More famous than his master is Smetana’s pupil Dvorak (1841-1904), yet the latter seems to have had little real vocation for the stage.  His operas, ‘Der Bauer ein Schelm’ and ‘Der Dickschaedel,’ appear to follow the style of Smetana very closely.  They have been favourably received in Bohemia, but the thoroughly national sentiment of the libretti must naturally militate against their success elsewhere.

In Russia the development of opera, and indeed of music generally, is of comparatively recent date.  Glinka (1803-1857), the founder of the school, is still perhaps its most famous representative, although his operas, in spite of frequent trials, seem never to succeed beyond the frontiers of Russia.  The splendid patriotism of ‘Life for the Czar’ (1836), his most famous work, endears him to the hearts of his countrymen.  The scene of the opera is laid in the seventeenth century, when the Poles held Moscow and the fortunes of Russia were at the lowest ebb.  Michael Fedorovich Romanov has just been elected Czar, and upon him the hopes of the people are centred.  The Poles are determined to seize the person of the Czar, and some of them, disguised as ambassadors, summon the peasant Ivan Sussaninna to guide them to his retreat.  Ivan sacrifices his life for his master.  He despatches his adopted son to warn the Czar, and himself leads the Poles astray in the wild morasses of the country.  When they discover that they have been betrayed they put Ivan to death, but not before he has had the satisfaction of knowing that the Czar is in safety.  The opera ends with the triumphal entry of the Czar into Moscow.

‘Russian and Ludmila’ (1858), Glinka’s second work, is founded upon a fantastic Russian legend of magic and necromancy.  It has not the national and patriotic interest of ‘Life for the Czar,’ but as music it deserves to rank higher.  Berlioz thought very highly of it.  Nevertheless it may be doubted whether, at this time of day, there is any likelihood of Glinka becoming popular in Western Europe.  Glinka had an extraordinary natural talent, and had he lived in closer touch with the musical world, he might have become one of the great composers of the century.  Melody he had in abundance, and his feeling for musical form is strong, though only partially developed.  He had little dramatic instinct, and it is singular that he should be known principally as a composer for the stage.  His treatment of the orchestra is brilliant and effective, but the national element in his music is the signe particulier of his style.  He rarely used actual Russian folk-tunes, but his music is coloured throughout by the plaintive melancholy of the national type.  A composer, whose music smells so strongly of the soil, can scarcely expect to be appreciated abroad.

Dargomishky (1813-1869) and Serov (1818-1871) are unfamiliar names to Englishmen.  The former during his lifetime was content to follow in the steps of Glinka, but his opera, ‘The Marble Guest,’ a treatment of the story of Don Juan, which was produced after his death, broke entirely fresh ground.  This work is completely modern in thought and expression, and may be regarded as the foundation of modern Russian opera.  Serov was an enthusiastic imitator of Wagner, and even his own countrymen admit that his works have little musical value.