expence they pleased.  I look with great pleasure on the statue of that hero, which is in the court belonging to the house of duke Doria.  This puts me in mind of their palaces, which I can never describe as I ought.—­Is it not enough, that I say, they are, most of them, the design of Palladio?  The street called Strada Nova, is perhaps the most beautiful line of building in the world.  I must particularly mention the vast palaces of Durazzo, those of the two Balbi, joined together by a magnificent colonade (sic), that of the Imperiale at this village of St Pierre d’Arena, and another of the Doria.  The perfection of architecture, and the utmost profusion of rich furniture are to be seen here, disposed with the most elegant taste, and lavish magnificence.  But I am charmed with nothing so much as the collection of pictures by the pencils of Raphael, Paulo Veronese, Titian, Caracci, Michael Angelo, Guido, and Corregio, which two I mention last as my particular favourites.  I own, I can find no pleasure in objects of horror; and, in my opinion, the more naturally a crucifix is represented, the more disagreeable it is.  These, my beloved painters, shew nature, and shew it in the most charming light.  I was particularly pleased with a Lucretia in the house of Balbi; the expressive beauty of that face and bosom, gives all the passion of pity and adoration, that could be raised in the soul, by the finest artist on that subject.  A Cleopatra of the same hand, deserves to be mentioned; and I should say more of her if Lucretia had not first engaged my eyes.—­Here are also some inestimable ancient bustos (sic).—­The church of St Lawrence is built of black and white marble, where is kept that famous plate of a single emerald, which is not now permitted to be handled, since a plot, which, they say, was discovered, to throw it on the pavement and break it; a childish piece of malice, which they ascribe to the king of Sicily, to be revenged for their refusing to sell it to him.  The church of the annunciation is finely lined with marble; the pillars are of red and white marble; that of St Ambrose has been very much adorned by the Jesuits; but I confess, all the churches appeared so mean to me, after that of Sancta Sophia, I can hardly do them the honour of writing down their names.  But I hope you will own, I have made good use of my time, in seeing so much, since ’tis not many days that we have been out of the quarantine, from which no body is exempted coming from the Levant.  Ours, indeed, was very much shortened, and very agreeably passed in Mrs D’Avenant’s company, in the village of St Pierre d’Arena, about a mile from Genoa, in a house built by Palladio, so well designed, and so nobly proportioned, ’twas a pleasure to walk in it.  We were visited here only by a few English, in the company of a noble Genoese; commissioned to see we did not touch one another.—­I shall stay here some days longer, and could almost wish it were for all my life; but mine, I fear, is not destined to so much tranquillity.  I am, &c. &c.