Books

"You have his countenance very correctly given in the family portrait, which Stuart painted. It was not his way to volunteer advice. Once, and I am sorry to say once only, as we sat together after dinner, he turned to me with great seriousness, and spoke to me earnestly and at considerable length on the importance of my becoming well grounded in English literature, — and I very well remember that he especially directed my attention to the ‘ Lives of the Poets,' by Dr. Johnson;
"Thus I answer your inquiries, and remain ever very faithfully yours,
Geo. Bancroft.

James’s copy of “Lives of the Poets” sits on my bookshelf, with his enthusiastic comments in the frontispiece; “Notwithstanding the Errors and Instances of Partiality and Misrepresentation . . . the Lives of the Poets cannot be perused by any reader of taste without a great Degree of Pleasure.” The book was printed in Dublin in 1779, by a consortium of thirteen gentlemen (Messrs. Whitestone, Williams, Colles, et al.). Holding the book, I am drawn to the consistency of the typography and the presswork; the impression “bites” into the old style laid rag bond. The book is bound in calfskin, although curiously, pages 531 through 534 are bound in error between the title page and the table of contents. Books of this period were substantial objects of considerable value, the labor of many hours of painstaking labor, each individual letter set by hand, each sheet hand fed into the press, the impression the result of the pressman's skill and brawn, each signature hand folded with an ivory bone, then individually sewn and bound by the bookbinder.

James appreciated the niceties of style and he loved books. While he never had the public personality of his younger brother Tom, his friends and family appreciated the generous warmth of his personality. He was a constant reader and a bibliophile. He collected books even while living in Haiti, and was one of the original subscribers to the Boston Athenaeum, and a trustee for many years. In 1822, when the Athenaeum’s collection of books and artwork had grown to the point where it needed a permanent home, he donated his Mansion on Pearl Street to the growing society. Ralph Waldo Emerson appreciated the house “royally fitted up for elegance & comfort” where he enjoyed its amenities with his literary friends and colleagues.

That same year James sat to have his portrait painted by Gilbert Stuart. The two were good friends and James had a cellar full of excellent Madeira wine which they both enjoyed. Presumably, the portrait was coming along quite well as they spent considerable time together. The sitting was unfortunately cut short however, when James died rather suddenly from pneumonia on the first day of August.

Shortly after the death, James’s brother Tom called at the studio, expecting to see the portrait almost complete. There was only an initial sketch on the easel, and Colonel Perkins was outraged. Stuart did his best to explain the situation, but Tom stormed out, “Very well, Mr. Stuart, you have inflicted an irreplaceable loss by your dilatoriness, and I shall never enter your studio again!” The words had particular effect as Thomas Handasyd Perkins was the richest man in Boston, and the acknowledged leader of the Brahmin caste.

Stuart worked feverishly from memory for the next several weeks. Meeting Colonel Perkins by chance in the street, he begged him to reconsider and visit his studio. Tom relented; “I entered the studio, and there on the easel I saw the perfect portrait of my dear brother, which (pointing to the picture on the wall) now hangs before you.”

The Athenaeum Trustees attended their late benefactor’s funeral en masse, and commissioned their first purchase, a copy of the portrait of their benefactor.

The Athenaeum portrait varies in several ways from the family portrait. In the family portrait, James sits at a desk with a sheaf of papers, a few books, and a quill pen. His gaze is direct and completely self-assured. The Athenaeum portrait embellishes his surrounding considerably. He sits, a public personality, slightly bemused, holding an open letter, before a Roman column and tapestry, with shelves of books in the background.

An editorial in the Commercial Advertiser noted that James gave $20,000 to the Boston Athenaeum in 1821, and left $25,000 to Harvard University in his estate, and lamented that "We are astonished that capitalists, in their liberal moments, never think of Yale College. Cambridge, before, had so much money that they hardly knew what to do with it - while modest and unassuming Yale..."

In 1826 the Athenaeum commissioned Stuart to paint a portrait of Thomas Handasyd Perkins to hang alongside his brother James. Two years later, it was the Trustees who were outraged by Stuart’s dilatory nature, when Stuart died, deeply in debt as usual, and the unfinished portrait found in the studio was not the commissioned painting, but the portrait being painted for Mrs. Perkins.