The older he grew the more avaricious he became.
And to such an extent that he stinted his farm-servants so much that every one left him, and his immediate household affairs were conducted on such miserly principles that he even begrudged his wife the common necessaries of life!
His sole and absorbing ambition seemed to be mere “accumulation.”
“I am not more dishonest than the rest of people,” he would mutter, as he walked along the country roads and lanes. “There are hundreds who have failed beside myself, and are now in a flourishing business. Why cannot I be the same?”
Christianity, its virtues, and its responsibilities, hung very lightly on the shoulders of this old man.
He went to church, it is true, and sang and prayed as loudly and lustily as any member of it.
It was a “respectable thing” to belong to the church.
But it must be confessed that his most fervent prayer was in supplication for the framing of some law which prohibited all imprisonment for debt!
Sir Andrew, in his arm-chair, comfortably seated before the fire of his little farm-house, spent hours every evening in devising plans for recommencing business.
He was not particular as to what it might be, so that money should result from it.