Daniel Webster, in 1814, while he was a member of Congress from New Hampshire, wrote to his brother: “There is no man in the court that strikes me like Marshall. He is a plain man, looking very much like Colonel Adams, and about three inches taller. I have never seen a man of whose intellect I had a higher opinion.” In the year 1808, when Judge Story wrote what has just been quoted, Marshall was sketched in chalk by St. Mémin. It is a beautiful portrait, which its present owner, Mr. Thomas Marshall Smith, of Baltimore, John Marshall’s great-grandson, has now generously allowed to be copied for the use of the public. It was in 1830 that Chester Harding painted for the Boston Athenæum the full-length portrait, of which, a little later, he made the replica, afterwards purchased, by subscription, for the Harvard Law School. “I consider it,” says Harding, “a good picture.[50] I had great pleasure in painting _the whole_ of such a man.... When I was ready to draw the figure into his picture, I asked him, in order to save time, to come to my room in the evening.... An evening was appointed; but he could not come until after the ‘consultation,’ which lasts until about eight o’clock.” It will be remembered that the judges, at that time, used to lodge together, in one house. “It was a warm evening,” continues Harding, “and I was standing on my steps waiting for him, when he soon made his appearance, but, to my surprise, without a hat. I showed him into my studio, and stepped back to fasten the front door, when I encountered [several gentlemen] who knew the judge very well. They had seen him passing by their hotel in his hatless condition, and with long strides, as if in great haste, and had followed, curious to know the cause of such a strange appearance.... He said that the consultation lasted longer than he expected, and he hurried off as quickly as possible to keep his appointment with me.” He declined the offer of a hat on his return: “Oh no, it is a warm night; I shall not need one.” A good many artists tried their hands on the Chief Justice, and with every sort of result. Some depicted a dull and wooden person, some a worthy but feeble one. Other portraits, commended for their likeness to the original, differ much in what they represent.[51] In the written descriptions of him, also, one needs to compare several before he can feel much assurance of the true image. In an anonymous account of him, preserved in Van Santvoord’s “Lives of the Chief Justices,”[52] the reader seems to perceive the humorous exaggerations of an entertaining and practiced writer, but, taken with due allowance, the description may well be preserved.