MY NAMESAKE BY BON GAULTIER. [Theodore Martin, born in Edinburgh, 16th September, 1816. He was the joint-author, with Professor Aytoun, of the famous Bon Gaultier ballads and tales of which series he was the originator. In his Life of Aytoun (Blackwood and Sons, 1867) he says: "Some papers of a humorous kind which I had published under the nom de plume of Bon Gaultier,1 had hit Aytoun's fancy; and when I proposed to go on with others in a similar vein, he fell readily into the plan, and agreed to assist in it. In this way a kind of Beaumont-and-Fletcher partnership commenced in a series of humorous papers which appeared in Tait's and Fraser's Magazines during the years 1842, 1843, and 1844." The following tale was published in Fraser's Magazine, December, 1842. Amongst Mr. Martin's valuable translations are: Goethe's Faust; Odes of Horace: Catullus: The Vita Nuova of Dante; Aladdin, a Dramatic Poem, and Correggio, a Tragedy, both by Oehlenschlaeger; and King Rene's Daughter, a Danish lyrical drama by Henrik Hertz. Under the special sanction of Her Majesty the Queen, Mr. Martin wrote the "Life of H. R. H. the Prince Consort." Why was I called Brown-why John Brown? The cruelty of custom! to fasten upon me such an every-day sort of name, solely because my ancestors had borne it contentedly for years. If it had only been Alfred Brown, or Frederick, or even Edward, the thing might have passed; but John Brown! There is no getting over the commonplace of the cognomen. John Brown is everybody, anybody, nobody. Any one John Brown is quite as good as another: he belongs to a class so numerous that it is vain to attempt to individualize your conceptions of them. Had ever any man a distinct idea of a John Brown? No! There are at least some fifty of his acquaintances who bear the name, and these are all jumbled together in his mind in one vague and undefined chaos, "A mighty maze, and all without a plan." We are the nobodies of society. "John, my boy," said my father to me one day, "John, my boy, we are a pair of miserable selfish dogs living here, a brace of bachelors, upon the fat of the land, with not a bit of womankind about us. This sort of thing will never do. One or other of us must get married, that's plain. I'm a thought too old for it; besides that my regard for your poor dear mother will hardly allow me; so, John, my boy, the lot falls on you. What say you the plan?" to The name is taken from the prologue to the first book of Rabelais. VOL. I. "Oh, I'm perfectly agreeable, if you wish it; indeed, I rather like the plan than otherwise." "Indeed, you rather like the plan than otherwise! You apathetic puppy, you should You don't know go into raptures about it. what a splendid thing it makes life to have a fine, affectionate, gentle-hearted creature for the wife of your bosom "The treasures of the deep are not so precious As are the concealed comforts of a man Lock'd up in woman's love.' The old boy who wrote that knew what was what." "Well, well, father, I bow to your experience; and, since you wish it, shall look out for a better-half forthwith. But perhaps you can give me a hint where to direct my search?" I continued, seeing, from the old gentleman's looks, that he had some project on his mind, of which he was bursting to unburden it. It "I think I can, indeed. A splendid girl!" "No? Who is she?" "Oh, I have tickled your curiosity, have I? would serve you right, you cold-blooded rascal, not to tell you.' 'Nay, but "Well, well, I'll be merciful. So, then, what say you to the daughter of my very worthy friend David Smith of Edinburgh?" "Smith!" I exclaimed in dismay, thinking of the unhappy conjunction of the uncommon names of Brown and Smith. Yes, sir, Miss Smith-Miss Julia Smith. Have you any objection to the lady, you puppy, that you stand staring at me as if I were a hobgoblin?" Julia Smith! The Julia did certainly set off the surname a little. It was not so bad, after all. "Objection, sir? None in the world. How could I, when the lady may be as beauti ful as day, and as amiable as Mrs. Chapone, for anything I know?" "None of your sneering, you impudent dog, or I'll knock you down. The girl is only too good for you every way. If you haven't seen her, I have, and that's enough. But there is no time to be lost. I warrant me there are lots of young fellows ready to throw themselves at her feet, and you may be cut out before you can say Jack Robinson. So the sooner you talked over the matter together. He is anxious see her the better. Smith and myself have for the match, and you start therefore with the odds in your favour. I have written to him to expect you this week. So be off with you, my boy; and if you don't secure the prize, order 16 a new pair of garters, and hang yourself in them upon a day's notice." Expostulation was out of the question, and