In 1782, Mr. Middleton was again elected to Congress, where he continued until November, when he visited his family, from whom he had long been separated. At the declaration of peace he declined a seat in the national legislature, believing the interests of his own state required his services at home. He was highly instrumental in restoring order, harmony, and stability in the government of South Carolina. He was several times a member of its legislature, and used every exertion to advance its prosperity. During the intervals of his public duties he spent his time in improving his desolated plantation, the place of his birth, and of the tomb of his venerable ancestors. He once more participated in the enjoyments of domestic felicity and fondly anticipated years of happiness. But, alas! how uncertain are all sublunary things. In the autumn of 1786, he was attacked with an intermittent fever, which paved the way for disease that terminated his life on the first of January, 1787, leaving a wife, two sons and six daughters, to mourn their irreparable loss. By the public he was deeply lamented. His memory was held in great veneration by his contemporaries. He had a strong hold upon the affections of his fellow citizens. Those who knew him _best_ esteemed him _most_. In his private character he was a consolation to his friends, an ornament to society, a consistent, honest, and virtuous man. His wife lived until 1814, highly respected and beloved. The example of a good man is visible philosophy; the memory of departed worth “lives undivided, operates unspent.” JAMES WILSON. Among the strange freaks of human nature is that of inconsistency, showing itself in as many shapes and forms as are exhibited by the kaleidescope, but of a contrary character. One of its most odious features is persecution, prompted by jealousy and promulgated by slander and falsehood. Great and good men are often the victims of unprincipled and designing partisans, who stop at nothing and stoop to every thing calculated to accomplish their unholy desires. In recurring to the eventful period of the American revolution, we would naturally suppose that party spirit found no place in the bosoms of any of those who advocated the principles of liberty; that all were united in the common cause against the common enemy. This is the impression upon the minds of many, perhaps all who are not familiar with the history of the local politics of that period. But far otherwise was the fact. Many of the best men of that trying time were scourged and lacerated, and their noblest exertions for a time paralyzed by the reckless hand of party spirit. No one, perhaps, suffered more from this source, and no one gave less room for censure than JAMES WILSON.