In 1794, Haydn departed on his second journey to London under contract to Salomon to compose six new symphonies. Prince Anton parted unwillingly with him and died three days after. The success of the previous visit was repeated, and his reception was even still more fervent and enthusiastic. Toward the end of this stay he was much distinguished by the Court. At a concert at York House, the King and Queen, the Princesses, the Prince of Wales, and the Dukes of Clarence and Gloucester were present, and the Prince of Wales presented Haydn to the King. Both the King and Queen urged him to remain in England and pass the summer at Windsor; but Haydn replied that he could not abandon Prince Esterhazy, and beside, the Prince had already written that he wished to reorganize his chapel with Haydn as conductor. He returned to his native land, his powers still further developed, his fame increased and his fortune enlarged. By concerts, lessons and symphonies he made twelve thousand florins ($6000) enough, added to what he already possessed, to give him no further anxiety for the future. Again was his welcome home marked by the most demonstrative cordiality. From this time out there is but little to relate except to repeat the story of his industry and his musical fecundity, until the culmination of his artistic career was reached in the works of his old age, "The Creation" and "The Seasons." The success of both was enormous, and he composed very little after the latter work. His health began to fail, and he laid it at the door of "The Seasons." He said, "I should never have undertaken it. It gave me the finishing stroke." He lived in comparative seclusion, and only once more appeared in public, the occasion being a performance of "The Creation." He was then seventy-six years of age. As he entered the concert room he was saluted by a fanfare of trumpets and the cheers of the audience. His excitement was so great that it was thought advisable to take him home at the end of the first part. As he was borne out friends and pupils surrounded him to take leave. Beethoven was present, and bent down to kiss the old man's hands and forehead. All animosities were soothed in that last hour of triumph; the crowning moment and the close of a great master's career. When Haydn reached the door he urged his bearers to pause and turn him face toward the orchestra. Then he raised his hands as if in benediction, and in a long, lingering glance bade farewell to the art to which he had been devoted since the time when, as a boy, he hoarded his florins to purchase the precious volume of Fux, which he placed under his pillow when he slept, down to this pathetic culminating moment.