I therefore set about the execution of the old gentleman's project without delay. Indeed, it jumped more with my own inclination than I cared to tell him. I was heartily tired of a bachelor's life; and being well to do, at least, if not rich, with the certainty of succeeding to my father's fortune, which was considerable, in perspective, marriage appeared to me to be at once a duty and a pleasure. In short, I had at that moment a favourable predisposi tion towards the sex in general; and as Miss Julia Smith had been selected as my bride, I was perfectly contented with the arrangement, provided always that the lady came up to my father's description of her, and had herself no objection to the match. I drove to Charing Cross, and was just in time to secure the only sleeping-berth in the Clarence steam-packet for Leith that was left untaken. I also engaged a seat in the omnibus for Blackwall, and, directing that I should be taken up at the end of Ludgate Street, I returned home to make the necessary arrangements for my expedition. at Blackwall. I was just in time and no more; which had merely the effect of enabling the cab-driver to charge me about five times as much as he was entitled to-knowing well that I was not likely to stay behind to call him to account. Having seen my portmanteaus safely deposited on deck, I proceeded to reconnoitre my sleeping berth. I had been extremely fortunate in my selection; it was an upper berth, nearly amidships; and, congratulating myself on the "snug lying" I was likely to have during the voyage, I made my way to the cabin. The vessel was crowded to inconvenience; every seat was occupied, and every man seemed to be vying with his neighbour in the consumption of cold beef, ham, ship-biscuit, mustard, Jamaica pickles, porter, and brandyand-water. The heat was intolerable, and I went on deck to refresh myself with the cool breeze that played across the water, and there I sat watching the vessels that glided past us like so many ghosts as we descended the Thames, till all the other passengers had retired to rest. Cold and wearied I made my way down stairs, through avenues of sleepers distributed over every couch that could be made to do duty for a bed-a duty which, if anything might be augured from the groans of dissatisfaction that rose up here and there through the saloon, they did very ill. "Poor devils!" I said to myself, letting off a little of that superfluous sympathy which costs a man nothing, but is very comfortable to the conscience, "Full, sir, out and in," said the cad in a nevertheless. Having with some difficulty commiserating tone. St. Paul's bell was intimating to the public that nine hours and a quarter had elapsed since noon, when, punctual to a minute, up clattered the omnibus. On it rolled, giving no indication of an intention to stop; but, by directing sundry excited gestures towards the conductor of the vehicle, I at length succeeded in getting him to pull up. gained the sleeping cabin, I proceeded to un "Full-the deuce you are! Didn't I book dress by the dim light of a lamp that was myself for a place?" 'Can't say, really. Ve've got our complement, any vay." "Isn't the name of Brown on your list!" "Brown?" "Yes, Mr. Brown-Mr. John Brown." "Vell, vot of it? Ve've got two Browns in the buss, von on 'em a Mr. John Brown; took him up at Vellington Street, Strand. More browns than guineas goin' vith us any day, I b'lieve you. Drive on, Bill, time's up!" and away dashed the omnibus, leaving me at the mercy of a dozen or two of cab-drivers, who by this time had seen my predicament, and had each deposited me in imagination in his own break-neck conveyance. In a moment of desperation I consigned myself to the management of one of these gentlemen, and, shutting my eyes to danger, allowed him to drive me in his ●wn reckless and fanciful manner to the wharf fighting desperately against a predisposition to go out, and had begun to scramble into my berth, when, hark! a snore? No, it could not be! Another, a distinct, and most unmistakable snore! I peered forward into the gloom; and, judge of my dismay, when, protruding from the bed-clothes, I beheld a head fringed with jet-black whiskers, and surmounted by a nightcap, the proprietor of which, undisturbed by my approach, continued to doze away like a dormouse. Here was a pretty position to be in-to be standing nearly in a' state of nature, at three in the morning, in the sleeping-cabin of a steamboat, shut out of my berth, and not a corner to take refuge in anywhere! It would have provoked a saint, and yet I could not think of rousing the usurper of my bed, and turning him out by a process of summary ejectment. There might be some mistake; but, then, No. 32, that cer tainly was my berth. I looked at my ticket | resting-place as soft. Anything like sleep