ad supplied both the temptation and the means to
set forth the interior in a fashion that might have satisfied the most
fastidious _petite maitresse_ of Norwood or St. Denis. John, too, was
a married man: he had, however, erected for himself a private wing,
the accesses to which, whether from the main building or the
_bosquet_, were so narrow that it was physically impossible for the
handsome and portly lady who bore his name to force her person through
any one of them. His dinners were in all respects Parisian, for his
wasted palate disdained such John Bull luxuries as were all in all
with James. The piquant pasty of Strasburg or Perigord was never to
seek; and even the _piece de resistance_ was probably a boar's head
from Coblentz, or a turkey ready stuffed with truffles from the Palais
Royal. The pictures scattered among John's innumerable mirrors were
chiefly of theatrical subjects--many of them portraits of beautiful
actresses--the same Peg Woffingtons, Bellamys, Kitty Clives, and so
forth, that {p.260} found their way in the sequel to Charles
Mathews's gallery at Highgate. Here that exquisite comedian's own
mimicries and parodies were the life and soul of many a festival, and
here, too, he gathered from his facetious host not a few of the
richest materials for his _at homes_ and _monopolylogues_. But,
indeed, whatever actor or singer of eminence visited Edinburgh, of the
evenings when he did not perform several were sure to be reserved for
Trinity. Here Braham quavered, and here Liston drolled his best--here
Johnstone, and Murray, and Yates mixed jest and stave--here Kean
revelled and rioted--and here the Roman Kemble often played the Greek
from sunset to dawn. Nor did the popular _cantatrice_ or _danseuse_ of
the time disdain to freshen her roses, after a laborious week, amidst
these Paphian arbors of Harmony Hall.

Johnny had other tastes that were equally expensive. He had a
well-furnished stable, and followed the foxhounds whenever the cover
was within an easy distance. His horses were all called after heroes
in Scott's poems or novels; and at this time he usually rode up to his
auction on a tall milk-white hunter, yclept _Old Mortality_, attended
by a leash or two of greyhounds,--Die Vernon, Jenny Dennison, and so
forth, by name. The featherweight himself appeared uniformly,
hammer-in-hand, in the half-dress of some sporting club--a light gray
frock, with emblems of the chase on its silver buttons, white cord