George waited impatiently for the end of the political controversy, determined to introduce his friend to the colonel. He soon had an opportunity, for the colonel, finding himself beset by a set of unreasonable secessionists, made a sweeping declaration. “Gentlemen,” said he, “let me tell you a modest fact: seven-eighths of the secession fire-eaters don't know what the proper meaning of government is: I make the charge against my own people-but it is true.” “Traitor! traitor!--traitor to South Carolina,” was sounded at the top of a dozen voices. “Then, if I am such in your opinions, I'm gratified to know that my feelings are my own. Good-night!” Thus saying, he withdrew from the party, and making his way for the door, was saluted by George, who introduced him to his friend, the Captain. The colonel was a very sociable, communicative man; and taking the Captain's arm, as they walked along, entered into an interesting conversation about his voyage and first visit to the city, at the same time displaying his good sense in not trying to force the great things of South Carolina into his mind. We, a few weeks afterward, had the good fortune to hear the legal abilities of this gentleman displayed in a plea at the bar. There were many good points in it, which, if not legally pointed, were said well; yet we should class him as belonging to the loud school. The Captain, thinking it a good opportunity to make some inquiries about his steward, as they proceeded, commenced in the following manner: “Your laws are very stringent in South Carolina, I believe, sir!” “Well, no sir,” said the colonel, “if we except those which govern the niggers; they of necessity must be so; we have had so many emeutes with them, that no law can be made too strict in its bearings. We have so many bad niggers poured in upon us, that the whole class is becoming corrupted.” “Your laws, of course, make a distinction between good and bad niggers, and free negroes?” interposed the Captain.