was to make sure. Yes, there it was, No. 32. out of the question. Every roll of the vessel Something must be done, however; for I felt transfixed my person upon some acute angle, my person growing chiller and chiller, and my of which there were countless numbers, formed, teeth began to chatter like a fulling-mill. I Heaven and the ship's carpenter alone knew whipped on my small-clothes, and, with my how; and just as I might be going off into a feet thrust into a stray pair of slippers, felt doze, roll went the vessel, and bang went my my way back through the cabin to the sanctum haunch against an obtrusive angle of my bed, of the steward, to whom I detailed the hard- in a way that left me groaning for the next ships of my case. He turned up his book, half-hour. Snore-snore, went all the noses and there, certainly, opposite No. 32, stood in the place, with a demoniac purpose to taunt the name of Mr. John Brown. "That's me!" my sleepless wretchedness. I distinctly heard I exclaimed triumphantly, pointing to the that fellow Brown. There was a sort of gurgle place; when my eyes, glancing along the page, in his note; he was chuckling in his sleep at alighted upon a succession of Mr. Browns, and my discomfort. The impulse to rise and near the bottom, among the "waifs" who had strangle him seized me more than once; inno berths provided for them, but were to take deed, how I restrained myself is to this moment their chance of a sleeping-place anywhere, a mystery to me. stood the name of a Mr. John Brown at full length. "I see how it is, sir; this Mr. Brown has got into your bed by mistake," said the purveyor of victuals. We must see what we can do for you." Saying this he accompanied me below, where he commenced a sort of custom-house inspection of the intruder's travelling gear. "Just as I said, sir; there it is, Mr. John Brown!" he exclaimed, pointing to a brass plate upon a portmanteau bearing that interesting inscription. Confound the fellow! I could have sworn it was the same person that cut me out of my seat in the omnibus. It was provoking to a degree. But I was always conspicuous for good-nature, and even here it got the better of my wrath. He might have done it quite innocently; and, upon reflection how horribly uncomfortable it would be for him to be turned out of a warm bed in the middle of his first sleep, I told the steward if he could stow me away anywhere for the night, I shouldn't mind. There was a place that had apparently been at one time intended for a berth-a cramped, dark, mouldy sort of place, where all the dirty table-cloths and towels, the accumulation of three or four voyages, were crammed; and this, it occurred, might be turned into a receptacle for my wearied limbs. It was better than want, at all events; and, accordingly, after the "filthy dowlas" had been routed out, and a mattress and its appendages tumbled in, I followed the example of the latter articles, and deposited my person in the aperture. Such a hole did never man confide himself to, except with a view to suicide. Falstaff in the buck-basket inhaled not more unsavoury perfumes; Prometheus chained to the rock had a It At length day broke, and heads, with nightcaps, began to pop out from behind the curtains, and after looking round with no very definite purpose, popped in again. Some time after, the steward's boy entered the cabin, and husky voices were heard demanding what was the hour and whereabout the vessel was. was by this time blowing pretty fresh, but as most of the passengers were as yet nearly as fresh as the breeze, they had the temerity to get up, and, one after another, disappeared up stairs. At last my namesake, Mr. John Brown, emerged from his dormitory and proceeded to dress himself. I lay watching the villain with quiet disgust. He was a goodlooking man of some eight-and-twenty, with a prominent nose and sharp dark eyes. His. florid complexion bespoke him of that comfortable, sanguine temperament which nothing can dash, but which, in all seasons and circumstances, retains an easy and self-satisfied complacency. There was a desperate independence about the man, of which a nervous person, like myself, would have given worlds to have had a sprinkling; and, besides all this, he had a look of freshness and vigour natural to one who has had a good night's rest, that to me, who had not shut an eye, was sufficiently aggravating. He was one of those people, too, the nuisances of steamboats, who take a long hour to fit themselves up for the day, who monopolize the dressing-place, splashing and spluttering, and gobble-obble-obbleing in one basin of water after another till the other passengers grow revolutionary and the understeward shows symptoms of partial delirium. Although the breakfast-bell had sounded for some time, still did Mr. John Brown keep combing