The other morning I was invited to Renaudet’s to hear a famous harpsichord player of Bristol - one [Robert] Broderip, a man fit to have play’d at the taking of Bellisle [Belle Isle]; of so rude a touch that you find yourself involuntarily stealing away from him while he is playing, lest the flying to pieces of the harpsichord & frame, which you expect every moment, shd. break a leg, or knock your eye out. Indeed it is hardly safe to be in the same room with him when he is playing. Fire & spirit make his essence of music. As for taste, or delicacy, or cantabile — poor man!