'Come, come; here's another ten guineas for your book. So, once more good-day t'ye.' (Descends again; and again comes up.) 'But what use is your book to me if I don't understand it? And your lute--you may take it again if you won't teach me to play on it. Come home with me and give me my first lesson.' 'I will come to-morrow.' 'You must come now.' 'I musht tress myshelf.' 'For what? You are the best figure I have seen to-day.' 'I musht be shave.' 'I honour your beard!' 'I musht bud on my wick.' 'D--n your wig! Your cap and beard become you. Do you think if Van Dyck was to paint you he'd let you be shaved?' "In this way he frittered away his musical talents, and though possessed of ear, taste, and genius, he never had application enough to learn his notes. He seemed to take the first step, the second was, of course, out of his reach, and the summit became unattainable." Gainsborough made many friends in Bath; mention has already been made of William Jackson of Exeter, with whom he was in constant correspondence, and many of the letters that passed between them are still in existence. He became friendly with David Garrick, whose portrait he painted several times, and another actor with whom he was on very intimate terms was John Henderson. He remained at Bath sixteen years, and it was probably his quarrel with Thicknesse which induced him to migrate once more in 1774. The true circumstances of his breaking with his earliest patron are not easy to unravel; as is usual in such cases there are two sides to the story, and the truth probably lies somewhere between the two. One fact stands out clearly, namely, that there never was any considerable friendship between Thicknesse and Mrs. Gainsborough; each was probably jealous of the other's ascendency over the artist, and the Governor in his account of their differences makes her appear as the instigator of Gainsborough's behaviour towards himself, and lays practically all the responsibility at her door.