The falling cadences at the end of the piece, wonderfully expressive in the musical rendering, seem to tell a whole story of the glories that were, and are no more. To hear a song like this is almost to read a whole book that tells the tale of a mighty movement throbbing with life and aspiration.
And yet, despite its many virtues, despite its wonderful qualities of beauty, and simplicity, and depth, and truthfulness, Russian music has met with tragic fate on the road of its artistic development. Russian composers, like Russian men of letters, are compelled to wait a long time for their well-deserved triumph, both in Russia and outside of their native land. And sometimes recognition does not come until long after their death. While some European composers of fashionable music conquer the whole world with their productions almost before the ink on their manuscript is dry, Moussorgsky, Rimsky-Korsakov, Borodin, and even the father of Russian music, the great Glinka, waited many years for the appreciation which they so richly merited.
This may perhaps be explained by the fact that Russian creators of music are not possessed of commercial ability. A Russian composer, with few exceptions, will never dream of selling his opera before it is written. He is not looking for managers, and "orders" and royalties. He begins to create when he feels the impulse to do so, when his feelings and his thoughts blend together and clamor for expression. The possibilities of marketing his work seldom occur to him.
And during the process of creating, the composer literally forgets about himself and pays no heed to the things around him. Even when his work is done he is still in no hurry to offer it for sale. It is as if he were sorry to part with the product of his soul.
It is for this reason, perhaps, that so many composers in Russia die prematurely, long before their genius receives due recognition. Wasily Kalinnikov, in almost any one of whose short songs there is more feeling and genius than in many an opera popular to-day, died very young. Starvation, neglect, excessive labor,—these sum up the tale of his brief life. He died before a single one of his compositions was published, without hearing one of them played in public. It was only after his death that they were performed, with signal success.
Moussorgsky, whose musical genius, combined with the poetical inspiration of Pushkin, created the wonderful drama of "Boris Godounov," died in 1881. Yet it was not until twenty-
