T. Studd filled him with foreboding: “I am drawing near my journey’s end and don’t like it. There is an insistent warning of evil to come that will not be denied.… This always happens when I fall into hard places.” In the center of the African continent what could one do ...
Is it not well to have more of the spirit, Living for Futures where naught is amiss, Less of the flesh with the Past pining near it? Is there a joy like this? 9 _Leaving the garden for the lane. He, with lightness of heart._ We will leave reason, Sweet, for a seas...