k inspiration from the works of
men who combined in their compositions all that the great previously
existing schools had taught. Bach was never weary of learning if
perchance he could attain a more lucid or more beautiful expression of
his thought. We have, then, this enthusiasm, this capacity for at once
discerning what was best. Add to it one more quality--the religious, in
its best sense, which young Bach possessed to the uttermost, the feeling
that his art was but the medium of expression for the deep things of
God--and we have the equipment with which the young musician started on
his quest.

Young Bach had received no great instruction in the schools of
composition. That which he had he gathered with a catholicity of taste
from all the renowned masters. Not one of his immediate ancestors had
stirred beyond the confines of their simple home. Well for him was it
so. No late meretricious Neapolitan tinsel could exist in the quiet,
calm beauty of his Thuringian dwelling-place. Nature lay before him.
"Come," she said, "seek to understand me. I have treasures that ye know
not of, treasures that can only be gathered by the pure in heart and
patient in spirit. Here around you, in your quiet German home, are the
elements of all your strength. Here there is no distraction. Riches
shall not allure you. Honorable poverty shall minister to your purity";
and young Bach knew that the voice was true, and, heeding it, there came
to him likewise an inner voice, relating spiritual things, even as the
voice of Nature related natural things.

Comprehending, then, his character, we pass on. His work at this period
was formal. He felt, but could not express. But at Lubeck the
noble-hearted Buxtehude was endeavoring to bring home to the hearts of
the people the mission of music. Bach went thither. Fascinated by the
grand organ-playing of the Lubeck master, and listening with heart-felt
love to those memorable concerts of which we have previously spoken,
Bach forgot both time and engagements. When he returned to Arnstadt,
the spirit of Buxtehude was upon him. Henceforth the quiet people of
Arnstadt knew no rest. Variations, subtle, beautiful, a refined and
fuller contrapuntal treatment, mingled with the chorale. The
conservatism of Arnstadt received a severe shock--a dreadful experience,
doubtless, to the quiet German town. Such genius could come to no good
end, and so the consistory and Bach agreed to part.

Bach had married in Octob