rim' revis'd. This gentle character happily became that want
of confidence which is inseparable from young beginners, who, without
it, seldom arrive to any excellence. Notwithstanding, I own I was then
so far deceiv'd in my opinion of her, that I thought she had little
more in her person that appeared necessary to the forming a good
actress; for she set out with so extraordinary a diffidence, that it
kept her too despondingly down to a formal, plain, (not to say)flat
manner of speaking."

[Footnote A: "An Apology for the Life of Mr. Colley Cibber."]

How strange it seems, as we peer back behind the scenes of history,
to think of a theatrical _debutante_ rejoicing in an extraordinary
diffidence. "Rather a cynical remark, isn't it?" the reader may ask.
Well, perhaps it is, but these are piping times of advertising, when
even genius has been known to employ a press agent.

Nance Oldfield may have been almost mute for a twelvemonth, yet more
than a few feminine novices, Anno Domino 1898, would never be
content to remain silent; not only must they make a noise behind the
footlights, but they feel it incumbent to be heard in the newspapers
as well. Any dramatic editor could tell a weary tale of the
importunities of a progressive young lady who wants to enlighten
an aching public at least six times a week as to the number of her
dresses, the colour of her hair, and the attention of her admirers.
There is a blessed consolation in all this: the female with the
trousseau, the champagned locks and the notoriety lasts no longer
than the butterfly, and her place is soon taken by the girl who never
bothers about the paragraphs, because she is sure to get them.

To return to the more congenial subject of Oldfield, it is strange
that so shrewd a Thespian as Cibber (who seems to have been clever in
all things but poetry) was so long in coming to a real appreciation of
her genius. He is manly enough to confess that not even the silvery
tone of that honeyed voice could, "'till after some time incline my
ear to any hope in her favour." "But public approbation," he tells us,
"is the warm weather of a theatrical plant, which will soon bring it
forward to whatever perfection nature has design'd it. However, Mrs.
Oldfield (perhaps for want of fresh parts) seem'd to come but slowly
forward 'till the year 1703." So slowly had she come forward indeed,
that in 1702, Gildon, a now forgotten critic and dramatist, included
her among the "meer Rub