The whole of that section of New Jersey in which the events of our story occurred, has greatly changed since the period of which we write. Sweetwater itself is in decay; the Forks is in ruins; and vast portions of the original forest have fallen before the woodman’s axe. A railroad runs close to the place where the hut of the refugee stood; the scream of the locomotive is fast driving away the few deer left in the region. As we send these sheets to press, we notice that a land company is in operation in the neighborhood, and is issuing proposals to furnish “cheap homesteads,” according to the approved fashion of these modern associations. All things have changed. If the author has succeeded in describing, however faintly, a region, a society, and a state of manners already nearly eradicated, he will be content to let the genius of improvement complete the work of destruction, and forever remove all traces of the ruder, but more picturesque past.