"Pooh! that is the old preacher's voice," said Mr. Wheatley, pushing the door partly open. But he paused immediately; for the scene within had a simple solemnity in it which affected even him. There lay old William Thornton, stretched upon a faded bed, with his head turned partly away from us, but with the long, whitish hair, uncombed and rough, scattered on the pillow. Kneeling at the other side of the bed was the good old man, Uncle Jack. A book was open before him, and he was reading aloud that sublime chapter in the Gospel wherein the Saviour teaches his disciples how to pray. His voice was fine, and, notwithstanding his great age, unbroken; and there was a peculiar tone of loving confidence in it as he read the only perfect prayer, that was very touching. He laid particular emphasis on the words,--"_Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us_." But when he stopped, Mr. Thornton remarked, in a very feeble voice,-- "Well, it is very fine; I always thought so; yet I don't half understand it, old man. Let us hear what you make of it." "I doubt, master, that I am competent to make much of it, where you, so much better taught, do not understand it," answered Uncle Jack. "I don't know," said the dying man. "You have thought of nothing but such things, and I have thought of them too little, perhaps." "Well, I will try," said the negro. "You see, sir, there is no piece of writing that I know of in which every word has so much meaning. It first begins by teaching us what God is." "I don't see that," said Mr. Thornton. "But go on--go on." "It tells us that He is a Father to those who pray unto Him sincerely--One who has the feelin? and affection of a parent--not alone the Being who created us, but who still regards us as His children, however wayward and sinful--who is as ready to be reconciled to us as a Father to an erring child, and to give us all good things as a Father gives good gifts unto his children. Oh, what a tender idea it gives us of our God, when we are taught by His own word to address Him as our Father! But then it shows us His greatness also--His majesty and power. It is not an earthly Father whom we address, who may not be able to give us what we seek--who may have no power to protect, no means of comforting or blessing us; but our Father which is in Heaven. That does not mean here or there--in this place or that; but above all, ruling all, upon the throne of His majesty and His power, in the centre of, and throughout all His universe, in the Heaven of His own glory and love. "Well may the prayer go on, '_Hallowed be thy name!_' Let His great name always be sacred; but, above all, let it be hallowed when it is written, '_Our Father which art in Heaven!_' "'_Thy kingdom come!_' are the next words." "Ay, that I do not understand," said Mr. Thornton, faintly. "Why should people pray to die when they want to live? I could never understand that."