, blue-silk breeches," which Mr.
Filby had provided for the evening of the production of the comedy, he
now had another suit "lined with silk, and gold buttons," that he
might appear in proper guise. Then he had his airs of consequence too.
This was his answer to an invitation from Kelly, who was his rival of
the hour: "I would with pleasure accept your kind invitation, but to
tell you the truth, my dear boy, my _Traveller_ has found me a home in
so many places, that I am engaged, I believe, three days. Let me see.
To-day I dine with Edmund Burke, to-morrow with Dr. Nugent, and the
next day with Topham Beauclerc; but I'll tell you what I'll do for
you, I'll dine with you on Saturday." Kelly told this story as against
Goldsmith; but surely there is not so much ostentation in the reply.
Directly after _Tristram Shandy_ was published, Sterne found himself
fourteen deep in dinner engagements: why should not the author of the
_Traveller_ and the _Vicar_ and the _Good-natured Man_ have his
engagements also? And perhaps it was but right that Mr. Kelly, who was
after all only a critic and scribbler, though he had written a play
which was for the moment enjoying an undeserved popularity, should be
given to understand that Dr. Goldsmith was not to be asked to a
hole-and-corner chop at a moment's notice. To-day he dines with Mr.
Burke; to-morrow with Dr. Nugent; the day after with Mr. Beauclerc. If
you wish to have the honour of his company, you may choose a day
after that; and then, with his new wig, with his coat of Tyrian bloom
and blue silk breeches, with a smart sword at his side, his
gold-headed cane in his hand, and his hat under his elbow, he will
present himself in due course. Dr. Goldsmith is announced, and makes
his grave bow; this is the man of genius about whom all the town is
talking; the friend of Burke, of Reynolds, of Johnson, of Hogarth;
this is not the ragged Irishman who was some time ago earning a crust
by running errands for an apothecary.

Goldsmith's grand airs, however, were assumed but seldom; and they
never imposed on anybody. His acquaintances treated him with a
familiarity which testified rather to his good-nature than to their
good taste. Now and again, indeed, he was prompted to resent this
familiarity; but the effort was not successful. In the "high jinks" to
which he good-humouredly resorted for the entertainment of his guests
he permitted a freedom which it was afterwards not very easy to
discard