f May the composer conducted a grand public performance
at the Redoutensaal. The work proved almost as successful as "The
Creation." Haydn was enraptured with it, but he was never really himself
again. As he said, it gave him the finishing stroke.

CHAPTER VIII. LAST YEARS

Failing Strength--Last Works--A Scottish Admirer--Song
Accompaniments--Correspondence with George Thomson--Mrs Jordan--A
Hitch--A "Previous" Letter of Condolence--Eventide--Last Public
Appearance--The End--Funeral Honours--Desecration of Remains.

Failing Strength

Little is left to be told of the years which followed the production of
"The Seasons." Haydn never really recovered from the strain which that
last great effort of his genius had entailed. From his letters and the
reminiscences of his friends we can read only too plainly the story of
his growing infirmity. Even in 1799 he spoke of the diminution of his
mental powers, and exclaimed: "Oh, God! how much yet remains to be done
in this splendid art, even by a man like myself!" In 1802 he wrote of
himself as "a gradually decaying veteran," enjoying only the feeble
health which is "the inseparable companion of a gray-haired man
of seventy." In December 1803 he made his last public exertion by
conducting the "Seven Words" for the hospital fund at the Redoutensaal,
and shortly afterwards wrote sadly of his "very great weakness." In 1804
he was asked to direct a performance of "The Creation," but declined
on the score of failing strength. Gradually he withdrew himself almost
entirely from the outside world, his general languor broken only by the
visits of friends and by moods of passing cheerfulness. Cherubini,
the Abbe Vogler, Pleyel, the Weber family, Hummel, Reichardt, and many
others came to see him. Visits from members of the Esterhazy family gave
him much pleasure. Mozart's widow also brought her son Wolfgang, to beg
his blessing on the occasion of his first public concert in April 1805,
for which he had composed a cantata in honour of Haydn's seventy-third
birthday. But the homage of friends and admirers could not strengthen
the weak hands or confirm the feeble knees. In 1806 Dies notes that his
once-gleaming eye has become dull and heavy and his complexion sallow,
while he suffers from "headache, deafness, forgetfulness and other
pains." His old gaiety has completely gone, and even his friends have
become a bore to him. "My remaining days," he said to Dies, "must all be
spent in this