rage was truly awful to behold, and, stepping between them, commanded them to separate.  They parted, but with such a look of deadly revenge, that Margaret felt her work was but half accomplished.  She therefore sought them out separately, and talked with each, urging forgiveness; it was long, however, before she could see any change of purpose, and only by repeated conversations was it, that she brought about her desire, and saw them meet as friends.  After this, her reputation as peace-maker was great, and the women in the neighborhood came to her with long tales of trouble, urging her intervention.  I have never known anything more extraordinary than this influence of hers over the passion and violence of the Italian character.  Repeated instances come to my mind, when a look from her has had more power to quiet excitement, than any arguments and reasonings that could be brought to bear upon the subject.  Something quite superior and apart from them, the people thought her, and yet knew her as the gentle and considerate judge of their vices.

“I may also mention here, that Margaret’s charities, according to her means, were larger than those of any other whom I ever knew.  At one time, in Rome, while she lived upon the simplest, slenderest fare, spending only some ten or twelve cents a day for her dinner, she lent, unsolicited, her last fifty dollars to an artist, who was then in need.  That it would ever be returned to her, she did not know; but the doubt did not restrain the hand from giving.  In this instance, it was soon repaid her; but her charities were not always towards the most deserving.  Repeated instances of the false pretences, under which demands for charity are made, were known to her after she had given to unworthy objects; but no experience of this sort ever checked her kindly impulse to give, and being once deceived taught her no lesson of distrust.  She ever listened with ready ear to all who came to her in any form of distress.  Indeed, to use the language of another friend, ’the prevalent impression at Rome, among all who knew her, was, that she was a mild saint and a ministering angel.’

“I have, in order to bring in these instances of her influence on those about her, deviated from my track.  We return to the life she led in Rome during the attack of the French, and her charge of the hospitals, where she spent daily some seven or eight hours, and, often, the entire night.  Her feeble frame was a good deal shaken by so uncommon a demand upon her strength, while, at the same time, the anxiety of her mind was intense.  I well remember how exhausted and weary she was; how pale and agitated she returned to us after her day’s and night’s watching; how eagerly she asked for news of Ossoli, and how seldom we had any to give her, for he was unable to send her a word for two or three days at a time.  Letters from the country there were few or none, as the communication between Rieti and Rome was cut off.