Cup of Trembling

"Afar we stand, a gloomy band,
Our worth, our wants neglected,
The children in their fatherland
Cut off, despised, rejected."

Allow me to say to the reader, that the cup I now hold in my hand is a "cup of trembling," and gladly would my sickening heart turn away from its contents, "but 'for this cause was I sent,' and the cup which my Father has given me shall I not drink it?" Yes, for this cause was I sent, for this cause, in the face of all that was thought consistency or prudence, unprotected by mortal arm or encouraged by mortal support, was I bidden to go out, and to go "nothing doubting" into a strange land, and there do what I should be bidden, not knowing what that might be nor inquiring wherefore the work were laid upon me.

I came, the island was traversed, stormy days and dark nights, filthy cabins and uncomfortable lodging-houses were my lot, evil surmises from the proud professor, and the cold neglect of many, were all alike to me; the "tower" into which I ran was always safe and always open, the "rock" under which I sheltered was indeed "higher than I," and the tempest passed harmlessly by.

Read "Annals of the Famine in Ireland" at your leisure

Annals of the Famine in Ireland

Read Annals of the Famine in Ireland at your leisure and help support this free Irish library.

This book still has the power to shock and sadden even though the events described are ever-receding further into the past. When you read, for example, of the poor widowed mother who was caught trying to salvage a few potatoes from her landlord's field, and what the magistrate discovered in the pot in her cabin, you cannot help but be apalled and distressed.

The text of this new edition has professionally been reset and an index added to the paperback.


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