hich the grave worshippers were not filing into what cannot fairly be
called the house of silence, because it has been known to echo to
exhortations as earnest, if not as vehement as one may hear from any
pulpit. Still, there are sometimes long intervals of silence, and then
the consciousness that silent self-examination is one purpose of the
coming together, gives an impressiveness to the simple surroundings. It
must have been here that Mr. Whittier learned to interpret so
wonderfully that silent prayer of Agassiz for guidance when he opened
his famous school from which he was so soon called to a higher life.

"Then the Master in his place
Bowed his head a little space
And the leaves by soft airs stirred
Lapse of wave and cry of bird
Left the solemn hush unbroken
Of that wordless prayer unspoken
While its wish, on earth unsaid,
Rose to Heaven interpreted.
As in life's best hours we hear
By the spirit's finer ear
His low voice within us, thus
The All-Father heareth us:
And his holy ear we pain
With our noisy words and vain.
Not for him our violence
Storming at the gates of sense,
His the primal language, his
The eternal silences."

Mr. Whittier always goes to this meeting when he is well enough. The May
Quarterly Meetings of the Society of Friends are held at Amesbury. There
are a good many members of this Society in the town, and there is among
them a hospitality, a kindness, and a cordiality that added to their
quiet ways and the refined dress of the women makes them interesting.

It goes without saying that Amesbury has also the allotment of churches
of other denominations usual to New England towns.

Thirty years ago and more, the Amesbury and Salisbury Mills were two
distinct companies. The agent of the former mills, Mr. Joshua Aubin,
was a gentleman of fine presence. After he left Amesbury, he sent to
the town as a gift the nucleus of its present Public Library, which,
although not absolutely free has only a nominal subscription to pay the
services of the librarian, and for keeping the books in order.

[Illustration: John G. Whittier]

Mr. James Horton, agent of the Salisbury mills, was more of the
rough-and-ready type of man, a little bluff, but frank and kind-hearted.
Both gentlemen as it happened, lived in Amesbury and were of one mind in
regard to the character of their operatives. It was before the influx
of foreig