In 1736, Cave began to carry out his scheme of publishing the reports of the debates in Parliament in the monthly pages of his magazine. With a friend or two he used to lurk about the lobby and gallery, taking sly notes in dark corners, remembering what they could of the drift of the argument, and then retiring to a neighbouring tavern to compare and adjust their notes. This rough material was placed in the hands of an experienced writer, and thus dressed up, presented to the readers of the magazine. In 1738, the House complained of the breach of privilege committed by Cave, and, among other debaters, Sir William Younge earnestly implored the House to put a summary check to these reports, prophesying that otherwise “you will have the speeches of the House every day printed, even during your session, and we shall be looked upon as the most contemptible assembly on the face of the earth.” After this check some expedient was necessary, and the proceedings in Parliament were given as _Debates in the Senate of Great Lilliput_, and were entrusted to Johnson’s pen. On one occasion a large company were praising a speech of Pitt’s; Johnson sat silent for a while, then said, “That speech I wrote in a yard in Exeter Street.” It had been reprinted _verbatim_ from the magazine, and had been drawn up entirely from rough notes and hints supplied by the messengers. When congratulated on his uniform political impartiality, Johnson replied: “That is not quite true, sir; I saved appearances well enough, but I took care that the Whig dogs should not have the best of it.” Cave’s attention to the magazine was unremitting to the day of his death; “he scarce ever looked out of the window,” says Johnson, “but for its improvement.” In 1749, the first popular review was started, by Ralph Griffiths; but before the time of the _Monthly Review_ there had been various journals professing to deal only with literature. In 1683, had been published a _Weekly Memento for the Ingenius, or an Account of Books_, and, in 1714, the first really critical journal, under the quaint title, _The Waies of Literature_, and these had been succeeded by others. Still, the _Monthly Review_ was a very great improvement. Among the chief early contributors was Goldsmith, who escaped the miseries of ushership, and the weariness of a diplomaless doctor, waiting for patients who never came, or, at all events, never paid, to live as a hack writer in Griffiths’ house. Here, induced by want, or kindliness to a fellow-starver, he got into trouble by borrowing money from his master to pay for clothes, and appropriating it to other purposes. Termed villain and sharper, and threatened with the Roundhouse, he writes: “No, sir; had I been a sharper, had I been possessed of less good nature and native generosity, I might surely now have been in better circumstances; I am guilty I own of meanness, which poverty unavoidably brings with it.”