* * * * *

A passage from the journal of a friend of Margaret, whom the news of the wreck drew at once to the scene, shall close this mournful story:—­

“The hull of the Elizabeth, with the foremast still bound to it by cordage, lies so near the shore, that it seems as if a dozen oar-strokes would carry a boat alongside.  And as one looks at it glittering in the sunshine, and rocking gently in the swell, it is hard to feel reconciled to our loss.  Seven resolute men might have saved every soul on board.  I know how different was the prospect on that awful morning, when the most violent gale that had visited our coast for years, drove the billows up to the very foot of the sand-hills, and when the sea in foaming torrents swept across the beach into the bay behind.  Yet I cannot but reluctantly declare my judgment, that this terrible tragedy is to be attributed, so far as human agency is looked at, to our wretched system, or no-system, of life-boats.  The life-boat at Fire Island light-house, three miles distant only, was not brought to the beach till between twelve and one o’clock, more than eight hours after the Elizabeth was stranded, and more than six hours after the wreck could easily have been seen.  When the life-boat did finally come, the beachmen could not be persuaded to launch or man her.  And even the mortar, by which a rope could and should have been thrown on board, was not once fired.  A single lesson like this might certainly suffice to teach the government, insurance companies, and humane societies, the urgent need, that to every life-boat should be attached ORGANIZED CREWS, stimulated to do their work faithfully, by ample pay for actual service, generous salvage-fees for cargoes and persons, and a pension to surviving friends where life is lost. * * *

“No trace has yet been found of Margaret’s manuscript on Italy, though the denials of the wreckers as to having seen it, are not in the least to be depended on.  For, greedy after richer spoil, they might well have overlooked a mass of written paper; and, even had they kept it, they would be slow to give up what would so clearly prove their participation in the heartless robbery, that is now exciting such universal horror and indignation.  Possibly it was washed away before reaching the shore, as several of the trunks, it is said, were open and empty, when thrown upon the beach.  But it is sad to think, that very possibly the brutal hands of pirates may have tossed to the winds, or scattered on the sands, pages so rich with experience and life.  The only papers of value saved, were the love-letters of Margaret and Ossoli.[C]

“It is a touching coincidence, that the only one of Margaret’s treasures which reached the shore, was the lifeless form of Angelino.  When the body, stripped of every rag by the waves, was rescued from the surf, a sailor took it reverently in his arms, and, wrapping