d in all
large symphonic works of the classic and modern school. For a
magnificent example of the climactic effect produced by a Stretto,
witness the last part of Bach's Fugue in G major (see Supplement, Ex.
No. 16).

Although there is considerable complexity in any complete fugue, and
although it requires great concentration on the part of the listener,
we should avoid thinking of the form as mechanical in any derogatory
sense, but rather as a means to a definite artistic end. Certainly no
greater mistake can be made than that of considering Bach, the supreme
master of polyphonic writing, as too austere, too involved, for the
delight and edification of every-day mortals. Bach means brook, and
the name[41] is most appropriate; for Bach is a never ceasing stream
of musical life, the fountain-head from which spring the leading
tendencies of modern music. In these days when stress is laid on the
romantic element in music, on warm emotional appeal, it is well to
consider the quality so prevalent in Bach of spiritual vitality.
Exactly because the romantic element represents the human side of
music, it is subject to the whims of fashion and is liable to change
and decay. Bach carries us into the realm of universal ideas,
inexhaustible and changeless in their power to exalt. Schumann says
that "Music owes to Bach what a religion owes to its founder"; and it
is true that a knowledge of Bach is the beginning of musical wisdom.
By some, Bach is considered dry or too reserved for companionship with
ordinary human beings. Others carelessly assert that he has no melody.
Nothing can be further from the truth than these two misconceptions.
Bach surely is not dry, because his work abounds in such vitality of
rhythm. As Parry says, in his biography, "No composer ever attained to
anything approaching the spontaneity, freshness, and winsomeness of
his dances, such as the gavottes, bourrees, passepieds and gigues in
the suites; while many of his great choruses and instrumental fugues
are inspired with a force of rhythmic movement which thrills the
hearer with a feeling of being swept into space out of the range of
common things." The charge of a lack of melody is the same which used
to be brought against Wagner. Instead of there being no melody, it is
_all_ melody, so that the partially musical, who lack the power of
sustained attention, are drowned in the flood of melodic outpouring. A
strong claim, in fact, may be made for Bach as a _po