A band of loyal Georgians are in Washington, praying that the power of the Government may be exerted for their protection. They have seen the President, who did not hesitate to give them some kind, strong words; but it remains to be shown whether Congress will hearken to them. The delegation is composed mostly of colored men, with Governor Rufus B. Bullock at their head. A meeting was called at Lincoln Hall, by the citizens of the District, to show their sympathy for the cause which these Southern men represent. Mayor Bowen presided; John W. Forney made the welcoming address; while Senator Thayer and Representative Maynard spoke some good, strong, manly words, which must have brought the blush to Congress if Congress had been present to hear it. The great feature of the evening were the speeches made by the Southern men. Governor Bullock said little. Governor Scott of South Carolina, though unaccustomed to public speaking, made his short sentences into arrows, and fired them at the audience with the precision of a William Tell. Governor Scott has been a soldier. The exigencies of war stranded him on Southern soil. He has taken root there, where he has grown into a goodly tree, and not a single Ku Klux has yet dared to lay the axe at the root of it. It will always remain a secret “who struck Billy Patterson” and why the noble governor of Georgia should be surnamed Bullock, for in personal appearance he bears not the slightest resemblance to that fiery, untamed animal. It is true, he has a handsome shock of hair on his head, but he is as destitute of horns as the administration is of knavery, and a better looking white man is seldom to be found. Most noticeable on the platform was Simeon Beard, chairman of the Georgia delegation, a man whose superb oratory and strange personal appearance are most difficult to describe. Take away the prejudice of the race which, alas! descends to us in the same way as the color of our eyes or the length of our hair--a prejudice which education, prayer, or any other softening, refining influence of civilization never can remove--rend this veil asunder, and we should see a man that we could honor as President. Simeon Beard has the lithe, erect form, and the smooth, raven locks of the Indian. Both African and white blood course in his veins; his complexion is that pale, rich brown--the same color with which nature loves to tinge the leaves in mid-autumn. But the spirit of some animal long kept at bay looks out of his deepset eyes, and his words burn as if they had been forged in a redhot furnace. He made the audience feel the print of the nails in far-away Georgia. Only a little longer will Frederick Douglass stand the acknowledged mouthpiece of the mixed races and the darker stratum which underlies it.