Robert Robinson had been saved out of a tempestuous life of sin through George Whitefield's ministry in England. Shortly after that, at the age of twenty-three, Robinson wrote the hymn "Come, Thou Fount." Sadly, Robinson wandered far and, like the Prodigal Son, journeyed into the distant country of carnality. Until one day he was traveling by stagecoach and sitting beside a young woman engrossed in her book. She ran across a verse she thought was beautiful and asked him what he thought of it. "Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, Prone to leave the God I love." Bursting into tears, Robinson said, "Madam, I am the poor unhappy man who wrote that hymn many years ago, and I would give a thousand worlds, if I had them, to enjoy the feelings I had then." -- Kenneth W. Osbeck
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