all
time, came indeed of a race of warriors, and was born in martial
surroundings; but the man himself was far from being of that stern
stuff that glories in a fight. As boy and man, he was quiet, lovable,
and of intensely religious nature.

Gordon means a "spear," and the name was probably given to the clan
several centuries ago. Its members had always been famous in battle.
Chinese Gordon's great-grandfather led a very eventful life. He was
taken prisoner in the battle of Prestonpans, and later went to Canada,
on the special expedition which wrested that Dominion from the French.
His son took part in many battles, and served with distinction.

The next in line, the father of Chinese Gordon, was Lieutenant-General
Henry William Gordon, a soldier of the highest type.

General Gordon lived at Woolwich, long noted for its arsenal. It is
only nine miles out from St. Paul's, and is an object of interest at
any time. But in times of war it fairly bristles with activity. Small
wonder, then, that a boy coming from such a line of ancestors and born,
almost, in a gun-carriage should have chosen to become a soldier. With
any other environment Chinese Gordon would have become a preacher.

Of course, the name "Chinese," was not the way he was christened.
"Charles George" are his baptismal names--but few people know that fact
now.

He was the youngest child in a large family, five sons and six
daughters. This calls to mind other large families from which sprang
famous soldiers--Napoleon, for example. Charles was born in 1833,
after his father had reached middle age, and had settled down in the
piping times of peace. The elder Gordon had won his spurs in the
Napoleonic Wars.

We know very little of the boyhood of Charles Gordon, beyond the fact
that during the first ten years of his life he lived at the Pigeon
House Fort, in Dublin Bay, next in the Fort of Leith, and later on the
Island of Corfu. All these places are spots of great natural beauty--a
vista of stretching sea or mountain-top which the frowning fortress
only aided in romance and charm. Many a long ramble must the boy have
had, storing his memory with these quiet, sylvan pictures.

Not far from Leith was the famous battlefield of Prestonpans, where,
nearly a century before, his great-grandfather had been taken prisoner.
From his father or brothers he must have heard many a wild tale of the
Highlanders and their exploits.

As a child, however, this d