Let us turn our eyes to a more fruitful subject; let us consider the present condition of the United States, and the particular benefits that North Carolina must reap by the proposed form of government. Without money no government can be supported; and Congress can raise no money under the present constitution. They have not the power to make commercial treaties, because they cannot preserve them when made. Hence it is, that we are the prey of every nation. We are indulged in such foreign commerce as must be hurtful to us; we are prohibited from that which might be profitable; and we are accordingly told, that in the last two years, the thirteen states have hardly paid into the treasury as much as should have been paid by a single state. Intestine commotions in some of the states—paper money in others—a want of inclination in some, and a general suspicion throughout the union that the burden is unequally laid—added to the general loss of trade—have produced a general bankruptcy, and loss of honor. We have borrowed money of Spain—she demands the principal, but we cannot pay the interest. It is a circumstance perfectly humiliating, that we should remain under obligations to that nation. We are considerably indebted to France; but she is too generous to insist upon what she knows we cannot pay, either the principal or interest. In the hour of distress, we borrowed money in Holland; not from the government but from private citizens. Those who were called the patriots, were our friends, and they are oppressed in their turn by hosts of enemies. They will soon have need of money. At this hour, we are not able to pay the interest of their loan. What is to be done? Will you borrow money again from other citizens of that oppressed republic, to pay the interest of what you borrowed from their brethren? This would a painful expedient: but our want of government may render it necessary. You have two or three ministers abroad; they must soon return home, for they cannot be supported. You have four or five hundred troops scattered along the Ohio to protect the frontier inhabitants, and give some value to your lands; those troops are ill paid, and in a fair way for being disbanded. There is hardly a circumstance remaining—hardly one external mark—by which you can deserve to be called a nation. You are not in a condition to resist the most contemptuous enemy. What is there to prevent an Algerine pirate from landing on your coast, and carrying your citizens into slavery? You have not a single sloop of war. Does one of the states attempt to raise a little money by imposts or other commercial regulations? A neighbouring state immediately alters her laws, and defeats the revenue by throwing the trade into a different channel. Instead of supporting or assisting, we are uniformly taking the advantage of one another. Such an assemblage of people are not a nation. Like a dark cloud, without cohesion or firmness, we are ready to be torn