Nor let it be objected that our view destroys the divine agency in restoring man from his lost condition, and makes him his own Saviour. God forbid that we should preach any such doctrine. The corruption of man's will is that which constitutes the necessity of spiritual aid. He has power to enslave himself to sin, but he has not a power of unaided self-recovery. He can subject himself to "the law of the flesh," but to free himself from this bondage, by his own strength, he is unable. God must work in him to will, and to do, before he regains absolute freedom, the freedom of holiness. That God can thus operate upon, or in the will, and that he can do it in consistency with man's freedom, we believe, because the Bible declares it. How he does it, we do not know. Nor is the elucidation of this point necessary to our belief. If it were, it could be demanded of us with no more propriety, than of those from whom we differ; for they too professedly admit both points; and although President Day can, on his theory, to a certain extent, explain what we cannot; yet back of his explanation lies the inexplicable, which he takes for granted with no more right than we do the rational consistency of our view of the will with the fact of divine influence. Humble faith we believe to be the proper attitude of the mind in relation to such doctrines of revelation. And though we would not go so far as to wish, with Sir Thomas Browne, that God had required us to believe absurdities—we may, without offence, rejoice that some mysteries are left as trials of our faith.

We believe, then, in the freedom of the will as against all absolute and necessary determination ab extra; because it is implied in the very idea of a will; because it is a fact of universal consciousness; and because it is the indispensable condition of responsibility and moral government. At the same time we believe that in our fallen race the freedom of the will-or which is the same thing, the will itself—is (not destroyed, but) so diseased and impaired, that without the aid of divine grace we are not competent to goodness and to self-recovery.

The logical connexion of these two doctrines we do not undertake to show. We have no bridge of metaphysical deduction wherewith to span the chasm that may seem to divide them. But nobody can, on this account, drive us from our twofold position. It is abundantly enough to render us impregnable, that the terms Freedom and Dependance, as applied to finite wills, and so far as any reasonable question is concerned, are not contraries, but simply diverse.

ART. IV.-1. An Eulogy on the Life and Character of John Marshall, Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States, delivered at the request of the Councils of Philadelphia, . on the 24th of September, 1835, by HORACE BINNEY. Philadelphia: 1835.

2. A Discourse upon the Life, Character, and Services of the Honorable John Marshall, LL. D. Chief Justice of the United States of America, pronounced on the 15th of October, [1835,] at the request of the Suffolk Bar, by JOSEPH STORY, LL. D. Published at their request. Boston: 1835.

WHEN, in one of our late numbers, we had occasion to review the decisions of the Supreme Court of the United States upon constitutional questions, it occurred to us that a somewhat more extended view of the life, character, and services of Mr. Chief Justice Marshall might be useful, than could properly find a place in that article. We avail ourselves of an early opportunity to carry into execution the intention which then floated loosely in our mind, and propose to lay before our readers some sketches of his biography, and literary and professional labors. If it be pleasant, "through the loop holes of retreat," to gaze upon the passing scenes of the busy world, it is not less pleasant, and it is generally far more instructive, to turn back upon the past, and to recall the images of those who, having acted their parts, upon the great theatre of human life, are now gathered to the dust of their ancestors, and have left to us the inheritance of their deeds and their fame. We are thus enabled, amidst the hot pursuits of business, and the eager and jealous rivalries of party strife, to pause for a moment, and to see, as it were, reflected from a distant mirror, men and things in their just and natural proportions, stripped of the pageantry which sometimes disguises their deformities, and deprived of the glare of those false lights which cheat the understanding even more than the senses. It has been sometimes said, and there is great truth in the remark, that if you would know what a man really is, you should inquire what audience he addresses: whether he addresses the present age or posterity-whether he seeks the applause of the giddy multitude of the hour, or the slow praise which rises from rather

than settles on the tomb-whether he aspires to that fame which is borne on the breath of the living, satisfying and satiating, or that which rises unbidden in the hearts of the wise and good in after generations, and, though it be voiceless to the world, speaks to the consciences and the souls of men with a thrilling power, the more irresistible because unsuspected. The example of a good man is rarely without its full influences; that of a great man, who has stamped his own character upon his own age, cannot fail to have much to do, for encouragement or admonition, with the destinies of those who come after him.

