On leaving Westminster, Cowper, at eighteen, went to live with Mr. Chapman, an attorney, to whom he was articled, being destined for the Law.  He chose that profession, he says, not of his own accord, but to gratify an indulgent father, who may have been led into the error by a recollection of the legal honours of the family, as well as by the “silver pence” which his promising son had won by his Latin verses at Westminster School.  The youth duly slept at the attorney’s house in Ely Place.  His days were spent in “giggling and making giggle” with his cousins, Theodora and Harriet, the daughters of Ashley Cowper, in the neighbouring Southampton Row.  Ashley Cowper was a very little man in a white hat lined with yellow, and his nephew used to say that he would one day he picked by mistake for a mushroom.  His fellow-clerk in the office, and his accomplice in giggling and making giggle, was one strangely mated with him; the strong, aspiring, and unscrupulous Thurlow, who though fond of pleasure was at the same time preparing himself to push his way to wealth and power.  Cowper felt that Thurlow would reach the summit of ambition, while he would himself remain below, and made his friend promise when he was Chancellor to give him something.  When Thurlow was Chancellor, he gave Cowper his advice on translating Homer.

At the end of his three years with the attorney, Cowper took chambers in the Middle, from which he afterwards removed to the Inner Temple.  The Temple is now a pile of law offices.  In those days it was still a Society.  One of Cowper’s set says of it:  “The Temple is the barrier that divides the City and suburbs; and the gentlemen who reside there seem influenced by the situation of the place they inhabit.  Templars are in general a kind of citizen courtiers.  They aim at the air and the mien of the drawing-room, but the holy-day smoothness of a ’prentice, heightened with some additional touches of the rake or coxcomb, betrays itself in everything they do.  The Temple, however, is stocked with its peculiar beaux, wits, poets, critics, and every character in the gay world; and it is a thousand pities that so pretty a society should be disgraced with a few dull fellows, who can submit to puzzle themselves with cases and reports, and have not taste enough to follow the genteel method of studying the law.”  Cowper at all events studied law by the genteel method; he read it almost as little in the Temple as he had in the attorney’s office, though in due course of time he was formally called to the Bar, and even managed in some way to acquire a reputation, which when he had entirely given up the profession brought him a curious offer of a readership at Lyons Inn.  His time was given to literature, and he became a member of a little circle of men of letters and journalists which had its social centre in the Nonsense Club, consisting of seven Westminster men who dined together every Thursday.  In the set were Bonnell Thornton and Colman, twin wits, fellow-writers