my dear Sir, I will candidly confess that in my opinion it is of little avail to give them to Congress.”  He was already clearly of opinion that the existing system was hopeless, and the following spring he wrote still more sharply as to the state of public affairs to Henry Lee, in Congress.  “My sentiments,” he said, “with respect to the federal government are well known.  Publicly and privately have they been communicated without reserve; but my opinion is that there is more wickedness than ignorance in the conduct of the States, or, in other words, in the conduct of those who have too much influence in the government of them; and until the curtain is withdrawn, and the private views and selfish principles upon which these men act are exposed to public notice, I have little hope of amendment without another convulsion.”

He did not confine himself, however, to letters, important as the work done in this way was, but used all his influence toward practical measures outside of Congress, of whose action he quite despaired.  The plan for a commercial agreement between Maryland and Virginia was concerted at Mount Vernon, and led to a call to all the States to meet at Annapolis for the same object.  This, of course, received Washington’s hearty approval and encouragement, but he evidently regarded it, although important, as merely a preliminary step to something wider and better.  He wrote to Lafayette describing the proposed gathering at Annapolis, and added:  “A general convention is talked of by many for the purpose of revising and correcting the defects of the federal government; but whilst this is the wish of some, it is the dread of others, from an opinion that matters are not yet sufficiently ripe for such an event.”  This expressed his own feeling, for although he was entirely convinced that only a radical reform would do, he questioned whether the time had yet arrived, and whether things had become bad enough, to make such a reform either possible or lasting.  He was chiefly disturbed because he felt that there was “more wickedness than ignorance mixed in our councils,” and he grew more and more anxious as public affairs declined without apparently producing a reaction.  The growing contempt shown by foreign nations and the arrogant conduct of Great Britain especially alarmed him, while the rapid sinking of the national reputation stung him to the quick.  “I do not conceive,” he wrote to Jay, in August, 1786, “we can exist long as a nation without having lodged somewhere a power which will pervade the whole Union in as energetic a manner as the authority of the state governments extends over the several States.”  Thus with unerring judgment he put his finger on the vital point in the whole question, which was the need of a national government that should deal with the individual citizens of the whole country and not with the States.  “To be fearful,” he continued, “of investing Congress, constituted as that body is, with ample authorities for national purposes, appears to