us! For, Brethren,
what man is there who would put up with it if a friend of his began a
conversation with him, and yet, just when he was ready to reply to what
his friend said, should discover that he was paying no attention to him
but was saying something to someone else? Or supposing you were to
appeal to a judge and were to appoint a place for him to hear your
appeal, and then suddenly, while you were talking with him, were to put
him aside and begin to gossip with a friend! How long would he put up
with you? And yet God puts up with the hearts of so many who pray to Him
and who yet are thinking of other things, even evil things, even wicked
things, things hateful to God; for even to think of unnecessary things
is an insult to Him with Whom you have begun to talk. For your prayer is
a conversation with God. When you read, God speaks to you; when you
pray, you speak to God.... And you may picture God saying to you: "You
forget how often you have stood before Me and have thought of such idle
and superfluous things and have so rarely poured out to Me an attentive
and definite prayer!" But _Thou, O Lord, art sweet and mild_! Thou art
sweet, bearing with me! It is from weakness that I slip away! Heal me
and I shall stand; strengthen me and I shall be firm! But until Thou
dost so, bear with me, for _Thou, O Lord, art sweet and mild_ (_Enarr.
in Ps._ lxxxv. 7).

_S. Augustine: Praise the Lord, O my soul!_[218] What mean these words,
Brethren? Do we not praise the Lord? Do we not sing hymns day by day? Do
not our mouths, each according to their measure, sound forth day by day
the praises of God? And what is it we praise? It is a great Thing that
we praise, but that wherewith we praise is weak as yet. When does the
singer fill up the praises of Him Whom he sings? A man stands and sings
before God, often for a long space; but oftentimes, whilst his lips move
to frame the words of his song, his thoughts fly away to I know not what
desires! And so, too, our mind has sometimes been fixed on praising God
in a definite manner, but our soul has flitted away, led hither and
thither by divers desires and anxious cares. And then our mind, as
though from up above, has looked down upon the soul as it flitted to and
fro, and has seemed to turn to it and address its uneasy
wanderings--saying to it: _Praise the Lord, O my soul!_ Why art thou
anxious about other things than Him? Why busy thyself with the mortal
things of earth? And then our