In striking contrast, the music to which the words are inseparably wedded, was composed by Dr. John B. Dykes as he walked through the Strand, one of the busiest thoroughfares of London. It may be that the tumultuous street was typical of the wild unrest in Newman’s heart when he began his hymn; if so, surely the quiet waters of the Mediterranean on that holy Sabbath evening might well represent his spiritual calm when it was ended—even though subsequent controversial storms were destined to beat fiercely upon his soul. In this connection it may prove interesting to read the following from the _Random Recollections_ of the Rev. George Huntington: “I had been paying Cardinal Newman a visit. For some reason I happened to mention his well-known hymn, ‘Lead, Kindly Light,’ which he said he wrote when a very young man. I ventured to say, ‘It must be a great pleasure to you to know that you have written a hymn treasured wherever English-speaking Christians are to be found; and where are they not to be found?’ He was silent for some moments, and then said with emotion, ‘Yes, deeply thankful, and more than thankful!’ Then, after another pause, ‘But, you see, it is not the hymn, but the _tune_, that has gained the popularity! The tune is by Dykes, and Dr. Dykes was a great master.’” Perhaps nothing more fully illustrates the general acceptability of this beautiful hymn than the fact that “when the Parliament of Religion met in Chicago during the Columbian Exposition, the representatives of almost every creed known to man found two things on which they were agreed: They could all join in the Lord’s Prayer, and all could sing ‘Lead, Kindly Light.’” When some one, a few years ago, asked William E. Gladstone to give the names of the hymns of which he was most fond, he replied that he was not quite sure that he had any favourites; and then, after a moment’s thought, he said: “Lead, Kindly Light,” and “Rock of Ages.” [Illustration: uncaptioned] “I know no song, ancient or modern,” writes the Rev. L. A. Banks, D.D., “that with such combined tenderness, pathos, and faith, tells the story of the Christian pilgrim who walks by faith and not by sight. No doubt it is this fidelity to heart experience, common to us all, that makes the hymn such a universal favourite. There are dark nights, and homesick hours, and becalmed seas for each of us, in which it is natural for man to cry out in Newman’s words: “‘The night is dark, and I am far from home, Lead Thou me on.’”