"Mr. Forrest made his first appearance on our boards on Monday last, in the part of Othello. Mr. Forrest possesses a fine person, an excellent thing in either man or woman; but, though this has been much dwelt upon by the London critics, it is but a very minor affair when speaking of such a man as Mr. Forrest. He carries himself with exceeding grace and dignity, and his tread is easy and majestic: he dresses with taste and magnificence. The picture which he presented of the Moor was one of the most perfect which we have witnessed. He gave us to see, like Desdemona, 'Othello's visage in his mind,' of which he furnished us with a beautiful and highly-finished portrait. Not content with acting each scene well, he gave us a consistent transcript of the whole matter. Each succeeding scene was in strict keeping with those that had preceded it, showing that the actor had grasped the whole plot from beginning to end, and that, from commencement to catastrophe, he had embodied himself into strict identity with the person represented. His early scenes were distinguished by a quiet and calm dignity of demeanor, which, concomitant with the deepest tenderness of feeling, and a high tone of manliness, he seems to have conceived the basis of the Moor's character. In his address to the Senate, this dignified self-possession, and a sense of what was due to himself, he made particularly conspicuous. As the interest of the tragedy advanced, we saw, with exceeding pleasure, that Mr. Forrest was determined to depend for success upon the precept set forth by Shakspeare, 'To hold the mirror up to nature.' With proper confidence in his own powers, he disdained to overstep the prescribed bound for the sake of producing effects equally at variance with nature and heterodox to good taste. In the scene where he quells the drunken brawl, his acting throughout was strikingly impressive of reality. Some of his ideas were novel, and beautifully accordant with the tone of the character which he wished to develop. Such was his recitation of the passage,-- 'Silence that dreadful bell! it frights the isle From her propriety.' From the general group he turned to a single attendant who stood at his elbow, and delivered the command in a subdued tone, as though it were not intended for the ear of the multitude. This, though effective, was judicious, and not overstrained. His dismissal of Cassio was equally illustrative of the spirit to which we have alluded. The audience testified their approbation by a loud burst of applause. The final scene with Iago was beautifully played: the gradual workings of his mind from calmness to jealousy were displayed with striking effect. The transitions of emotion in the following splendid passage were finely marked: