Well, but we won’t talk Politics:  shall we talk antiquities?  Gray and I discovered a considerable curiosity lately.  In an unfrequented quarter of the Colonna garden lie two immense fragments of marble, formerly part of a frieze to some building; ’tis not known of what.  They are of Parian marble:  which may give one some idea of the magnificence of the rest of the building for these pieces were at the very top.  Upon inquiry, we were told they had been measured by an architect, who declared they were larger than any member of St. Peter’s.  The length of one of the pieces is above sixteen feet.  They were formerly sold to a stonecutter for five thousand crowns, but Clement xi. would not permit them to be sawed, annulled the bargain, and laid a penalty of twelve thousand crowns upon the family if they parted with them.  I think it was a right judged thing.  Is it not amazing, that so vast a structure should not be known of, or that it should be so entirely destroyed?  But indeed at Rome this is a common surprise; for, by the remains one sees of the Roman grandeur in their structures, ’tis evident that there must have been more pains taken to destroy those piles than to raise them.  They are more demolished than any time or chance could have effected.  I am persuaded that in an hundred years Rome will not be worth seeing; ’tis less so now than one would believe.  All the public pictures are decayed or decaying; the few ruins cannot last long; and the statues and private collections must be sold, from the great poverty of the families.  There are now selling no less than three of the principal collections, the Barberini, the Sacchetti, and Ottoboni:  the latter belonged to the cardinal who died in the conclave.  I must give you an instance of his generosity, or rather ostentation.  When Lord Carlisle was here last year, who is a great virtuoso, he asked leave to see the cardinal’s collection of cameos and intaglios.  Ottoboni gave leave, and ordered the person who showed them to observe which my lord admired most.  My lord admired many:  they were all sent him the next morning.  He sent the cardinal back a fine gold repeater; who returned him an acate snuff box, and more cameoes of ten times the value.  Voila qui est fini!  Had my lord produced more golden repeaters, it would have been begging more cameos.  Adieu, my dear West!  You see I write often and much, as you desired it.  Do answer one now and then, with any little job that is done in England.  Good night.  Yours ever.

(192) This report, which proved unfounded, was grounded on the fact, that on the 18th of April his Majesty’s ships Lenox, Kent, and Orford, commanded by Captains Mayne, Durell, and Lord Augustus Fitzroy, part of Admiral Balchen’s squadron being on a cruise about forty leagues to the westward of Cape Finisterre, fell in with the Princessa, esteemed the finest ship of war in the Spanish navy, and captured her, after an engagement of five hours.-E.