondence between virtue and physical strength. Athanasius describes Antony's startlingly good physical state after a period of prolonged ascetic self-denial:

This passage has been used by Peter Brown to argue that ascetic practice was designed to ‘clarify’ the body – to return the human, body and soul, to its natural, original state – to the ‘taut body’ of Adam.Footnote ⁷³ Another sure sign of a man's holiness was if his corpse were immune to decay; indeed, incorruption came to be a criterion by which to judge saintliness.Footnote ⁷⁴ Ambrose thus subtly evokes the hagiographic topos that a saintly man's inner virtues are manifested in the perfection of his body, in life and after death.

Virtue and its reward

The catalogue of virtues was a structuring device of pagan panegyric. Ambrose does not use it as such, but he does refer to the virtues of Valentinian and Theodosius. He is both laudatory – these emperors were set apart from their contemporaries – and sternly undercutting – yet they were humble, and their humility serves as a lesson for all Christians. The lesson is clear; if an emperor can be humble, how much the more should an ordinary Christian seek humility.

Ambrose describes the separation of these emperors from the masses in physical and moral terms, presenting Theodosius thus: ‘For he who has borne the heavy yoke from youth rests afterward. Apart from the throng, he possesses the distinguished place of his rest, saying “Since Thou O Lord hast singularly settled me in hope.”’Footnote ⁷⁵ Valentinian's specialness and separateness is also emphasised:

In both orations Ambrose alludes to passages from Lamentations, and particularly Lamentations iii.28 when he refers to Valentinian and Theodosius in the phrase ‘he shall sit alone [sedebit singulariter]’.

Ambrose may idealise Valentinian and Theodosius into morally and politically superior beings, but this ideal is subdued by his emphasis on the subjection to God of the exalted of this world. The recurrent image of the ‘Divine yoke’, another phrase from Lamentations (iii.27), epitomises this ideal of subjection:

Similarly: ‘Theodosius bore the heavy yoke from youth, since those who killed his father, the conqueror, were plotting against his safety. He bore the heavy yoke, since he endured an exile of filial devotion.’Footnote ⁷⁸

As well as obedience, the paradox of royalty humbling itself is crucial to these orations, and is paralleled in God's ultimate humbling himself in Christ, obedient even to die on a cross: ‘Christ humbled Himself to raise up all … And so because Theodosius, the Emperor, showed himself humble … his soul has turned to its rest.’Footnote ⁷⁹ Most of the imperial virtues enumerated in these sermons – endurance, patience, obedience and temperance, with the possible exception of courage – revolve around humility. The contrast between mercy/humility and power is expressed neatly by Ambrose's summary of the reasons for his love for Theodosius: ‘I have loved the merciful man, humble in power.’Footnote ⁸⁰

Ambrose emphasises different aspects of the two emperors' humility in the two sermons, as appropriate to the individual and the circumstances of preaching. For example, Valentinian, who died in mysterious circumstances and according to Ambrose surrounded by (and implicitly dying by the hand of) his enemies, is portrayed as a suffering Christ-like figure, whose qualities of endurance and patience were outstanding. Theodosius, who was politically more secure in life than the young Valentinian, is praised for his mercy and for his humility in confessing and repenting of his sins. Ambrose's statement of imperial fallibility is unusual in the context of a post-mortem assessment of an emperor, pagan or Christian, although it is what we have come to expect from him.Footnote ⁸¹

If virtues are viewed as essential and universal Christian qualities, the same for the subject as for the emperor, the reward for virtue, Paradise, must be similarly accessible to all. Ambrose describes the paradise which Valentinian approaches as the bucolic and un-kingly landscape of the Song of Songs: ‘“Come my brother”, [Gratian] says, “let us go forth into the field, let us find rest in the villages, let us get up early to the vineyards”, that is, you have come here where the fruit of the different virtues are conferred according to the merits of each us.’Footnote ⁸² But where Valentinian appears to have merited a flowery paradise, Theodosius enters a royal kingdom of heaven: ‘Now Theodosius of august memory acknowledges that he reigns, since he is in the kingdom of our Lord Jesus Christ.’Footnote ⁸³ He appears to achieve a higher, more royal heaven than Valentinian, reminiscent of the imperial paradise in which Eusebius places Constantine. Ambrose thus judges these men's relative levels of merit and reward. His priestly function of binding and loosing qualifies him to speculate on the fate of his subjects' souls, according to the quality of their lives, even though he stresses that God alone, not man, can judge man.

In this context, a consideration of the circumstances of Valentinian's death is instructive. Valentinian either committed suicide or was murdered; contemporaries attest variously to both.Footnote ⁸⁴ Ambrose's references to Valentinian's death certainly suggest that it was a distasteful affair: ‘Of the suddenness of his death, nor of its manner, do I speak, for I employ not the word of censure but of sorrow.’Footnote ⁸⁵ His sermon on Valentinian is also suffused with references to the emperor's enemies and his vulnerability: ‘But one should also pray for his enemies, pray even for his persecutors.’Footnote ⁸⁶ Thus Ambrose appears subtly to suggest that the emperor was a victim but does not go so far as to state that he died by his own hand.Footnote ⁸⁷ The fact that Valentinian had died unbaptised (and this was certain) was also problematic. Ambrose gets round this by adducing evidence, personal and public, for Valentinian's piety, and even offers Valentinian a post-mortem baptism on the grounds that he desired it: ‘if [martyrs] are washed in their own blood, his piety and his desire [for baptism] washed him also’.Footnote ⁸⁸ Valentinian is also given a helping hand at the gates of heaven, where he is introduced into paradise by Gratian, who stands by his side ‘as an advocate’.Footnote ⁸⁹

Both emperors are presented, then, for all their shortcomings, as meriting immortality. But heaven is presented as ‘the fruit of different virtues’,Footnote ⁹⁰ and Ambrose recognises that different men (in this case, the emperors Gratian and Valentinian) possessed different virtues and so would be differently rewarded. Whereas pagan virtue was its own reward, an end in itself,Footnote ⁹¹ Christian virtue is a means to an end, the reward of a heavenly immortality, described by Ambrose as a place of flowery delights to contrast with the aridity of the earth.Footnote ⁹²

Ambrose's imperial funeral sermons both reflect and create a Christian imperial image which is rather more ambiguous and multivalent than Eusebius' confident assertion of Constantine's continued post-mortem imperial sway. Ambrose instructed emperors in life to remember that they were mere men, and after their deaths, at their funerals, he reminds his congregations of this fact. He may present Valentinian and Theodosius as virtuous men, now enjoying heavenly rewards, but it is clear that these rewards are offered to all Christians. The pictures in Ambrose's imperial funeral sermons, panegyrical though they are in overall tone, are more muted and subtle than the dazzling praises of the pagan panegyrists and the Christian Eusebius. Ambrose praises Theodosius precisely because he is a ‘merciful man, humble in power’.Footnote ⁹³

There is some academic debate over the extent to which Ambrose's funeral orations rely on classical models. Thus Yves Duval proposed that classical genres did not dictate the structure of these sermons, but only influenced their style and content.Footnote ⁹⁴ A nuancing of this position might be suggested. What can be derived from these sermons is a sense of a newly universal dynamic to old ideas, and the transformation of the expression and impetus of those ideas into biblical language and imagery. This is hardly surprising given that Ambrose the bishop, used to expounding Scripture in sermons and catechesis alike, was not just preaching on an occasion, but over bodies and on texts. These sermons were shaped by the liturgy in which they were embedded, and particularly by the cadences of the Bible.