st the stage box." He was in
the stage box then, and therefore a privileged person at the theatre. His
uncle, "Dr. Slammer," no doubt was thus complimented as being "in Her
Majesty's service." "Of course," he goes on, "the town had shrunk
fearfully since I was a child there."

The description of the outlaw drama which Nicholas Nickleby saw on the
night of his arrival is exactly in the key of the account of the
performance of "Richard III." just given: also the account of the London
manager, who was in the boxes; still more so when Mr. Crummles and all
the company _died at him_. And as in Nickleby we have "the Comic
Countryman" who so inopportunely caught a bluebottle when Mrs. Crummles
was making her great point for the London Manager: so in the account of
Dullborough we are told of "the _Funny_ Countryman" who sustained the
comic, bucolic parts. This alone would show that the Rochester and
Portsmouth Theatres were the same, while the beautiful young lady in the
white apron performed the same sort of characters that Miss Bravassa, or
Miss Snivelicci did.

And in this connection may be supplied a further speculation which is
interesting. In _Boz's_ earlier works it is plain that he relies for his
most striking effects of character on his own recollections and personal
observations. They might be considered passages from his autobiography.
I have thought that much in "Nickleby" of Nicholas's career and
Nicholas's own character was drawn from himself. Nicholas suggests Boz
in appearance, in his spirit and vehemence, and in some of his
adventures. Some years ago a remarkable letter appeared in the papers,
in which Dickens, then a mere youth, made an application to one of the
managers, Mr. Webster I think, for a situation in his theatre. He wanted
to go on the stage. Was not this like Nicholas? This desire was surely
founded on intimate acquaintance with the boards and amateur experience.

"I had entertained the impression," he goes on, "that the High Street was
as wide as Regent Street--I found it little better than a lane. There
was a public clock in it which I had supposed to be the finest clock in
the world, whereas it now turned out to be _as inexpressive_, _moon-faced
and weak_ a clock as ever I saw." The Town Hall was a "mean little brick
heap, like a demented chapel."

II.--The Bull

Jingle, it will be recollected, on the party arriving at the Bull, gave
that Inn the highest praise, recommend