his whiskers, paring his nails, polishing his teeth, and adjusting a thousand et mottled into a variety of tints as numerous as the rainbow's, a purply-blue predominating. Blustering town-councillors and arrogant cockneys-fat, apoplectic men—had sunk into their native smallness, and skulked anywhere. As for the ladies, their plight defies description. Silks and satins crumpled and stained past recovery, bonnets bruised into the most fantastic shapes, parasols in fragments, and bandboxes falling to pieces, were everywhere to be seen. Cheeks without the bloom, eyes robbed of the lustre that had wooed admiration when we started, and hair without glossiness, straggling unreproved across the so lately dazzling brow, left all devotees to the sex to mourn over what Byron calls— "The beauty of the sick ladies (Cyclades)." But I soon found that I had something else to mourn over that concerned me more nearly, which was the loss of a small portmanteau, containing all my letters and private papers. Hurrying back to the steamer and pouncing upon the cabin-boy, I demanded of him if he had seen it. ceteras about his person, whilst I lay frying | steamer that carried us ashore, with visages with impatience to hear the clatter of cups overhead, and the everlasting calls for herrings and buttered toast. My appetite was growing decidedly wolfish, and yet there stood that detestable namesake of mine, ducking and diving into the basin-stand, and swilling his face and neck with oceans of water as though he were never to have done. There was no hope for me, so I sunk back upon my pillow and resigned myself to my fate. The breeze had continued to freshen, and by the time my tormentor had finished his toilette, it was a matter of perfect indifference to me what he did, provided I were left to the calm indulgence of my misery. The truth is, that I became extremely sick, and after this feeling had gone off it left a splitting headache behind to keep me company. One by one the inmates of the cabin, that had left it full of buoyancy and animation for the breakfast-table, returned pale, with ashy lips and uncertain .steps. It was comfort to me to watch the reckless haste with which they tore off their garments and plunged into their berths, where they lay groaning in a manner that would have been pitiable but for its being ludicrous. I had grown utterly callous, and felt a savage pleasure in knowing that there were others as uncomfortable, or nearly so, as myself. The three days that followed were a blank in my existence. Hour succeeded hour and brought with it no relief. It was blowing great guns all the time; and what between the rolling, pitching, and swinging of the vessel, the straining of her timbers, the vibration of the engine, and the howling of the wind, we had about as much torture concentrated into a compact space as any merely human imagination can conceive. But all aquatic, as well as all terrestrial things, even a rough sea-voyage, must come to an end, and so did ours, just as our coals were within a few shovelsfull of running out, and sundry wags were beginning to sport forlorn jokes about immolating and cooking the steward for lack of other provisions. If anything could have compensated me for the misery I had undergone, it would have been our disembarkation at Newhaven on a bright sunshiny morning. The change which the voyage had produced upon the passengers was miraculous, "a thing to dream of, not to tell." Pride, puppyism, and fine airs had all vanished, and the whole body were reduced to one common level of helplessness that seemed to say, | "Oh! you mean a square, narrow, brown leather thing?" inquired the urchin, in a voice of hateful indifference. "Yes, yes, exactly!" replied I. "With a handle over the top and a brass plate with the name of Mr. John Brown upon it?" "The very thing!" I exclaimed in rapture, thinking it was all safe. "And where is it?" "Oh! sir, the other gentleman's got it.' "The other gentleman! And who the devil is the other gentleman?" "Mr. John Brown, sir; him as got into your berth, you know. He went ashore when we cast anchor last night, and I remember seeing the steward take it on deck with the gentleman's other things." Confound that Mr. John Brown! he was doomed to be my annoyance at every turning! He had kept me in hot water ever since I started, and the very first move he makes in Scotland puts me to a nonplus, for in that portmanteau were my letter to old Smith and all my other introductions. It was of no use fretting, however. He surely would never think of appropriating my property. I should hear of it at the steamboat-office, no doubt, next day; and in this hope I drove up to the Crown Hôtel, where, after replenishing the vacancy which the fast of the last three days had occasioned, and putting myself into presentable