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 Rock of Ages One of the worlds best loved hymns was written by Augustus Montague Toplady in 1763. Legend has it that he wrote it while
hiding in a cave during a violent storm. It was published 12 years later in Gospel Magazine in 1775. Augustus was born at
Farnham, Surrey, on November 4, 1740 and his father, Richard Toplady, a major in the army was killed shortly after he was
born. He was educated at Westminster School, London and Trinity College, Dublin. While in Ireland he was converted by a
sermon from James Morris, a follower of John Wesley. Soon afterwards, Toplady rejected Wesley's "Methodism" in favor of the
more extreme views of Calvinism and it is recorded a bitter enmity developed between the two men. Augustus became Vicar of
St. Andrews in Broadhembury in 1768 and remained there until signs of consumption in 1776 resulted in his removal to London
where he ministered in the French Calvinist Reformed Church on Orange Street for the remaining two years of his life. There
he died at the tender age of 38. Although he is best remembered for the hymn "Rock of Ages" and his disagreements with Wesley he authored a number of works on Church doctrine, wrote many poems and psalms and also authored 132 other hymns including A Debtor to Mercy Alone, A Sovereign Protector I Have and Whence This Fear and Unbelief. A plaque is kept in Broadhembury Church in honor of Augustus Toplady which mentions his "personal piety, brilliant gifts, sanctified learning and uncompromising advocacy of the gospel of the Sovereign Grace of God."  Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in thee; Let the water and the blood, From thy riven side which flowed, Be of sin the double cure, Cleanse me from its guilt and pow'r Not the labor of my hands Can fulfill thy law's demands; Could my zeal no respite know, Could my tears for ever flow? All for sin could not atone; Thou must save, and thou alone. Nothing in my hand I bring, Simply to thy Cross I cling; Naked, come to thee for dress; Helpless, look to thee for grace; Foul, I to the fountain fly; Wash me, Saviour, or I die. While I draw this fleeting breath, When my eyelids close in death, When I soar through tracts unknown, See thee on thy judgment throne; Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in thee.
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