He had lost a large portion of his princely fortune by the British and after the war closed was the child of adversity. For a time his friends assisted him in the prosecution of several speculative projects, all of which proved abortive, injuring them without benefiting him. He finally sunk under a ponderous weight of affliction which produced paralysis, a second attack of which closed his useful and eventful career at Richmond, Virginia, on the 10th of October 1797. Under all these adverse and trying circumstances his reputation did not suffer. He was known to be an honest man and poverty _then_ was not an unpardonable sin or even _prima facie_ evidence of dishonesty. He lost none of his well-earned fame as an able and faithful public servant and worthy upright man. His private character was pure. He fulfilled all the relations of life with fidelity. He was one of the most polished gentlemen of the old school. His name is justly placed high upon the list of enduring fame. He was a faithful sentinel in the cause of freedom and contributed largely in consummating the Independence we now enjoy, the FREEDOM we inherit, the LIBERTY we are bound to cherish, protect, preserve and perpetuate with our lives, fortunes and sacred honors and transmit it to our children in all the beauty of pristine purity. ZEBULON BUTLER. Wyoming Valley is the Paradise of Pennsylvania. Captivating in its location--rich in its soil--irrigated by the crystal Susquehanna--bordered with magnificent scenery of romantic grandeur--enlivened by beautiful farm-houses and productive fields--crowned with the flourishing town of Wilkesbarre--ornamented by several small villages of tasteful neatness--refreshed by cooling springs and mountain streams filled with sportive trout--evergreen forests adjacent towering to the clouds and full of game--graduated hills on every side rich with minerals and reaching to the mountains--a healthful atmosphere rendered pure by the untiring operations of nature's laboratory--inhabited by intelligent, enterprising, hospitable people--it is one of the most beautiful and delightful valleys in our expansive country. Its early history renders it sacred to the philanthropist and is read with thrilling sensations of painful sympathy. It has engaged the pens of our best historians--our ablest poets. It has been painted with the finest touches of our boldest artists. When strangers pass the narrow confines of the majestic mountains on the south and are ushered into this grand amphitheatre of creative wisdom--they gaze with pleasing surprise and wonder at the weakness of the most vivid descriptions they have read, compared with the sublime reality of the enrapturing view before them.