Robinson's father having died when he was young his widowed mother, while struggling with poverty found herself unable to give him that education he desired. Therefore at the age of fourteen he was appren ticed to a hairdresser in London.

But his thirst for knowledge caused his master to complain that he gave more attention to his books than to his business.

The means that led to his conversion were quite singular. Walking out one day with several companions their attention was called to an old woman who pretended to tell fortunes. Robinson was informed among other things that he would live to a very old age and see a long line of descendents.

"And so," said he when alone, "I am to see children, grandchildren, and great grand-children. I will then,' thought he, "during my youth, endeavor to store my mind with all kinds of knowledge. I will see, and hear, and note down everything that is rare and wonderful, that I may sit, when incapable of other employments, and entertain my descendents. Thus shall my company be rendered pleasant, and I shall be respected, rather than neglected, in old age. Let me see, what can I acquire first? Oh, here is the famous Methodist preacher, Whitefield; he is to preach here, they say to-night; I will go and hear him.”

From these strange motives, as he told the celebrated Rev. Andrew Fuller, he went to hear Whitefield preach. That evening his text was, "But when he saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees come to his Baptism, he said unto them, O generation of vipers who hath warned you to flee from the wrath to come?" "Mr. Whitefield," said Robinson, "decribed the Sadducees' character; this did not touch me; I thought myself as good a Christian as any man in England. From this he went to that of the

.Pharisees. He sketched their exterior decency, but observed, that the poison of the viper rankled in their hearts This rather shook me. At length, in the course of his sermon, he abruptly broke off; paused for a few moments; then burst into a flood of tears, lifted up his hand and eyes, and exclaimed, 'Oh,my hearers, the wrath to come! the wrath to come!' These words sunk into my heart like lead in the water: I wept, and when the sermon was ended retired alone. For days and weeks I I could think of little else. Those awful words would follow me wherever I went: The wrath to come! The wrath to come?

After wandering for some time like a wounded deer, pierced with the arrows of conviction, he was found December 10th, 1755, of one, of whom he afterwards so sweetly wrote in the language of his hymn.—

"Jesus sought me when a stranger,

Wandering from the fold of God;
He, to rescue me from danger,

Interposed his precious blood."

Another grand hymn that displays the genius of Robinson, and that is often sung, originally commenced,— "Mighty God! while angels bless thee

May an infant lisp thy name!"

The word "mortal," is often now taken for "infant." Dr. Belcher says that this was "composed for the use of the late excellent Benjamin Williams, Esq., for many years, senior deacon of the first Baptist church at Reading a man of great influence and usefulness. When a little boy, Benjamin sat on Robinson's knee while he wrote this hymn, who, after having read it to him, placed it in bis hand.

"Well do we remember the deep feeling with which the venerable man described to us the scene as we sat with him at his own fireside."

"Tune my heart to sing thy grace."

MANY illustrations can be given of this line of "Come thou Fount." "Do you wish to sing as angels sing? Ask of God an heavenly mind. A harp must be tuned before it makes good music. And when the heart is put in tune, well warmed with the love of God, singing proves delightsome service, and a heavenly feast."

A pastor, who is now filling a Philadelphia pulpit, and has already added many jewels to the Saviour's crown, in giving his experience to the author, says that it was the marked contrast between heart service and lip service in singing, that led to his conversion.

When a young man he was attending the dedication of a new church in a dark corner of Pennsylvania, a section at that time bitterly opposed to vital godliness, and frozen over with a dead religious formalism.

A revival had brought together a little praying band who were consecrating their new building with a "living sacrifice" of praise. The fires of persecution, as well as the pentecostal flames from above had melted away all discord from the heart, so that the singing sounded forth upon the crowd of listeners with melting power. Among this group was our friend standing on a log under the trees, some distance away from the church. Hitherto he had prided himself upon his abilities as a choir-leader, but while under the sound of these heart-tuned voices he felt as if he had yet to learn the rudiment of Christian singing.

With trembling and tears he left that hallowed ground, and resolved to get his heart right before he would sing again. He at once resigned his position in the church of which he was a communicant member, and when the reason was asked, he replied that he was no longer going to mock his God with lip-service, while his heart was out of tune and far from him.

A Hymn Composed During a Sermon.

N many books is found the hymn, commencing

"In all my Lord's appointed ways

My journey I'll pursue;

'Hinder me not, ye much-loved saints,

For I must go with you.

It was written by Rev. John Ryland, D. D., an eminent Baptist minister, born in England in 1753. Blest with a pious mother, he was early taught, as Doddridge was, with Scripture lessons that adorned their fire-place.

When five years old he could read Hebrew, and at nine the entire New Testament in Greek. At fourteen he united with his father's church. At eighteen he preached his first sermon.

While pastor of the Baptist church at Northampton the hymn referred to above thus took its rise:

"Several stage coaches daily passed through the town; and, as the good pastor lived at no great distance from the inn where they exchanged horses, he contrived to meet every evangelical minister who passed through the town, and not unfrequently almost compelled them to stay a day on the road, that they might give his people a sermon in the evening. On one occasion he had thus treated a brother in the ministry, who most reluctantly yielded and appeared in the pulpit with the text, 'Hinder me not,' Gen. XXIV. 56. Dr Ryland, as is still customary in England, sat in the desk below the pulpit to read the hymns; and, as his brother proceeded, every head of discourse' was 'turned into poetry,' which at the end of his sermon was duly read and a portion of it sung." In eight verses of the hymn the text was repeated. He is the author of ninety-nine hymns, the most popular being those commencing, "Sovereign Ruler of the skies, "" and "O Lord! I would delight in Thee."

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