Readers of Whittier, the now venerable and famous American poet, will remember fond allusions to his favourite sister Elizabeth, who during her life was a bright and stimulating member of the poet's earlier and later home. The day has not yet come when we can learn much of her happy influence upon him. She was pre-eminently her brother's sister, and of her character as such we cannot now know much. She was also herself a poet, and several of her pieces have been published. A few particulars of her life cannot be uninteresting. She was born on December 7, 1815, the younger sister of the poet, being the fourth and last child of their father, John Whittier. Elizabeth derived her second name from the family of her mother, whose maiden name was Abigail Hussey, and who was of English descent. The Whittiers had for some generations lived in a house built by one of the ancestors of the family at Haverill, and had been prominent members of the Society of Friends. The young Whittiers were happy in their parenthood, as well as in their early surroundings. Their father was an honest, upright, sturdy yeoman, to whom a mean and cowardly action was unknown, while their mother was gifted with the natural refinement of thought and manner distinguishing the possession of a gentle heart. Passages in Whittier's "Snowbound" are pleasantly descriptive of his early home and its members. Of his mother he writes:-- Our mother, while she turned her wheel, Or run the new-knit stocking heel, Told how the Indian hordes came down At midnight on Cochico town. Then haply, with a look more grave, And soberer tone, some tale she gave From painful Sewall's ancient tome, Beloved in every Quaker home, And faith fire-winged by martyrdom. Of his sister Mary he says:-- There, too, our elder sister plied Her evening task the stand beside; A full, rich, nature, free to trust, Truthful and almost sternly just, Impulsive, earnest, prompt to act, And make her generous thought a fact, Keeping with many a light disguise, The secret of self-sacrifice. And thus of Elizabeth:-- As one who held herself a part Of all she saw, and let her heart Against the household bosom lean, Upon the motley braided mat Our youngest and our dearest sat, Lifting her large, sweet, asking eyes. When Elizabeth was born, John, the future poet, was just eight years old, and attending his first school. Years wore on, and the boy's occupation alternated between school, household duties, and work on his father's farm. Meanwhile his little sister was, from the exemplary household gathered under her father's roof, and the sweet influences of a happy home, receiving the impressions and learning the precious lessons which can only be gathered during the earliest years, and through which the little human child becomes the sweetest thing in life.