impetuosity in feeling and passion, Both gentlemen were encored very cordially. The appearance of MUs Kellogg before the footlights, was the signal for a burst of applause, a spontaneous tribute to the beauty and grace of a lovely woman, and not £b the skill of the artiste, for aha had not as yet uttered a note, ilia* Kellogg was dressed in groat elegance and simplicity, wearing a pink silk, with long trail, the ovarskirt gathered into a pannier behind. The artiste possesses a pleasing-, face, an easy, graceful carriage, a form of * remarkable symmetry, the poise of the head and columnar neck, the bait that sculptors lav* to copy, and that belong to Nature’s singers, with a finely-rounded arm, whiter than snow and smooth as monumental alabaster. Indeed, Misa Kellogg is in the flush of youth, and such a creature a# tho old mythology pictures Hobo passing around nectar at the banquet of the gods. Miss Kellogg *eora-ed in excellent spirits, in good voice, and melody to well and bubble sweellj from hot heart. She is a bright, dear, delicious siuger.so to speak, bewitching and touching iu ballads, and in plain old song*, and from the few and brief specimens of bsr method, her style, bor range, sho can, we should think, reach higher and deeper. She can. sound the passions ns well as sport with the lighter sentiments, storming and weeping in tragic vales or heights, as well as dallying with rosebnd3 amid the twitter of birds in -a summer garden. Thors were at time# those burst* *f jubilation, peal on peal, flash on flash, that so astonish and delight, as when ahe sang ‘Tin alone.”“TJi« «ha ,e of mf soul wouid be chased away ! And xay heart would leap to tho glorious day.1’ 'There was occasionally that abandon of feeling,that “joy uncontrolled,” and which mocks imitation or artifice, that expression of vehement desire and longing, that spiritual expression that deno tee nnd proclaims tho truo lyric genius of tho opera, which is moit thrilling and triumphant in passages of a devotional or tragic character, with a prayer on tha lip or a poniard in the hand. And we taka special prids when our own country can produce such a child of song and achieve by the passion and the patience of genius such an artiste as Miss Kellogg. Years ago, the taunting teraatk was made by foreigners, “ Who reads an American book That day has long gone by. Tho star of Irviag, o! Cooper, rose to the zenith in the fkinaneatof letter*. What a brilliant constellation of American names do we now bohold, filling'tho world with light and lustre ! “ Who doei not read an American book ?” may now bo asked. Yes, and Americans have learned to paint, and carve and sing. Whose chisel is like Story's, or Mis* Hosmer’a ? Whoso Hamlet is like Booth's ? And we are glad that, treading down traditional boms prejudice, there acmes from cold New England a born sister of Carlotta Fatti, of Lind, and Nilsson, and now tho thorns ace flowers, upon which she step# in her career of heavenly song. We in this country have made tho fortun03 0f foreign artist#* not a few, and we ore glad that wo can now crown one of our own four country women who will in. the year? to come emancipate our tasta from foreign affectations, with an. equal, treneroa# golden measure of reward,Ecnaway Accides-i'—About eleven