[Thomas Cooper had become a member of a new Choral Society in Lincoln]

They made me their secretary; and my head went to work to make the music of the Choral Society worth hearing in old cathedralled Lincoln.

I planned, I visited, I wooed, I entreated, till I obtained the aid and co-operation of the best musicians and the best singers in the ancient city.  Like every true reformer, I had to put down the authority of the imperfect, and put the authoritative perfect in its place.  Over the company of raw amateurs―despite some grumbling―I succeeded in placing the most perfect “singer at sight,” and most thoroughly experienced person in the music of Handle, to be found in the whole city, as conductor; the best violinist in the city, as leader; the best alto and tenor singers in the city, as leaders of their parts in the choruses, and as principal solo singers; the best violoncello player in Lincoln, as leader on his instrument; while I also secured the aid of an experienced trumpeter.  We already had the aid of a good double-bass player, who was also a sound timist.  […]

[Cooper successfully sought patronage for the society’s concerts] and the incumbent of the most central church in the city granted us the use of it for our public concerts of sacred music.  Mr. Whall, the most thoroughly competent organist in Lincoln, presided at the organ; and, before a crowded audience, the transcendent “Messiah,” the noble “Dettingen Te Deum,” the brilliant and warlike “Judas Maccabaeus,” the gorgeous “Solomon,” the sublime “Israel in Egypt,” and other oratorios of Handel were performed with an enthusiasm that had never before been witnessed in Lincoln.  The “Creation” of Haydn, and scattered choral pieces of Mozart and Beethoven, were also given.

Nor was the solo singing of a mean character.  Our conductor, George Brooke, of the cathedral choir, would have attracted admiration, as a bass singer of great original powers of expression, and great capability of execution, with the most critical audience in the kingdom.  The tenor singing of dear departed Charles Ashton―a universal favourite in Lincoln―was the sweetest I ever heard, except Braham’s.  Mr. Knowles, our alto solo singer, was not only a very pleasing vocalist, but a competent musician; and is, at the moment I write, a member of the choir in St. George’s Chapel, Windsor.

[…]

What mad enthusiasm I felt for music!  I often sat up the greater part of a night to transact the writing necessary for the furtherance of the prosperity of that Choral Society.  […]  The enjoyment―the rapture―I had in listening to the music, was more than a reward for whatever time I gave to the society, or interest I sacrificed for it.