Thus passed the life of Mr. Bolton.  Dollar was added to dollar, house to house, and field to field.  Yet he was never satisfied with gaining; for the little he had, looked so small compared with the wealth of the world, after the whole of which his heart really panted, as to appear at times actually insignificant.  Thus, as he grew older, he set a value upon what he had, as the means of gaining more, and in his parting with money, did so at the expense of a daily increasing reluctance.

In the beginning of life, Mr. Bolton possessed a few generous feelings, the remains of early and innocent states stored up in childhood.  His mother, a true woman, perceiving the strong selfish and accumulative bent of his character, had sought in every possible way to implant in his mind feelings of benevolence and regard for others.  One mode of doing this had been to introduce him into scenes that appealed to his sympathies.  She often took him with her to see poor or sick persons, and so interested him in them as to create a desire in his mind to afford relief.  So soon as she perceived this desire awakened, she devised some mode of bringing it into activity, so that he might feel the delights which spring from a consciousness of having done good to another.

But so strong was the lad’s hereditary love of self, that she ever found difficulty in inducing him to sacrifice what he already considered his own, in the effort to procure blessings for others, no matter how greatly they stood in need.  If urged to spend a sixpence of his own for such a purpose, he would generally reply: 

“But you’ve got a great many more sixpences than I have, mother:  why don’t you spend them?”

To this, Mrs. Bolton would answer as appropriately as possible; but she found but poor success in her efforts, which were never relaxed.

In early manhood, as Mr. Bolton began to come in actual contact with the world, the remains of early states of innocence and sympathy with others came back, as we have intimated, upon him, and he acted, in many instances, with a generous disregard of self.  But as he bent his mind more and more earnestly to the accumulation of money, these feelings had less and less influence over him.  And as dollar after dollar was added to his store, his interest in the welfare of others grew less and less active.  Early friendships were gradually forgotten, and the first natural desire to see early friends prosperous like himself, gradually died out.  “Every man for himself,” became the leading principle of his life; and he acted upon it on all occasions.  In taking a pew in church and regularly attending worship every Sabbath, he was governed by the idea that it was respectable to do so, and gave a man a standing in society, that reacted favourably upon his worldly interests.  In putting his name to a subscription paper, a thing not always to be avoided, even by him, a business view of the matter was invariably