The programme was popular in its character and each piece was given with unexpected effect. The concert was opened at half past two by the performance of Von Weber’s Jubilee Overture by the orchestra under the direction of Mr. Harold, the conductor of the festival. This was followed by a chorus for men’s voices by the united singing societies of the State. Next the orchestra and military bands gave a selection of national airs and at the end the chorus and the entire audience rose and sang “My country ’tis of Thee.” The chorus, organ and orchestra then united to give the chorus “Night shades no longer,” from Moses in Egypt, which was given in a skillful and effective manner. A chorus of men’s voices from “Eurianthe” with horn obligato was next performed and then came the Anvil Chorus, with chorus, bands, orchestra, organ, battery and all the bells in the city united for accompaniment. It was an event in its way and the irrepressible enthusiasm peculiar to the Californians found vent in cheers and the waving of hats, handkerchiefs and whatever was in hand. Certainly Madam Urso had never in her whole experience seen such enthusiasm and she may have well wondered if it was not all some strange, fantastic dream. The band gave a selection from “Tannhauser” and then the concert closed with the “Star Spangled Banner” given with cannon, big drum, church bells, organ and great chorus. The concert on the second day was honored with an audience of fifteen thousand persons, the largest assembly that had ever met in California. The programme began with the overture to “Ali Baba” which was followed by the “Gloria,” from Mozart’s Twelfth Mass. Then the orchestra gave two movements from the symphony in C, by Gade. “Sleepers wake,” from St. Paul, and the “Prayer,” from “Moses in Egypt,” were next given in such a superior manner by the chorus, that the last number won an encore. At this point Madam Urso appeared and met with a reception that for wild enthusiasm and fervor has probably never been exceeded by any concert audience. The very proper coldness and passiveness of Eastern audiences finds small favor beyond the mountains. The fifteen thousand people met under that roof tendered her an ovation the like of which has probably never been given to any artist in the world. Respect and love for the woman who had done so much for them, admiration for her genius, and gratitude for her splendid efforts in behalf of the Mercantile Association roused the people to a pitch of excitement almost past belief. For a few moments it seemed as if they would never cease cheering, nor stop piling the mountains of flowers at her feet.