The childishness with which he sings his own praises in his letters is quite remarkable. And Serov had actually proved himself a gifted composer but not a genius of the first order." It would be easy to find harsher critics of Serov's operas than Tchaikovsky, but his opinion reflects on the whole that of the majority of those who had felt the fascination of _Judith_ and been disillusioned by the later works. If _Judith_ had remained the solitary and belated offspring of Serov's slow maturity it is doubtful whether his reputation would have suffered. But there is no age at which a naturally vain man cannot be intoxicated by the fumes of incense offered in indiscriminate quantities. The extraordinary popular success of _Judith_ showed Serov the short cut to fame. The autumn of the same year which witnessed its production saw him hard at work upon a second opera. The subject of _Rogneda_ is borrowed from an old Russian legend dealing with the time of Vladimir, "the Glorious Sun," at the moment of conflict between Christianity and Slavonic paganism. _Rogneda_ was not written to a ready-made libretto, but, in Serov's own words, to a text adapted piecemeal "as necessary to the musical situations." It was completed and staged in the autumn of 1865. We shall look in vain in _Rogneda_ for the higher purpose, the effort at psychological delineation, the comparative solidity of workmanship which we find in _Judith_. Nevertheless the work amply fulfilled its avowed intention to take the public taste by storm. Once more I will quote Tchaikovsky, who in his writings has given a good deal of space to the consideration of Serov's position in the musical world of Russia. He says: "The continued success of _Rogneda_, and the firm place it holds in the Russian repertory, is due not so much to its intrinsic beauty as to the subtle calculation of effects which guided its composer.... The public of all nations are not particularly exacting in the matter of æsthetics; they delight in sensational effects and violent contrasts, and are quite indifferent to deep and original works of art unless the _mise-en-scène_ is highly coloured, showy, and brilliant. Serov knew how to catch the crowd; and if his opera suffers from poverty of melodic inspiration, want of organic sequence, weak recitative and declamation, and from harmony and instrumentation which are crude and merely decorative in effect--yet what sensational effects the composer succeeds in piling up! Mummers who are turned into geese and bears; real horses and dogs, the touching episode of Ruald's death, the Prince's dream made actually visible to our eyes; the Chinese gongs made all too audible to our ears, all this--the outcome of a recognised poverty of inspiration--literally crackles with startling effects. Serov, as I have said, had only a mediocre gift, united to great experience, remarkable intellect, and extensive erudition; therefore it is not surprising to find in _Rogneda_ numbers--rare oases in a