lived wholly for others; his home
at Gravesend was school, hospital, church, and almshouse all in one. His
work more like that of a Home missionary than of a military officer. The
troubles of all interested him alike, but he had a warm corner in his
heart for lads." This will be seen from letters produced. Many of the
lads he rescued from the slums and gutters; he cleaned them, clothed
them, fed them, and gave them shelter and home, sometimes for weeks and
even longer. He taught in the evenings lessons suitable to their
conditions; not forgetting the moral and spiritual side of his work. And
he did this work without fee or reward, and he did it with all his heart.
He was as enthusiastic about this duty as he was about his military
duties. He called these lads "_His kings_."

Leigh Hunt's ideal of a king describes very closely Gordon's ideal:--

"'Tis not the wealth that makes a king
Nor the purple colouring,
Nor a brow that's bound with gold,
Nor gate on mighty hinges rolled;
That king is he who void of fear,
Can look abroad with bosom clear,
Who can tread ambition down,
Nor be swayed by smile nor frown,
Nor for all the treasure cares,
That mine conceals or harvest wears,
Or that golden sands deliver,
Bosomed on a glassy river,
Safe with wisdom for his crown,
He looks on all things calmly down,
He has no fear of earthly thing,
This is it that makes a king,
And all of us who e'er we be
May carve us out such royalty."

On one occasion a lad in the employ of a Gravesend tradesman was
discovered to have been pilfering on a somewhat serious scale. When the
fact was proved beyond question, the master declared he would have the
boy punished by imprisonment. The mother of the boy, hearing of this sad
affair, was almost broken-hearted, and at her wit's end. Someone who had
heard of Gordon's love for lads, also his intense desire to help all in
trouble, suggested that she should see him and explain her case. So,
with all a mother's earnestness, she went at once to Gordon and told him
the whole story, and begged with tears for his sympathy and help. After
hearing the story his heart was touched, he could not refuse a mother's
appeal. When a mother pleads, there is power and pathos difficult for
any to withstand, much less Gordon. So he went to the lad's late
employer, and after considerable argument, the master undertook not to
prosecute, but only on co