No young man is worthy of a wife who has not sense enough to determine, even after a few interviews, what the bent of a lady's mind is;--whether she listens with most pleasure to conversation which is wholly unimproving, or whether she gladly turns from it, when an opportunity offers, to subjects which are above the petty chit-chat or common but fashionable scandal of the day; and above all, avoids _retailing_ it. He knows, or _may_ know, without a 'seven years' acquaintance, whether she spends a part of her leisure time in reading, or whether the whole is spent in dressing, visiting, or conversing about plays, actors, theatres, &c. And if she reads a part of the time, the fault must be his own, if he does not know whether she relishes any thing but the latest novel, or the most light--not to say empty--periodical. Let it be remembered, then, by every young man that the fault is his own, if he do not give himself time, before he forms an engagement that is to last for life, to ascertain whether his friendship is to be formed with a person who is desirous of improvement, or with one who, living only for pleasure, is 'dead while she liveth.' You will say it is difficult to ascertain whether she is fond of children or not. But I doubt it. Has she then no young brothers, or sisters, or cousins? Are there no children in the neighborhood? For if there are,--if there is but one, and she sees that individual but once a week,--the fact may easily be ascertained. If she loves that child, the child will love her; and its eye will brighten when it sees her, or hears her name mentioned. Children seldom fail to keep debt and credit in these matters, and they know how to balance the account, with great ingenuity. These remarks are made, not in the belief that they will benefit those who are already blinded by fancy or passion, but with the hope that some more fortunate reader may reflect on the probable chances of happiness or misery, and pause before he leaps into the vortex of matrimonial discord. No home can ever be a happy one to any of its inmates, where there is no maternal love, nor any desire for mental or moral improvement. But where these exist, in any considerable degree, and the original attachment was founded on correct principles, there is always hope of brighter days, even though clouds at present obscure the horizon. No woman who loves her husband, and desires to make continual improvement, will long consent to render those around her unhappy.