In September, 1774, a grand music meeting took place at Leicester, under the auspices of Mr. Cradock, of Gumley, for the benefit of the Leicester Infirmary. This was the largest assemblage of musicians that had ever taken place in the country. The band was led by the celebrated Giardini, and the choruses were supported by Mr. Commissioner Bates, at the organ. I was then but four years and a half old, and well recollect being taken into the orchestra by my father. On seeing Lord Sandwich beat the kettle-drums, I took my station as near to him as I could. The grandeur of the sound, added to the display which he made in flourishing his ruffles and drum-sticks, mightily pleased me. The loudest sounds first arrest the attention: I was riveted to the spot, and was so captivated with his Lordship’s performance, that for a time I heard but little else. When the music ceased, and the service of the church proceeded, the eyes of the congregation were fixed on a tall black man in a singular dress. It was the savage, Omai, whom Captain Cook had just brought from the Sandwich Isles. He stood up all the time, in wild amazement at what was going on, for he had been brought down on purpose to see what effect this grand crash of musical sounds would have upon him. << less