the very place where they happen?'[1] 'I am like to be brought upon the highway, and say "Date obolum pauperi Bellizario,"' he writes to Southwell. 'It is a sad thing that I almost in everything doe endure the wrong and the punishment.'[2]
Under the combined influence of his 'text letter oppressions' in the suit with the farmers, and of the depressing atmosphere of the Dublin Court of Admiralty, he about this time composed a long piece of Latin poetry of a melancholy tone, under the nom de guerre of 'Cassidius Aureus Manutius,' with the title of 'Colloquium Davidis cum animâ suâ.' The day on which he retired from his troublesome judicial office was probably not the least happy of his life. He resigned it, he says, 'not because it affords me no wages, but because it gives me no such work as I expected, and should have been glad to have bestowed my time upon, even without any other recompense or reward than the satisfaction to have done well.'[3]
More congenial work was, however, awaiting him in England. In 1681 he was summoned to London to take part in the discussion before the Privy Council of the re-organisation of the Irish revenue, the abuses of which were too patent to be able any longer to escape reform. He had an adventurous journey, as the following letter will show: —
'Chester, 5 June 1682, 6 a'clock morning.
'We set sayle in the Yatcht from Dunleary[4] upon fryday noon, the 2d instant, being our weding day; and after a delicate Passage came to Neston about 4 aclock on Saturday, but in the droping our Anchor the Yatcht struck upon the flook of it, so as in a minutes time there were 2 or 3 foot water in the hold; in less than a quarter of an hower we sunk down to the ground, and the tide coming in was quite covered in an hower more. I was the first that got out into the boat, and as many more immediately followed as were like to sink her. But in brief being near the Shoare, the boat made 2 or 3 returns, and fetcht every body off, with their goods. I was in great fear for
