“‘He Leadeth Me,’ sung throughout the world, was written by the Rev. Dr. Joseph H. Gilmore, a son of a Governor of New Hampshire, in the home of Deacon Wattson, immediately after preaching in the First Baptist Church, northwest corner Broad and Arch Streets, on the 26th day of March, 1862. The church and Deacon Wattson’s house stood on the ground on which this building is erected. “The United Gas Improvement Company, in recognition of the beauty and fame of the hymn, and in remembrance of its distinguished author, makes this permanent record on the first day of June, 1926.” The subject of the sermon was the Twenty-third Psalm, especially the words “He leadeth me.” After the service a few met with the minister and rehearsed the impression, emphasizing the timeliness of the sermon, since this was the darkest hour of the War of Rebellion. “Then and there,” wrote Dr. Gilmore, “on a blank page of the brief from which I had intended to speak, I penciled the hymn, handed it to my wife, and thought no more about it.” It was later published in a Boston paper, which attracted the attention of William B. Bradbury, who set the hymn to music. Since then it has gone on its mission, translated into several languages and sung by people of different churches. Bishop Paddock had it included in the revised hymnal of the Protestant Episcopal Church, saying “how could I conduct a service in a home for the aged if I couldn’t give out ‘He Leadeth Me’?” This hymn was once sung in a Chinese court of justice by a native who had never seen a white missionary, to show the presiding judge what a Christian hymn was like. The man was being tried for renting a building to some Christians who had opened an opium refuge. When he told the justice that at their meetings the Christians prayed and sang hymns, he was asked for a specimen and sang “He Leadeth Me.” How a crisis was averted is seen when A German Girl Led in Singing “A Mighty Fortress” A few years ago there was a fearful accident at the coal mines near Scranton, Pennsylvania. Several men were buried for three days and all hopes of their rescue seemed to be futile. Most of the miners in this region were Germans. Their excitement was intensified by sympathy for the wives and children of the buried men and their failure to rescue them. On the third day at evening, a mob assembled at the mouth of the mine in a sullen temper because it was hopeless to dig further since the men were probably dead by this time, and in their mad rage they blamed the rich mine owners for the tragedy. They were ready for any violence if only some reckless word was spoken. The atmosphere was tense but it was suddenly changed when a little German girl, about eleven years of age, pale with fear, lifted her voice in song. She began in a hoarse whisper but her childish voice gathered strength as she went on with the first verse of Luther’s hymn, “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God.”