In conversation Goldsmith was not so happy. Garrick described him as one
... for shortness call'd Noll,
Who wrote like an angel, but talked like poor Poll,
and Johnson said of him: "No man was more foolish when he had not a pen in his hand, or more wise when he had."
The truth was that Goldsmith's vanity, which made him eager to get in and shine, could not bear the rough buffetings of Johnson's talk. "There is no arguing with Johnson," he complained, "for when his pistol misses fire, he knocks you down with the butt end of it."
He was as vain of his fine clothes, when he had money to buy them, as of his literary reputation:
"Well, let me tell you," he said once, "when my tailor brought home my bloom-coloured coat, he said, 'Sir, I have a favour to beg of you. When any body asks you who made your clothes, be pleased to mention John Filby, at the Harrow, in Water-lane.' Johnson. 'Why, Sir, that was because he knew the strange colour would attract crowds to gaze at it, and thus they might hear of him, and see how well he could make a coat even of so absurd a colour.'"
Once at a dinner-party Goldsmith became really angry when "beginning to speak, he found himself overpowered by the loud voice of Johnson, who was at the opposite end of the table." When at length he complained, Johnson silenced him by calling him impertinent.
Johnson and Goldsmith outside Filby's shop