We stopped at Welwyn, where I wished much to see, in company with Dr. Johnson, the residence of the authour of Night Thoughts, which was then possessed by his son, Mr. Young.  Here some address was requisite, for I was not acquainted with Mr. Young, and had I proposed to Dr. Johnson that we should send to him, he would have checked my wish, and perhaps been offended.  I therefore concerted with Mr. Dilly, that I should steal away from Dr. Johnson and him, and try what reception I could procure from Mr. Young; if unfavourable, nothing was to be said; but if agreeable, I should return and notify it to them.  I hastened to Mr. Young’s, found he was at home, sent in word that a gentleman desired to wait upon him, and was shewn into a parlour, where he and a young lady, his daughter, were sitting.  He appeared to be a plain, civil, country gentleman; and when I begged pardon for presuming to trouble him, but that I wished much to see his place, if he would give me leave; he behaved very courteously, and answered, ’By all means, Sir; we are just going to drink tea; will you sit down?’ I thanked him, but said, that Dr. Johnson had come with me from London, and I must return to the inn and drink tea with him; that my name was Boswell, I had travelled with him in the Hebrides.  ’Sir, (said he,) I should think it a great honour to see Dr. Johnson here.  Will you allow me to send for him?’ Availing myself of this opening, I said that ’I would go myself and bring him, when he had drunk tea; he knew nothing of my calling here.’  Having been thus successful, I hastened back to the inn, and informed Dr. Johnson that ’Mr. Young, son of Dr. Young, the authour of Night Thoughts, whom I had just left, desired to have the honour of seeing him at the house where his father lived.’  Dr. Johnson luckily made no inquiry how this invitation had arisen, but agreed to go, and when we entered Mr. Young’s parlour, he addressed him with a very polite bow, ’Sir, I had a curiosity to come and see this place.  I had the honour to know that great man, your father.’  We went into the garden, where we found a gravel walk, on each side of which was a row of trees, planted by Dr. Young, which formed a handsome Gothick arch; Dr. Johnson called it a fine grove.  I beheld it with reverence.

We sat some time in the summer-house, on the outside wall of which was inscribed, ‘Ambulantes in horto audiebant vocem Dei;’ and in reference to a brook by which it is situated, ‘Vivendi recte qui prorogat horam,’ &c.  I said to Mr. Young, that I had been told his father was cheerful.  ’Sir, (said he,) he was too well-bred a man not to be cheerful in company; but he was gloomy when alone.  He never was cheerful after my mother’s death, and he had met with many disappointments.’  Dr. Johnson observed to me afterwards, ’That this was no favourable account of Dr. Young; for it is not becoming in a man to have so little acquiescence in the ways of Providence, as to be gloomy because he has not obtained as much preferment as he expected; nor to continue gloomy for the loss of his wife.  Grief has its time.’  The last part of this censure was theoretically made.  Practically, we know that grief for the loss of a wife may be continued very long, in proportion as affection has been sincere.  No man knew this better than Dr. Johnson.