close against me the door that the Lord hath opened to all who truly
repent.'

'What repentance have you shown for such a sin?' asked Ambrose.

'Appoint my penance,' said the Emperor, entirely subdued.

And Ambrose caused him at once to sign a decree that thirty days should
always elapse between a sentence of death and its execution. After this,
Theodosius was allowed to come into the church, but only to the corner
he had shunned all these eight months, till the 'dull hard stone within
him' had 'melted', to the spot appointed for the penitents. There,
without his crown, his purple robe, and buskins, worked with golden
eagles, all laid aside, he lay prostrate on the stones, repeating the
verse, 'My soul cleaveth unto the dust; quicken me, O Lord, according to
thy word.' This was the place that penitents always occupied, and there
fasts and other discipline were also appointed. When the due course had
been gone through, probably at the next Easter, Ambrose, in his Master's
name, pronounced the forgiveness of Theodosius, and received him back to
the full privileges of a Christian. When we look at the course of many
another emperor, and see how easily, where the power was irresponsible,
justice became severity, and severity, bloodthirstiness, we see what
Ambrose dared to meet, and from what he spared Theodosius and all the
civilized world under his sway. Who can tell how many innocent lives
have been saved by that thirty days' respite?

Pass over nearly 700 years, and again we find a church door barred
against a monarch. This time it is not under the bright Italian sky, but
under the grey fogs of the Baltic sea. It is not the stately marble
gateway of the Milanese Basilica, but the low-arched, rough stone portal