In fact, the forest, left so long in its aboriginal savagery, is about to be regenerated. A railroad is to be constructed, this year, which will place Hanover and the centre of the forest within one hour's travel of Philadelphia; and it is scarcely too much to anticipate, that, within five years, thousands of acres, now dense with pines and cedars of a hundred rings, will be laid out in blooming market-gardens and in fields of generous corn. Such little cultivation as has hitherto been attempted has been attended by the most astonishing results; and persons have actually returned from the West and South, in order to occupy farms in the neighborhood of Hanover. In one respect _c'est dommage_; one is grieved to part with the game that is now so plentiful in the Pines. Owing to the beneficent provision of the laws of New Jersey, which stringently forbid every description of hunting in the State during alternate periods of five years, game of all kinds has an opportunity to multiply; and at the termination of the season of rest, in October, 1858, there was some noble hunting in the neighborhood of Hanover. Five years hence, bears and deer will be a tradition, panthers and raccoons a myth, partridges and quails a vain and melancholy recollection, in what shall then be known as what was once the Pines. * * * * * THE LAST BIRD. Little Bird that singest Far atop, this warm December day, Heaven bestead thee, that thou wingest, Ere the welcome song is done, thy way To more certain weather, Where, built high and solemnly, the skies, Shaken by no storm together, Fixed in vaults of steadfast sapphire rise! There, the smile that mocks us Answers with its warm serenity; There, the prison-ice that locks us Melts forgotten in a purple sea. There, thy tuneful brothers, In the palm's green plumage waiting long, Mate them with the myriad others, Like a broken rainbow bound with song. Winter scarce is hidden, Veiled within this fair, deceitful sky; Fly, ere, from his ambush bidden, He descend in ruin swift and nigh! By the Summer stately, Truant, thou wast fondly reared and bred: Dost thou linger here so lately, Knowing not thy beauteous friend is dead,-- Like to hearts that, clinging Fervent where their first delight was fed, Move us with untimely singing Of the hopes whose blossom-time is sped? Beauties have their hour, Safely perched on the Spring-budding tree; For the ripened soul is trust and power, And, beyond, the calm eternity. * * * * * THE UTAH EXPEDITION: ITS CAUSES AND CONSEQUENCES. [Concluded.]