Johnson’s political pamphlets, whatever was his motive for writing them, whether gratitude for his pension, or the solicitation of men in power, did not support the cause for which they were undertaken.  They are written in a style truly harmonious, and with his usual dignity of language.  When it is said that he advanced positions repugnant to the “common rights of mankind,” the virulence of party may be suspected.  It is, perhaps, true, that in the clamour, raised throughout the kingdom, Johnson overheated his mind; but he was a friend to the rights of man, and he was greatly superior to the littleness of spirit, that might incline him to advance what he did not think and firmly believe.  In the False Alarm, though many of the most eminent men in the kingdom concurred in petitions to the throne, yet Johnson, having well surveyed the mass of the people, has given, with great humour, and no less truth, what may be called, “the birth, parentage, and education of a remonstrance.”  On the subject of Falkland’s islands, the fine dissuasive from too hastily involving the world in the calamities of war, must extort applause even from the party that wished, at that time, for scenes of tumult and commotion.  It was in the same pamphlet, that Johnson offered battle to Junius, a writer, who, by the uncommon elegance of his style, charmed every reader, though his object was to inflame the nation in favour of a faction.  Junius fought in the dark; he saw his enemy, and had his full blow; while he himself remained safe in obscurity.  “But let us not,” said Johnson, “mistake the venom of the shaft, for the vigour of the bow.”  The keen invective which he published, on that occasion, promised a paper war between two combatants, who knew the use of their weapons.  A battle between them was as eagerly expected, as between Mendoza and Big Ben.  But Junius, whatever was his reason, never returned to the field.  He laid down his arms, and has, ever since, remained as secret as the man in the mask, in Voltaire’s history.

The account of his journey to the Hebrides, or western isles of Scotland, is a model for such as shall, hereafter, relate their travels.  The author did not visit that part of the world in the character of an antiquary, to amuse us with wonders taken from the dark and fabulous ages; nor, as a mathematician, to measure a degree, and settle the longitude and latitude of the several islands.  Those, who expected such information, expected what was never intended.  “In every work regard the writer’s end.”  Johnson went to see men and manners, modes of life, and the progress of civilization.  His remarks are so artfully blended with the rapidity and elegance of his narrative, that the reader is inclined to wish, as Johnson did, with regard to Gray, that “to travel, and to tell his travels, had been more of his employment.”

As to Johnson’s Parliamentary Debates, nothing, with propriety, can be said in this place.  They are collected, in two volumes, by Mr. Stockdale, and the flow of eloquence which runs through the several speeches, is sufficiently known.