‘He never wrote any part of his works with equal velocity. Three columns of the Magazine in an hour was no uncommon effort, which was faster than most persons could have transcribed that quantity’ (ib.). According to Hawkins (Life, p. 99), ‘His practice was to shut himself up in a room assigned to him at St. John’s Gate, to which he would not suffer any one to approach, except the compositor or Cave’s boy for matter, which, as fast as he composed it, he tumbled out at the door.’
From Murphy we get the following curious story:—
‘That Johnson was the author of the debates during that period [Nov, 1740 to Feb. 1743] was not generally known; but the secret transpired several years afterwards, and was avowed by himself on the following occasion:—Mr. Wedderburne (now Lord Loughborough), Dr. Johnson, Dr. Francis (the translator of Horace), the present writer, and others dined with the late Mr. Foote. An important debate towards the end of Sir Robert Walpole’s administration being mentioned, Dr. Francis observed, “that Mr. Pitt’s speech on that occasion was the best he had ever read.” He added, “that he had employed eight years of his life in the study of Demosthenes, and finished a translation of that celebrated orator, with all the decorations of style and language within the reach of his capacity; but he had met with nothing equal to the speech above mentioned.” Many of the company remembered the debate; and some passages were cited with the approbation and applause of all present. During the ardour of conversation, Johnson remained silent. As soon as the warmth of praise subsided, he opened with these words:—“That speech I wrote in a garret in Exeter Street.” The company was struck with astonishment. After staring at each other in silent amaze, Dr. Francis asked how that speech could be written by him? “Sir,” said Johnson, “I wrote it in Exeter Street. I never had been in the gallery of the House of Commons but once. Cave had interest with the door-keepers. He, and the persons employed under him, gained admittance: they brought away the subject of discussion, the names of the speakers, the side they took, and the order in which they rose, together with notes of the arguments advanced in the course of the debate. The whole was afterwards communicated to me, and I composed the speeches in the form which they now have in the Parliamentary Debates.” To this discovery Dr. Francis made answer:—“Then, sir, you have exceeded Demosthenes himself, for to say that you have exceeded Francis’s Demosthenes, would be saying nothing.” The rest of the company bestowed lavish encomiums on Johnson: one, in particular, praised his impartiality; observing, that he dealt out reason and eloquence with an equal hand to both parties. “That is not quite true,” said Johnson; “I saved appearances tolerably well, but I took care that the WHIG DOGS should not have the best of it.”’ Murphy’s Life of Johnson, p. 343.
Murphy, we must not forget, wrote from memory, for there is no reason to think that he kept notes. That his memory cannot altogether be trusted has been shown by Boswell (ante, p. 391, note 4). This dinner with Foote must have taken place at least nineteen years before this account was published, for so many years had Dr. Francis been dead. At the time when Johnson was living in Exeter-street he was not engaged on the magazine. Nevertheless the main facts may be true enough. Johnson himself told Boswell (post, May 13, 1778) that in Lord Chesterfield’s Miscellaneous Works (ii. 319) there were two speeches ascribed to Chesterfield which he had himself entirely written. Horace Walpole (Letters, i. 147) complained that the published report of his own first speech ‘did not contain one sentence of the true one.’ Johnson, in his preface to the Literary Magazine of 1756, seems to confess what he had done, unless, indeed, he was altogether making himself the mere mouth-piece of the publisher. He says:—‘We shall not attempt to give any regular series of debates, or to amuse our readers with senatorial rhetorick. The speeches inserted in other papers have been long known to be fictitious, and produced sometimes by men who never heard the debate, nor had any authentick information. We have no design to impose thus grossly on our readers.’ (Works, v. 363.)
The secret that Johnson wrote these Debates was indeed well kept. He seems to be aimed at in a question that was put to Cave in his examination before the House of Lords in 1747. ‘Being asked “if he ever had any person whom he kept in pay to make speeches for him,” he said, “he never had.”’ (Parl. Hist. xiv. 60.) Herein he lied in order, no doubt, to screen Johnson. Forty-four years later Horace Walpole wrote (Letters, ix. 319), ‘I never knew Johnson wrote the speeches in the Gentleman’s Magazine till he died.’ Johnson told Boswell ‘that as soon as he found that they were thought genuine he determined that he would write no more of them, “for he would not be accessory to the propagation of falsehood.”’ (Ante, p. 152.) One of his Debates was translated into French, German, and Spanish (Gent. Mag. xiii. 59), and, no doubt, was accepted abroad as authentic. When he learnt this his conscience might well have received a shock. That it did receive a shock seems almost capable of proof. It was in the number of the Magazine for February, 1743—at the beginning of March, that is to say—that the fact of these foreign translations was made known. The last Debate that Johnson wrote was for the 22nd day of February in that year. In 1740, 1741, and 1742, he had worked steadily at his Debates. The beginning of 1743 found him no less busy. His task suddenly came to an end. Among foreign nations his speeches were read as the very words of English statesmen. To the propagation of such a falsehood as this he would no longer be accessory. Fifteen years later Smollett quoted them as if they were genuine (History of England, iii. 73). Here, however, Johnson’s conscience was void of offence; for ‘he had cautioned him not to rely on them, for that they were not authentic.’ (Hawkins, Life, p. 129.)
That they should generally have passed current shews how unacquainted people at that time were with real debating. Even if we had not Johnson’s own statement, both from external and internal evidence we could have known that they were for the most part ‘the mere coinage of his imagination.’ They do not read like speeches that had ever been spoken. ‘None of them,’ Mr. Flood said, ‘were at all like real debates’ (post, under March 30, 1771). They are commonly formed of general statements which suit any one speaker just as well as any other. The scantier were the notes that were given him by those who had heard the debate, the more he had to draw on his imagination. But his was an imagination which supplied him with what was general much more readily than with what was particular. Had De Foe been the composer he would have scattered over each speech the most ingenious and probable matters of detail, but De Foe and Johnson were wide as the poles asunder. Neither had Johnson any dramatic power. His parliamentary speakers have scarcely more variety than the characters in Irene. Unless he had been a constant frequenter of the galleries of the two Houses, he could not have acquired any knowledge of the style and the peculiarities of the different members. Nay, even of their modes of thinking and their sentiments he could have gained but the most general notions. Of debating he knew nothing. It was the set speeches in Livy and the old historians that he took as his models. In his orations there is very little of ‘the tart reply;’ there is, indeed, scarcely any examination of an adversary’s arguments. So general are the speeches that the order in which they are given might very often without inconvenience be changed. They are like a series of leading articles on both sides of the question, but all written by one man. Johnson is constantly shifting his character, and, like Falstaff and the Prince, playing first his own part and then his opponent’s. It is wonderful how well he preserves his impartiality, though he does ‘take care that the Whig dogs should not have the best of it.’
He not only took the greatest liberties in his reports, but he often took them openly. Thus an army bill was debated in committee on Dec. 10, 1740, and again the following day on the report in the full House. ‘As in these two debates,’ he writes, ‘the arguments were the same, Mr. Gulliver has thrown them into one to prevent unnecessary repetitions.’ (Gent. Mag. Dec. 1742, p. 676.) In each House during the winter of 1742-3 there was a debate