He shut himself up in his room with his Shakspeare. He studied the part with all the earnestness of his soul, over and over, with every light he could bring to bear upon it, carefully perfected himself in it according to his best ideal, and impatiently awaited the evening. It came, and found a house poor in numbers, which disheartened him not a whit. Durang was there, and has described the scene. The audience, though neither fashionable nor large, was eager and susceptible. As the actor came on, his careful costume, superb form, and reposeful bearing made a strong sensation on the expectant auditory. And when the sweet, resonant tones of his deep, rich voice broke forth in the eloquence of an unaffected manliness, the charm was obviously deepened. His remarkable self-possession and deliberate way of doing just what he intended to do were very impressive, and, combined with his terrible earnestness growing with the thickening plot, took hold of the sympathies of the house more and more powerfully. In the middle of the pit sat Gilfert, energetically plying his snuff-box and inspecting alternately the player and the spectators. And when, in the fourth act, as the pent flood of passion in the breast of the tortured Othello burst in fearful explosion on Iago in one resplendent climax of attitude, look, voice and gesture, and the whole audience rose to their feet and gave vent to their unprecedented excitement in round after round of cheering, the little Dutchman let his snuff-box mechanically slip through his fingers, and cried, "By heaven, he has made a hit!" The popular verdict was one of unqualified enthusiasm, and the directors and manager of the Bowery felt that they had underrated their prize. Gilfert hurried behind the scenes, lavishing congratulations on his protégé, and promising the next day to pay his debts and supply him with some pocket-money. In doing a kind thing for a needy fellow-actor, Forrest found that he had also done an exceedingly good thing for himself. With the means he had wrung from the delinquent and doubtful but now sanguine Gilfert, he proceeded to Albany and redeemed his wardrobe. He then went to Washington, and played Rolla for the benefit of his brother William. He next fulfilled an engagement as a Star for six nights in Baltimore, and then paid a visit to his home in Philadelphia. He was able from the remnant of his earnings to carry four hundred dollars to his mother. And when he gave it to her, sitting happy at her feet, and told her of his trials, and of his struggles against them, as he felt her hand on his head and saw her fond eyes looking approval, the sweetness of the satisfaction seemed to sink into his very bones. So he himself said, and added, "The applause I had won before the foot-lights? Yes, it was most welcome and precious to me; but, compared with this, it was nothing, less than nothing!"