Paul V carried this idea so far on the one hand, and on the other poured such lavish favors upon his own kin, that he won for himself the name of “the Grand Ingrate.” Looking upon himself as divinely appointed in a marked and special degree, the quiet, unassuming cardinal became the opinionated and inflexible pontiff. He administered the papal power, temporal and spiritual, with the arrogance of a despot, the intolerance of an inquisitor, and the formality of the jurist. During the sixteen years of his pontificate he succeeded in rousing bitter hostility on all sides. The aged Grand Duke of Tuscany, who had lived through nine pontificates and had known both Sixtus V and Clement VIII, complained that this Pope judged of the world as he would of one of the towns belonging to the papal territory where everything was done according to the letter of the law, and went on to say that in this respect there would soon have to be a change. The year before his election the gunpowder plot had fanned England into a white heat of patriotism, and a new oath of allegiance was required by Parliament. Paul V was the Pope who forbade the English Catholics to take it. He also was the Pope who so mishandled the Gallican Church that he forced the States General of 1614 to declare that the King of France held his power from God alone; and, finally, it was Paul V who spent the first two years of his pontificate in such a quarrel with Venice as threatened to involve all Christendom. The Republic so unflinchingly endured excommunication and interdict that the Pope even thought of subduing her by arms. He was brought to his senses only by the fear that Venice in her extremity might call Protestant powers to her aid and thus bring confusion and disaster not only upon Italy but upon all Catholic countries. In this grave crisis France took it upon herself to mediate, and the dispute was finally settled, but with little honor to the papacy. It was a Venetian ambassador who has recorded of Clement VIII that when he found he could not reform Florence without great trouble he reformed his own mind. But Paul V did not, like the wise Clement VIII, “look to his predecessors” when in difficulties. Paul V had certainly no cause to love the Venetians, and it is one of the quaint tricks of history that his magnificent fountain on the Janiculum was at last finished by a Venetian Pope. Although the Fontanone was built in the seventeenth century, its most interesting associations are connected with modern Rome. It is pre-eminently the fountain of the Risorgimento, for the last stand in Garibaldi’s three months’ defense of the Roman Republic was made upon the terraces surrounding this water, and it was just above here that the worst fighting occurred. The second stage of the siege consisted of the nine days’ defense of the Aurelian wall, behind which Garibaldi was intrenched.