The biography of Mr. Chief Justice Marshall has not as yet been written, and it is quite uncertain when it will be. We do not, in this country, usually take much pains to gather up the private anecdotes, or memoirs, or papers of eminent men, until long after their decease, when most of their cotemporaries have passed away from the scene, and those who survive them, have in their recollection only faded pictures of the past, often obscure and dim, and generally without the freshness and warmth of early sketches. In other countries, a more earnest, and sometimes misplaced, solicitude is exhibited to preserve and narrate what is not well known; and to give us, almost at the moment of the death of the individual, the side lights of his character-the habits of his mind -his table talk his peculiar tastes-his various or close pursuits the familiar pleasantries of his private life-the occasional shades and sunshine which played about his character- his marked sayings-his dreamy as well as wide-awake speculations -and even the little touches of human infirmity, which, when not entirely graceful, are yet of a nature to let us into the inner man, and reconcile us somewhat to the steady contemplation of his greatness, by teaching us that he was mortal. We order all these things differently in America; sometimes from a delicacy of feeling towards the living-sometimes from a shy reserve→ sometimes from a dread of being deemed obtrusive or impertinent and sometimes from the notion that all our public characters should, like heroes upon the stage, be dressed up for dramatic effect, and preserve throughout the dignity of their holiday costume. There is nothing very reprehensible, or even perhaps inconvenient, in all this. But our sad, not But our sad, not to say our often shameful, neglect of the private papers of our great men, and our tardy justice to their fame, in leaving their memories to the chance misrepresentations and mistakes of friends and foes-and sometimes our equally mischievous indiscriminate publication of all that is left, without considering that much which is written by

men of a hasty and irritable and jealous temperament, may reflect dishonor upon themselves by its petulance, its injustice, and its resentments; these are matters of deeper regret, and more enduring mortification.

In the case of Mr. Chief Justice Marshall, we have few materials for the story of his life, beyond what may be gleaned from the eulogies delivered soon after his decease; and these are necessarily brief, and dwell principally upon his public acts, and the events connected with them. We are compelled to rely on these for the main outlines of our own sketch.

John Marshall was born at a place called Germantown, in the county of Fauquier, Virginia, on the 24th day of September, 1755. At the time of his birth, Fauquier was one of the frontier counties of the state, though now in the centre of its population. His grandfather, of the same name, was a native of Wales, and settled in Westmoreland county, in Virginia, about the year 1730, where he married Elizabeth Markham, a native of England. Of four sons and five daughters of this marriage, Thomas, the father of the chief justice, was the oldest, and, according to the law of primogeniture, then in force in Virginia, inherited the family estate, called the "Forest," consisting of a few hundred acres of poor land in the same county. He removed from Westmoreland to Fauquier, soon after he attained to manhood; and having intermarried with Mary Keith, by which marriage he became connected with the Randolphs, he set down upon a small farm, at the place, where John Marshall, his eldest son, was born.

Thomas Marshall, the father, was a man of extraordinary natural endowments, great vigor, and undaunted courage. His original education was very narrow and imperfect; but he overcame these disadvantages, by the diligence and perseverance with which he used all the means within his reach of enlarging his knowledge, and refining it by a studious attention to polite as well as to solid literature. He was from his birth a near neighbor of General Washington; they were associates during their boyhood, and continued friends through the whole course of their lives. Lord Fairfax, the then great proprietor of the northern neck of Virginia, which included Fauquier, employed General Washington as surveyor of the western part of his territory; and Washington employed his friend Marshall in the same business. When the revolution broke out, Thomas Marshall received the appointment of commander of the third Virginia regiment upon the continental establishment, and was in service

during the memorable campaign of 1776. He was engaged in the brilliant affair of the surprise and capture of the Hessians at Trenton, in December of that year. Afterwards, on the 11th of September, 1777, he was placed with his regiment on the right of the American army at the battle of Brandywine, and received the attack of Lord Cornwallis. The regiment, on that occasion, maintained its position against superior numbers, without losing an inch of ground, until both of its flanks were turned, its ammunition nearly expended, and one half of the officers and one third of the soldiers were killed or wounded. Colonel Marshall, whose horse had received two balls, then retired in good order to resume his position on the right of his division; but it had already retreated. His subsequent military services were equally honorable; and he maintained through life the character of a gallant soldier, an accomplished gentleman, and an unflinching patriot.

The scenes among which young Marshall was reared, were well calculated to nourish a spirit of independence, and to give vigor to a sound physical constitution. To them he probably owed that robust health, which carried him almost to eighty in the enjoyment of the mens sana in corpore sano. His imagination was warmed, and his genius kindled, and his self-reliance strengthened, by the variety of landscape about him. Nature every where around him exhibited its wild original features of irregular grandeur. He was accustomed to gaze on the mountains with a silent reverence- -to penetrate the deep gloom and pathless recesses of the forest-to slake his thirst in the sparkling rills which leaped from promontory to promontory, or trickled down the valley with a gentle murmur—and to repose himself after his wanderings in the darkling shades of some lonely dell. And thus the spirit of poetical enthusiasm was awakened in his heart a spirit, which became the companion of his youth, and the delight and solace of his riper years.

A frontier county, however, was not the place, among a rude and sparse population, where he could hope to cultivate a literary taste. His father, the companion and guide of his early days— by whose conversation he was enlightened, and by whose instructions he was elevated-saw too clearly, that he must go to other regions to acquire the rudiments of a solid education. He accordingly sent him, at the age of fourteen, into Westmoreland, at a distance of a hundred miles from home, where he remained under the tuition of a Mr. Campbell, a clergyman of great respectability, above a year. He then returned home, and conti