When Pope Paul V. endeavoured to bring the citizens under his autocratic rule, they resisted with much firmness. One of the causes of offence was that the Venetians favoured the principle of toleration in religious beliefs, and permitted the heretical to worship according to their consciences. The Pope, after fruitless negotiations, excommunicated Venice, sending his agents with the documents. With all vigilance, the government of the city forbade the exposure of any papal decree in the streets, while the Doge stoutly asserted that the people of Venice regarded the bull with contempt. Nearly all Europe sided with Venice in this conflict between Pope and Doge. England was prepared to ally herself with France, and to assist Venice. Months passed without developments. Venice remained Catholic, but refused to become a vassal of the Pope of Rome. Paul was enraged and humiliated. One cannot admire his action; yet pity for the proud, sincere, and baffled Pontiff tinges one's view of the struggle. Venice even refused to request the abolition of the ban. She remained quietly indifferent to the thunderings of the See, and haughtily criticised the overtures of reconciliation offered through the French cardinals. Finally, with dignity and yet a touch of farce, the Senate handed over to the Pope's emissaries certain offenders, "without prejudice," to be held by the King of France. Paolo Sarpi, the priest and born diplomat, was the hero of Venice during this quarrel with Rome. Sarpi was a man of unassailable virtue and integrity, a tactful leader of men, and possessed of intrepidity. He was, not unnaturally, detested by the adherents of the Pope for his defence of Venetian rights and privileges. One night, crossing a bridge, Brother Paolo was attacked by ruffians, and stabbed with daggers. The assailants had been sent from Rome to kill the obnoxious priest. But the scheme failed, for Paolo Sarpi recovered from his wounds, and the attempt upon his life endeared him still more deeply to the hearts of the Venetians. Some years after he died in his bed, lamented by high and low in the city. Before the Church of Santa Fosca stands a memorial to this brave citizen. The Venice of the eighteenth century was a decaying city, with an enervated, apathetic population, given to gaming, and improvident in their lives. Many of the noble families sank into penury. Still the people sang and danced and held revelry; nothing could quench their passion for enjoyment. The Republic was now the prey of the great imperialist Napoleon, who adroitly acquired Venice by threats of war followed by promises of democratic rule. A few shots were fired by the French; then the Doge offered terms, which gave the city to the Emperor, while the citizens held rejoicings at the advent of a new government.