The great work which he had so much at heart was “Kunst der Fuge” (“The Art of Fugue”), a wonderful creation, unsurpassed in the abundance of its contents and their development. In completely elaborated numbers, not in dry theoretical rules, he shows what a skilful composer may accomplish with a single theme, and how it may be developed in the form and according to the rules of strict counterpoint in every possible way. So far as harmonious combinations are concerned, each part is exhaustively treated.[50] In the closing fugue, beside the two parts of the original theme, he introduces a short but very striking theme of only four notes; but those four notes represent the whole life of the composer, with all its joys and sorrows, its divine inspiration, and its deep soul-sadness—the four notes, “B-A-C-H.”[51]
Bach’s labor upon this colossal work exhausted what little strength he had. His eyesight began to fail. His creative faculty was impaired. He could no longer work. The “Art of Fugue” remained unfinished. Philipp Emanuel added to the last bars of his father’s manuscript the sad words:
“While engaged on this fugue, in which the name of ‘Bach’ is introduced in counterpoint, the author died.”
It was true. The old master did not live to finish the work. The end was near at hand. Two operations were performed upon his eyes, but they failed to help him. His life passed into darkness before death.
But he never lost courage. His spiritual vision remained clear to the last, so that he beheld the glory of his God whom he was so soon to meet. In those last days, so full of pain and of sorrow over the thought that he might lose his faculties completely, he triumphed over sickness and death with the help of that lofty, unwavering faith which had been the inspiration of all his work. Almost with his dying voice he dictated to his beloved Altnikol the majestic chorale (“Wenn wir in höchsten Nöthen sein”):
“When, sunk in deepest misery,
To make escape we vainly try,
When earthly help in vain is sought,
And earthly counsels come to nought,
There still remains this one relief—