After his second trip to London was over, Haydn returned to Austria, dividing his time between Vienna and Esterhaz, where he was again made music-director. Getting now to be an old man, he lived quietly, making few public appearances. He composed at this time his famous Austrian National Hymn, as well as his two oratorios, “The Creation” and “The Seasons,” produced respectively in 1798 and in 1801. In 1803 he made his final appearance as a conductor, and in 1808 he appeared in public for the last time. The occasion was a performance of “The Creation.” “All the great artists of Vienna were present,” says Mr. Hadden, “among them Beethoven and Hummel. Prince Esterhazy had sent his carriage to bring the veteran to the hall, and as he was being conveyed in an arm-chair to a place among the princes and nobles, the whole audience rose to their feet in testimony of their regard. It was a cold night, and ladies sitting near swathed him in their costly wraps and lace shawls. The concert began, and the audience was hushed to silence. When that magnificent passage was reached, ‘And there was light,’ they burst into loud applause, and Haydn, overcome with excitement, exclaimed: ‘Not I, but a Power from above created that.’ The performance went on, but it proved too much for the old man, and friends arranged to take him home at the end of the first part. As he was being carried out, some of the highest in the land crowded round to take what was felt to be a last farewell; and Beethoven bent down and fervently kissed his hand and forehead. Having reached the door, Haydn asked his bearers to pause and turn him towards the orchestra. Then, lifting his hand, as if in the act of blessing, he was borne out into the night.” Near the end of May, 1809, Haydn began to fail rapidly. On the twenty-sixth, gathering his household and having himself carried to the piano, he played over three times his “Emperor’s Hymn,” with great emotion. Five days later he died. The curious admixture of kindliness and practical good sense which give to Haydn’s character such an individual charm appear even in his will, a long and detailed document very precisely drawn up. He bequeaths “To poor blind Adam in Eisenstadt, 24 florins”; “To my gracious Prince, my gold Parisian medal and the letter that accompanied it, with a humble request to grant them a place in the museum at Forchtenstein”; “To Fräulein Bucholz, 100 florins. Inasmuch as in my youth her grandfather lent me 150 florins when I greatly needed them, which, however, I repaid fifty years ago.” After many other bequests he concludes; “I commend my soul to my all-merciful Creator; my body I wish to be interred, according to the Roman Catholic forms, in consecrated ground.”