attire, I called for a directory, to search for the whereabouts of my prospective father-inlaw, of which I knew no more than the man in the moon, having trusted to the direction upon my letter for that information. Among the interminable list of Smiths I found, at least, a score of David Smiths. One of these lived in Castle Street. "Castle Street, that is the place," said I, repeating the name, till I worked myself into the belief that I had heard it mentioned before as the residence of my father's friend. For Castle Street, accordingly, I made, and there found the house, which, to my discomfiture, was shut up. The brass plate was the colour of bronze, not having been scoured for weeks, and I was just able to decipher the name of Mr. David Smith upon it. A written placard in one of the windows intimated that letters and parcels were to be left at Mr. M'Grugar's, solicitor, 103 Queen Street, to whose chambers I proceeded to inquire whither Mr. Smith and his daughter had emigrated. Mr. M'Grugar was not at home, and I was ushered into a room where three of his clerks were seated. A hurried and scuffling sound, as if of desk-lids being slammed down, and of people jumping up upon stools, was heard as I approached the door, and when I entered, the youthful scriveners were driving their quills vehemently across the paper before them as if they were bent upon making a fortune at threepence a page. "Mr. M'Grugar is not at home, I believe?" said I. "No, sir, he is not. He is in Fifeshire at present on business of Lord Chowderhead's. Did you wish to see him particularly?" replied a raffish-looking youngster, with a dirty shirt and a breath that savoured strongly of "halfand-half," who looked altogether very much as if he had not been in bed the night before. Oh, no! nothing particular. Perhaps you can tell me what part of the country Mr. Smith of Castle Street is gone to?" Thomson, do you know where old Smith is just now?" said the youth in the foul linen to another youth with an immense shock of red hair and great owlish eyes, with which he had been staring at me over the top of the desk ever since I entered. “Od, I'm thinking he'll be some wye (way) doon about Ayrshire! He gangs there files (at times) in the summer time," returned Thomson in a strong Banffshire accent. "Ah, you're right; so it was," said the first speaker, turning to me once more. "I believe, sir, he is either in Roxburghshire or Ayrshire at present, and any letter addressed to him at either of these places will be sure to find him." This was definite information with a vengeance. Mr. M'Grugar's clerks, it was plain, knew as much about Mr. Smith's movements as they knew about law, so I inquired when their master was to return to town, and learning that this would not be till the end of the week, I left his chambers, resolving to make the most of my time in examining the localities of modern Athens and its environs till his return. [In an elegantly furnished drawing-room, that same evening, sat an old gentleman and his daughter. The lady was seated at the piano, and sang in a clear and most tuneful voice from a volume of Scottish melodies, while the old gentleman lay back in his easy chair, with eyes running over with tears of quiet joy, as he listened to the plaintive strains to which the beloved notes of his daughter's voice gave thrilling expression. The door opened, and the servant's announcement of "Mr. Brown" was followed by the entrance of that gentleman, who bowed gracefully to a fire-screen, which in the haze of twilight he mistook for the owner of the house. "My dear sir," said the old gentleman, starting forward and grasping him warmly by the hand, "I am very glad to see you-very glad, indeed. Julia, my dear, this is Mr. Brown that I mentioned to you. Mr. Brown, my daughter." Mr. Brown bowed again and mumbled the usual quantity of inarticulate nothings, and Miss Julia curtsied and blushed a great deal more than anybody in the room fancied. "And when did you come to town? We have been looking for you for some days," continued the old gentleman. The deuce you have! thought Mr. Brown, but he only answered, "We had a very tedious passage: left London on Wednesday, and only got here this morning. Four days of most intolerable bumping about. I hoped to have been here on Friday night, and am a good deal annoyed at the detention, as my stay will be proportionally curtailed. I must start again on Saturday next." Pooh, pooh, nonsense! We shan't let you for a month to come. Shall we, Julia?" "Oh, you are too kind!" replied Mr. Brown, wondering what on earth all this cordiality meant. "I have a letter for you here," he "Wasn't his last letter dated from Jed-off burgh?" broke in a shabby-looking, smokedried piece of humanity, who had hitherto been amusing himself with biting his nails. |