Kean sustained the leading parts,) and of several popular
novels. Moreover, he was an eloquent preacher, although probably he
mistook his calling when he entered the Church. Among his many
eccentricities I remember one: it was his habit to compose while walking
about his large and scantily furnished house; and always on such
occasions he placed a wafer on his forehead,--a sign that none of his
family or servants were to address him then, to endanger the loss of a
thought that might enlighten a world. He was always in "difficulties."
In Lady Morgan's Memoirs it is stated that Sir Charles Morgan raised a
subscription for Maturin, and supplied him with fifty pounds. "The first
use he made of the money was to give a grand party. There was little
furniture in the reception-room, but at one end of it there had been
erected an old theatrical-property throne, and under a canopy of crimson
velvet sat Mr. and Mrs. Maturin!"

Among the guests at Mr. Steele's were the poet's father, mother, and
sister,--the sister to whom he was so fervently attached. The father was
a plain, homely man,--nothing more, and assuming to be nothing more,
than a Dublin tradesman.[F] The mother evidently possessed a far higher
mind. She, too, was retiring and unpretending,--like her son in
features,--with the same gentle, yet sparkling eye, flexible and smiling
mouth, and kindly and conciliating manners. It was to be learned long
afterwards how deep was the affection that existed in the poet's heart
for these humble relatives,--how fervid the love he bore them,--how
earnest the respect with which he invariably treated them,--nay, how
elevated was the pride with which he regarded them from first to last.

The sister, Ellen, was, I believe, slightly deformed; at least, the
memory to me is that of a small, delicate woman, with one shoulder
"out." The expression of her countenance betokened suffering, having
that peculiar "sharpness" which usually accompanies severe and
continuous bodily ailment.[G] I saw more of her some years afterwards,
and knew that her mind and disposition were essentially lovable.

To the mother--Anastasia Moore, _nee_ Codd, a humbly descended, homely,
and almost uneducated woman[H]--Moore gave intense respect and devoted
affection, from the time that reason dawned upon him to the hour of her
death. To her he wrote his first letter, (in 1793,) ending with these
lines--

"Your absence all but ill endure,
And none so ill as-