Thomas, the famous musical small-coal man, was born at Higham Ferrers in Northamptonshire. He served his time in London, where he set up in a stable, next door to the little gate of St John of Jerusalem, on Clerkenwell-green, which he converted into a house. Here getting acquainted with Dr Garnciers, his near neighbour, he became an excellent chemist, constructing a moveable laboratory which was much admired by all who saw it. His skill in music was nowise inferior to that in chemistry, either in the theory or practice; he had for many years a well-frequented musical club, meeting at his own little cell; and was as well respected as known by persons of the first quality; being, above all, a valuable man in his moral character. In Ward's account of clubs, we are told that "Britton's was first begun, or at least confirmed, by Sir Roger L'Estrange, a very musical gentleman; and that the attachment of Sir Roger and other ingenious gentlemen, lovers of the muses, to Britton, arose from the profound regard he had in general to all manner of literature. It is observable, that this meeting was the first of the kind, and the undoubted parent of some of the most celebrated concerts in London. Ward, who was his contemporary, says, that at the first institution of it, his concert was performed in his own house, which is thus described. "On the ground floor was a repository for small coal: over that was the concert-room, which was very long and narrow; and had a ceiling so low, that a tall man could but just stand upright in it. The stairs to this room were on the outside of the house, and could scarcely be ascended without crawling. The house itself was very old and low built, and in every respect so mean as to be a fit habitation..." bition only for a very poor man." But this mansion, defpicable as it was, attracted it to as polite an audience as ever the opera did. At those concerts Dr Pepusch, Mr Handel, Mr Bannister, Mr Henry Needle, and other capital masters, were performers. At the first institution of this club, it is certain Britton would receive no gratuity whatever from his guests, and was offended whenever any was offered him. According to some, however, he departed from this; and the rules were, Britton found the instruments, the subscription was 10s. a-year, and they had coffee at a penny a dish. The singularity of his character, the course of his studies and the collections he made, induced suspicions that Britton was not the man he seemed to be. Among other groundless conjectures, his musical assembly was thought by some to be only a cover for seditious meetings; by others for magical purposes: and Britton himself was taken for an atheist, a presbyterian, a Jesuit, &c. The circumstances of this man's death are not less remarkable than those of his life. There lived at that time one Samuel Honeyman, a blacksmith by trade, who became very famous for a faculty which he possessed of speaking as if his voice proceeded from some distant part of the house where he stood; in short, he was one of those men called Ventiloquists*, i.e., those who speak from their bellies. One Robe, an acquaintance of Britton's, was foolish enough to introduce this man, unknown to Britton, for the sole purpose of terrifying him; and he succeeded in it. Honeyman, without moving his lips, or seeming to speak, announced, as from afar off, the death of Britton within a few hours; with an intimation that the only way to avert his doom was for him to fall on his knees immediately and say the Lord's prayer: the poor man did as he was bid, went home and took to his bed, and in a few days died, leaving his friend Mr Robe to enjoy the fruits of his mirth. This happened in September 1714. Britton left behind him a large collection of books, music, and musical instruments. Of the former Sir Hans Sloane was a considerable purchaser. His collection of music, mostly pricked by himself, and very neatly, sold for near 100l. In the British Museum there is a painting of him taken from the life. A mezzotinto print was taken from this picture, for which Mr Hughes (author of the siege of Damascus, and a frequent performer at Britton's concerts) wrote the following lines:

Tho' mean thy rank, yet in thy humble cell Did gentle peace and arts unpurchas'd dwell; Well pleas'd, Apollo thither led his train, And music warbled in her sweetest strain. Cylenius, so, as fables tell, and Jove, Came willing guests to poor Philémon's grove. Let useless pomp behold, and blush to find So low a station, such a lib'ral mind.