Eastern times. [volume] (Bath, Me.) 1846-1857, 1855-06-07
A Patent Sermon.
My text, this morning, is contained in these

WOIQS -
How solve1ess is woman!
How tender is woman !
How loving is womanI
How childlike is woman!
My hearers-sure enough-how solveless
is woman She is an unguessable riddle-a
most intricate enigma flower which by an
alyzing, no one can tell to a certainty whether
1t be poisonous or innoxiods-not always.-
She has been with man from the beginning,
and he has not found her out yet. She Is
comparatively an unexplored country, an al
phabet of hieroglyphics, magnetic mystery.
Nobody knows what her heart contains
Sometimes it seems stuffed with love, tender
ness and sympathy and at others with moth
ing but grit and gravel. 1t won't answer to
shake her; if you do you cause the acids and
alkalles In her nature TO come in contact, and
then such an effervesence takes place as might
lower the ambition of perlash and cider. Like
the month of April she is all sunshine and
showers. Many teardrop of hers dries and
eyaporates in the warm light or smile, ere it
has chance to fall and many bright smile
is suddenly quenched by sprinkle from some
passing cloud of sorrow, about the size of a
bed blanket. Grief bubbles up from her bos-
ON, to burst in an atmosphere of joy and
joys, like autumnal flowers, spring from the
warm beds of her heart, to be cut down by
the Sudden frost nf rripf A cJ
is woman! She is made up of modesty, bold
ness, beauty, silks, satins, jealousy, love, ha-
tired, horse hair, whalebone, piety, paint, gum
elastic, bears grease, sympathy, tears, smiles,
affection. She talks with her tongue, speaks
with her eyes, Is eloquent In her actions, ana
vet can't understand her.
My friends-how tender as chicken and
as tough as an old gobbler. She must be
screened from the hot summers sun, sheltered
from the storms, and protected from the blasts
of winter, and yet, if she make up her mind
to it, she can out-heat the sun, face north
easter, and be match for the-I wonx say
whom. But inwardly she is as much softer
than mortal man, as beeswax is softer than
brick-bat. Her sympathies are as delicate as
the down under an angels wing, and her love
appears as fresh and unfading amid the sor-
rows of adversely, as the evergreen wreath
that encircles the bald brow of winter. Her
tenderness is too tough TO be destroyed by
whatever chance fortune or time may bring
tough as tripe and twice as common.
My dear friends-how lofty is woman! No
matter whether born in a cellar, she can some
times be as lofty as the garrett When she
once gets her back up, oh cats and broom
sticks look out for yourselves She is as
high as Olympus and as savage as sausage
machine. In her wrath she is strong as IT,
ger, and terrible as tornado. She, can blaze
away as though the powers above and below
were coming to close quarters but in few
minutes it is all over, and nobody killed.
When she comes down from the mountains
whence she has been rolling big stones upon
people below-softens down to Jelly, and be-
comes as quiescent as goose pond after
tempest.
My hearers-how loving is woman Aye
she is amazingly sticky in her attachments.
She will cling to the chosen object of her
heart like possum to a gum tree; and you
can't separate her without swapping strings
that no art can mend, and leaying portion of
her soul upon the upper leather of her affec-
tions. She will sometimes see something to
love where others can discover nothing even
to admire and, when her fondness is once
fastened upon fellow, it stays there like glue
and molasses in bushy head OF hair.
My hearers-how childlike, withal, is wom-
man A plaything herself, she is fond eff ev-
erything in the worlds great toy-shop. Her
home is the realm of fancy-her existence is
kind of ideal realty-her very miseries are
mingled with pleasing romance-her pres
ence is always bright, and her features still
pleased with every posey that pops its head
above the weeds of this wicked world, and
have no thorns to modest me while gathering
the wild flowers of Imagination Childlike,
woman is ever happy. Tickled with every
rainbow tinted bubble that floats upon the wave
of time; as antic as young coon in the
moonlight, and as merry as cricket she dane
es in the sunlight Of joy, and seems to have
eyery endeavor to coax US, male, moonly NOR
tails, into brighter and happier paths.-Amcri-
can Paper.