The laws were specially severe against the social evil, and the homes of the colonists guarded not only against the crimes, but against all dalliance with evil, and imprudent conduct that might weaken the family bonds. The purity and bliss of the home might not be endangered with impunity, and the wayward were punished with wholesome severity. Here is a court record: “Martha Malbon, for consenting to goe to the farms with Will Harding at night, to a venison feast, and … for dalliance with said Harding was whiped.” How it fared with Will we are not told, but presume there was safety for him only in exile, as there was no marked discrimination in favor of his sex at that time. As connected with this case it is further recorded that “Goodman Hunt and his wife for keeping the councells of said William Harding, baking him a pastry and plum cakes, and keeping company with him on the Lord’s day, and she suffering Harding to kisse her, they being only admited to sojourn in this plantation on their good behavior, ordered to be sent out of this towne within one month after the date hereof; yea, in a shorter time, if any miscarriage be found in them.—December 3, 1651.” On another page I find it recorded that “Will Harding _was_ sentenced to be _severely_ whipped, fined £10, and presently to depart the plantation, and not retourne under the penalty of severer punishment.” A REMNANT OF SUMMER. By E. O. P. I went out in the dull autumnal day, Around me fell the rain, The bare trees shivered ’gainst the ashen sky, My heart was full of pain. High in a maple tree, upon a branch, The tree-trunk close beside, A little empty bird’s nest, snug and neat, My tearful eyes espied. And straightway, for the time, from grief and care My sad heart was beguiled, And on this remnant of the summer gone Through rain and tears I smiled. Not oft has life so dull and drear a day, But something bright appears To speak of sunshine and the spring time flown, And bring a smile through tears. THE LIFE OF A PLANET. By RICHARD PROCTOR. The material life of a planet is beginning to be recognized as being no less real than the life of a plant or of an animal. It is a different kind of life; there is neither consciousness such as we see in one of those forms of life, nor such systematic progress as we recognize in plant-life. But it is life, all the same. It has had a beginning, like all things which exist; and like them all, it must have an end.