It may also be observed, that Goldsmith was sometimes content to be treated with an easy familiarity, but, upon occasions, would be consequential and important.  An instance of this occurred in a small particular.  Johnson had a way of contracting the names of his friends; as Beauclerk, Beau; Boswell, Bozzy; Langton, Lanky; Murphy, Mur; Sheridan, Sherry.  I remember one day, when Tom Davies was telling that Dr. Johnson said, ‘We are all in labour for a name to GOLDY’S play,’ Goldsmith seemed displeased that such a liberty should be taken with his name, and said, ‘I have often desired him not to call me Goldy.’  Tom was remarkably attentive to the most minute circumstance about Johnson.  I recollect his telling me once, on my arrival in London, ’Sir, our great friend has made an improvement on his appellation of old Mr. Sheridan.  He calls him now Sherry derry.’

On Monday, May 9, as I was to set out on my return to Scotland next morning, I was desirous to see as much of Dr. Johnson as I could.  But I first called on Goldsmith to take leave of him.  The jealousy and envy which, though possessed of many most amiable qualities, he frankly avowed, broke out violently at this interview.  Upon another occasion, when Goldsmith confessed himself to be of an envious disposition, I contended with Johnson that we ought not to be angry with him, he was so candid in owning it.  ’Nay, Sir, (said Johnson,) we must be angry that a man has such a superabundance of an odious quality, that he cannot keep it within his own breast, but it boils over.’  In my opinion, however, Goldsmith had not more of it than other people have, but only talked of it freely.

He now seemed very angry that Johnson was going to be a traveller; said ’he would be a dead weight for me to carry, and that I should never be able to lug him along through the Highlands and Hebrides.’  Nor would he patiently allow me to enlarge upon Johnson’s wonderful abilities; but exclaimed, ‘Is he like Burke, who winds into a subject like a serpent?’ ’But, (said I,) Johnson is the Hercules who strangled serpents in his cradle.’

I dined with Dr. Johnson at General Paoli’s.  He was obliged, by indisposition, to leave the company early; he appointed me, however, to meet him in the evening at Mr. (now Sir Robert) Chambers’s in the Temple, where he accordingly came, though he continued to be very ill.  Chambers, as is common on such occasions, prescribed various remedies to him.  Johnson. (fretted by pain,) ’Pr’ythee don’t tease me.  Stay till I am well, and then you shall tell me how to cure myself.’  He grew better, and talked with a noble enthusiasm of keeping up the representation of respectable families.  His zeal on this subject was a circumstance in his character exceedingly remarkable, when it is considered that he himself had no pretensions to blood.  I heard him once say, ’I have great merit in being zealous for subordination and the honours of birth; for I can hardly tell who was my grandfather.’