[My father] proposed that I should begin on the viola, an instrument in size between the violin and bass; and, little chap as I was, I commenced with this enormous fiddle under my chin. Before I began to play, I felt something like one set in the pillory; and, on wagging my elbow, the contortions into which my body was thrown gave me infinitely more pain than pleasure. In this way I was punished for a quarter of a year, playing the 'Belleisle March,’ 'Saxe’s Minuet,’ and other delicious bits of this kind; and thankful was I, when set at liberty, to acquire again the right use of my limbs. After this failure, my mother bought me a piano-forte of German make, not much bigger than two writing-desks put together. Upon this I began with the lessons of Casper Heck, and the thorough-bass of Pasquali. As we had no masters in Leicester who could teach, I was obliged to hammer by myself, and, bad as it was, I might call it celestial music compared to my fiddling. << less