In 1645 the Turks began a war which endured nearly twenty-five years, in which time many brave deeds were done, and the true old Venetian spirit maintained itself in spite of the greatest discouragements, losses, and sufferings. Their determined defence of Candia interested all the world; and more than once succor was sent from France, and the solid ranks of the Mussulmans were impetuously assaulted to no purpose. Other nations were fired with admiration of the splendid resistance these Christians were making, and determined to send them aid, but all too late. "The Republic was dying; but dying gloriously here in the Levant,—the earliest, as it was the latest, scene of all her solid triumphs."

Lazzaro Mocenigo, the brave commander of the fleet, after many splendid deeds, was killed by the explosion of his magazine. After an interval the great Francesco Morosini was made admiral. He was the last of the Venetian seamen to uphold the ancient fame of his country upon the seas, but it was his sad fate to end this struggle by negotiation instead of victory. The terms were honorable. Candia was surrendered; but the guns, the people, the sacred vessels, and the ammunition were removed to the Venetian fleet, and the roadstead of Suda remained to Venice. Morosini also made a peace between the Republic and the Sultan. This was in 1669, and Venice was on the brink of financial ruin.

Sixteen years later Morosini was again in command against the Turks, who had threatened attacks on Albania. The Admiral now conceived the idea of reconquering the Morea, in which he succeeded. He bombarded Athens in 1688, when one of his bombs set fire to a powder magazine within the Parthenon, and ruined the temple. He was recalled to Venice by the news that he had been elected Doge in recognition of his services; but he soon returned to the Morea, where matters were not progressing to his satisfaction. His embarkation in 1693 afforded almost the last of the great solemnities of the Republic, which proved to be also the last honor to Morosini, for he died at Nauplia very soon after his arrival, worn out with age ami long service of Venice.

The results of his conquests were of small account to the Republic. She had lost her power to maintain distant provinces; and finally, in 1718, all her long struggles in the Levant were ended by the final resignation of her claims to the Morea. But she did not forget to emblazon the name of Francesco Morosini, the hero of her last conflicts on that sea of which she was so long the proud mistress, on the walls of the Sala dello Scrutinio.

We have already considered the Council of Ten, and defended it against some of the accusations which have been too frequently made against it. During the first two centuries of its existence it became enormously important. The State retained the management of the navy and army, of finance, and, in a certain sense, of diplomacy; but all urgent or unusual business was left to the Ten, who could call any case before its court, could make special expenditures, and could privately instruct ambassadors,—extensive powers, which made it the essential ruler of Venice,—and the last two centuries and a half of the constitutional history of the Republic is simply the story of a growing opposition to the power of the Ten.

In the early days of its existence, when a difficult question was before the Ten, that body was accustomed to appeal to the Senate for assistance from some of its number, appointed to the duty. These men formed what came to be known as the Giunta, or Zonta; and having but a temporary connection with the Ten, they were as likely to disapprove their course as to be content with it. But in 1529 this Zonta became a permanent body, and was composed of the most prominent members of each of the other councils of the State. Thus, if the action of the Ten was questioned, it was defended by the most powerful men of the Republic, and more and more was able to enlarge its office and increase its absolutism.

The first serious outbreak against the Ten occurred when that body clearly overstepped its province, and asked the Doge Foscari to resign. Legally such a request must come from the vote of the Great Council, with the advice of the Ducal Council. These councils resented the action of the Ten; and its authority was declared to be limited to delicate and secret matters, which might be submitted to its consideration. These limitations were made in 1468, but were of little effect. We find in 1483 that it was the Ten who decided on the conduct of the Ferrarese war, and in 1508 it was the same power that took up and decided the questions which resulted from the League of Cambray.

A few years later a new departure was made by the Ten. In 1537 they delegated a part of their duties, the care of the public morals, to Esecutori contra la Bestemmia. This having been allowed, two years later the Three Inquisitors of State were created. The special duty of the Three was to deal with treason, which seemed to abound, as the state secrets were constantly communicated to the ambassadors of various countries. After the League of Cambray took effect, the Venetians relied solely on their diplomacy. If this could not be conducted with secrecy, their ship of state was without a rudder; and the repeated violation of this secrecy led to the belief that even Ten was too large a body to be trusted. The Three Inquisitors had all the powers of the Ten, except that they were obliged to report their sentences to the Great Council. They soon became very objectionable to the corrupt nobility, into whose morals they had the right to inquire; and the hatred for the Ten, and even more for the Three, constantly increased. The first real difficulty, however, did not occur until 1582, when the feeling developed into hostility between the Great Council and the Ten, and was never allayed during the existence of the Republic.

The dread of Spain, of Spanish plots and Spanish gold, had almost paralyzed the government ever after Cambray; and when, at the beginning of the seventeenth century, Venice was involved in a quarrel with Paul V., the Ten and the Inquisitors fully believed that the Pope would employ the army of Spain to reduce Venice to obedience to him. In 1612 one of the Inquisitors wrote in his memoranda: "Right piteous is our condition. Alone we cannot resist. Allies we have not, neither ready enough nor warm enough. Treaties we cannot construct upon any terms which are not ruinous to us."

Six years later all the fears inspired by the Spaniards were justified when the Spanish conspiracy was discovered. The Viceroy of Naples, Duke of Ossuna, and the Spanish ambassador at Venice, Marquis of Bedmar, were suspected of being the chiefs in the plot. Giacomo Pierre was at the head of the disreputable company of questionable characters, who were their agents, consisting of bravi, mercenaries, and other broken-down men who went frequently to the house of the ambassador. Pierre, however, betrayed enough of the plot to the Venetian Resident at Naples, Spinelli, to cause him to send Pierre, with his friends Regnault and Langlade, to Venice. They were there left free, but constantly watched. Pierre had alleged the plot to be the seizure of Venice. The boats of Ossuna were to enter the lagoon at Malamocco, steal up to the Piazzetta by night, and with the aid of confederates already there secure command of the city. Ossuna's fleet was certainly in the Adriatic, but it did not approach Venice.