poem might begin
with the advantages of civilized society over a rude state, exemplified
by the Scotch, who had no cabbages till Oliver Cromwell's soldiers
introduced them; and one might thus shew how arts are propagated by
conquest, as they were by the Roman arms.' He seemed to be much diverted
with the fertility of his own fancy.

I told him, that I heard Dr. Percy was writing the history of the wolf
in Great-Britain. JOHNSON. 'The wolf, Sir! why the wolf? why does he
not write of the bear, which we had formerly? Nay, it is said we had the
beaver. Or why does he not write of the grey rat, the Hanover rat, as it
is called, because it is said to have come into this country about the
time that the family of Hanover came? I should like to see The History
of the Grey Rat, by Thomas Percy, D. D., Chaplain in Ordinary to
his Majesty,' (laughing immoderately). BOSWELL. 'I am afraid a court
chaplain could not decently write of the grey rat.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, he
need not give it the name of the Hanover rat.' Thus could he indulge a
luxuriant sportive imagination, when talking of a friend whom he loved
and esteemed.

On Friday, March 22, having set out early from Henley, where we had lain
the preceding night, we arrived at Birmingham about nine o'clock, and,
after breakfast, went to call on his old schoolfellow Mr. Hector. A very
stupid maid, who opened the door, told us, that 'her master was gone
out; he was gone to the country; she could not tell when he would
return.' In short, she gave us a miserable reception; and Johnson
observed, 'She would have behaved no better to people who wanted him in
the way of his profession.' He said to her, 'My name is Johnson; tell
him I called. Will you remember the name?' She answered with rustick
simplicity, in the Warwickshire pronunciation, 'I don't understand
you, Sir.'--'Blockhead, (said he,) I'll write.' I never heard the word
blockhead applied to a woman before, though I do not see why it should
not, when there is evident occasion for it. He, however, made another
attempt to make her understand him, and roared loud in her ear,
'Johnson,' and then she catched the sound.

We next called on Mr. Lloyd, one of the people called Quakers. He too
was not at home; but Mrs. Lloyd was, and received us courteously, and
asked us to dinner. Johnson said to me, 'After the uncertainty of all
human things at Hector's, this invitation came very well.' We walked
about the town, and he was pleased to se