He left Westminster in 1748, and was entered of the Middle Temple. After spending nine months in his father's house, he was articled for three years to a solicitor, Mr. Chapman, of Ely Place, Holborn. Not far off, in Southampton Row, lived his uncle Ashley, afterwards Clerk of the Parliaments.[1] He had three daughters; two of them, Harriet and Theodora, were ripening into womanhood. It was arranged that William was to visit them every Sunday, and this soon led to his being there continually on week-days. He was "to be found there," he said afterwards, "from morning to night, giggling and making giggle." In this pleasant occupation he was much assisted by a fellow-clerk at Mr. Chapman's, whom he had introduced at his uncle's house. This clerk, Edward Thurlow by name, was Cowper's junior by a few months. He had been educated at the King's School, Canterbury, and afterwards at Cambridge; and though wayward, and given to continual breaches of discipline, had been able, by fits of application and hard work, to make himself a good scholar. In like manner now, though he lounged about places of amusement and drank much punch, he contrived to give himself a good knowledge of law. Cowper saw the young man's great powers, and his knack of turning to account everything that he acquired, and one day said to him: "Thurlow, I am nobody, and shall always be nobody, and you will be Lord Chancellor. You shall provide for me when you are!" Thurlow smiled and said, "I surely will!" "These ladies are witnesses," said Cowper. "Let them be," answered Thurlow, "for I will certainly do it." The same prophecy had been made to Thurlow when a little boy, by a clergyman named Leach, and possibly the repetition of it by Cowper led to this lightly-made compact now. Cowper's prophecy was fulfilled, but not Thurlow's promise.
Thus, pleasantly rather than profitably, the three years of clerkship went by, and when they were ended Cowper was deeply in love with Theodora, and his love was tenderly returned. The progress of this courtship, the quarrels and renewals of love, the young gentleman's bashfulness, and his increased care for his personal appearance,—all these things are described for us, as well as such matters can be, in the poems which courtship produced. I cannot at all agree with Mr. Bell's judgment of them. "Cowper," he says, "was not capable of very strong emotions. The shadow of love seems to have hovered about him, but he was indifferent to the reality. We look in vain for the fervour of a youthful devotion." Whilst the young poet was pluming his wings, consciously imitating others, it is no wonder that some of these early love pieces are artificial. To me at least it is evident that his passion became anything but a shadow "which made no lasting impression upon him." Cowper was very reserved all his life on other matters
- ↑ Ashley Cowper was a very little man, and he used to wear a white hat lined with yellow. On which two facts Cowper once expressed his opinion that it would not be surprising if some day he should be "picked" by mistake for a mushroom, and popped into a basket.
