September 4, 1875

Paris, 4 Sept. 75

My dear Theo,

I’m sending you herewith my letter for Ma’s birthday, please enclose it with yours. I’ve bought a book about Michel, with etchings after his paintings; I’ll send it to you as soon as I’ve finished it. Michel, though, isn’t nearly so beautiful as that landscape described in that passage in Adam Bede, which we both found so moving. Bonington, too, almost painted it, and yet that isn’t it either.


When you’ve finished the book I’d like to ask you to give it in my name to Uncle Cor to read, when you have the opportunity of course, though I’m giving it to you. I see the paintings themselves, so naturally you can have the description and etchings after them.


My regards to the Haanebeeks, Carbentuses, Van Stockums, Mauve, Rooses &c. if the occasion presents itself. I wish you the very best. Ever

Your loving brother
Vincent

Give the book on Michel to Mr Tersteeg to read, too.

September 2, 1875

[Letterhead: Goupil Paris]

Paris, 2 Sept. 1875

My dear Theo,

This morning I heard from Pa and from you the news of Uncle Jan’s death. Such things make us say, ‘O Lord, join us intimately to one another and let our love for Thee make that bond ever stronger’ and ‘Fear God, and keep his commandments: for this is the whole duty of man’.

In the first crate of paintings going to Holland you’ll find a few lithographs and that engraving after Rembrandt. The two lithographs after Bonington will no doubt be to your liking. At the same time I’m sending a couple of photos for Pa of pictures by Jules Breton and Corot; I’ll write ‘for Helvoirt’ on the back.

I’ve never heard of the painter Pynas you write about; I’m eager to see the painting in question. Nor do I know that lithograph after Diaz, ‘A monk’.

Last Sunday I was in the Louvre (on Sunday I often go either there or to the Luxembourg); I wish you could see the Van Ostade, his own family, himself, his wife and, I believe, 8 children, all in black, the wife and girls with white caps and neckerchiefs in a stately old Dutch room with a large fireplace, oak wainscoting and ceiling and whitewashed walls with paintings in black frames. In the corner of the room a large bed with blue curtains and blanket. Rembrandt’s ‘Supper at Emmaus’, of which I wrote, has been engraved, Messrs G&Co. will publish the engraving in the autumn. Do you ever visit Borchers? It seems to me that his mother is a distinguished lady. Go out often, if you can, I mean of course to visit Caroline van Stockum, the Carbentuses, Haanebeeks, Borchers &c.; not to Kraft’s or Marda’s, you understand! Or it would have to be because you couldn’t do otherwise, just once or twice can do no harm.

How are things at the gallery? I know all about how it can be sometimes, but anyway, do whatever your hand finds to do.

And I wish you the very best, and write again soon. Ever,

Your loving brother
Vincent

Herewith a note for Borchers. Regards to everyone at the Rooses’ and to all who ask after me. B. tells me that Weehuizen died, I didn’t know, were you there?

Between August 16 and September 1, 1875

[Letterhead: Goupil Paris]


My dear Theo,

Thanks for your last letter and for the poem by Rückert.

On Sunday I went again to Mr Bersier, his sermon was based on the text ‘It is not lawful for thee’, he concluded with ‘Happy are they for whom life has all its thorns’.

Here are some words which I know Uncle Vincent is very fond of:

‘Rejoice, young man, in thy youth; and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes: but know thou, that for all these things God will bring thee into judgement. Remove sorrow from thy heart, and put away evil from thy flesh: for childhood and youth are vanity.

Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh,  when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them.’ Yet I find even more beautiful:

‘Fear God, and keep his commandments: for this is the whole duty of man.’ And ‘Thy will be done’ and ‘Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil’.

Herewith a note for Mr Tersteeg, asking him if he would frame 2 engravings, ‘Good Friday’ and ‘St Augustine’, which you’ll find in the next crate. And will you please be so kind as to send them to Helvoirt around 10 Sept. I’d really like them to be from both of us, so that you pay 2.50 guilders towards the frames. I told Mr Tersteeg that you’d write and tell me what they cost and then I’d send him the money. You can give me the 2.50 guilders when we see each other. That probably won’t be before Christmas; I believe it’s better not to ask for any time off before then. This evening I’m going to dine with Mr Hamman. Adieu, write again soon, and believe me


Your loving brother

Vincent

August 13, 1875

Letterhead: Goupil Paris]

Paris, 13 August 1875

My dear Theo,

I had wanted to write to you earlier. I’m glad that Pa has accepted the call to Etten; under the circumstances I also think it good that Willemien is going along with Anna. I’d also have liked to be with all of you that Sunday at Helvoirt; have I already told you that I was with Soek and his family at Ville-d’Avray that day? I was surprised to find 3 paintings by Corot in the church there.

On Sunday last and Sunday a fortnight ago I went to Mr Mercier’s church and heard him speak on ‘all things work together for good to them that love God’ (in Dutch it says ‘for those who love God all things will work together for good’) and on ‘He created man in his own image’, it was glorious and grand. You should also go to church every Sunday if you can, even if it isn’t so very beautiful;  do that, you won’t regret it. Have you ever been to hear the Rev. Zubli?

In the list of what I have hanging in my room I forgot:


N. Maes The nativity
Hamon ‘If I were sombre winter’
Ed. Frère The seamstresses
ditto A cooper
Français Last fine day
Ruipérez The imitation of Jesus Christ
Bosboom Cantabimus and psallemus


I’m doing my best to find another engraving of ‘Rembrandt, Reading the Bible’ for you, perhaps I’ll be sending it to you in the first crate of paintings. Have I sent you a lithograph of Troyon, Morning effect? Français, Last fine days?

If not, write and tell me; I have two of each. And now, I wish you well, do right and don’t look back, as much as you can, and believe me ever

Your loving brother
Vincent

Please give my regards to Mr and Mrs Tersteeg and Mauve, also my regards to the Van Stockums, Haanebeeks, Aunt Fie, Rooses, &c. What do you think about our Anna?

July 24, 1875

[Letterhead: Goupil Paris]

Paris, 24 July 1875

My dear Theo,

A couple of days ago we got a painting by De Nittis, a view of London on a rainy day, Westminster Bridge and the Houses of Parliament. I crossed Westminster Bridge every morning and evening and know what it looks like when the sun’s setting behind Westminster Abbey and the Houses of Parliament, and what it’s like early in the morning, and in the winter with snow and fog.

When I saw this painting I felt how much I love London.

Yet I believe it’s good for me to be away from it. This in answer to your question. I certainly don’t think that you’ll be going to London.

Thanks for ‘Aus der Jugendzeit’ and ‘Um Mitternacht’ by Rückert. It’s poignantly beautiful; the latter made me think of ‘La nuit de Décembre’ by Musset. I wish I could send it to you, but don’t have it.

Yesterday we sent a crate to The Hague, what I had promised you was in it.

I hear that Anna and Lies are at home; I’d like to see them again. I wish you the very best, and write again soon. With a handshake

Your loving brother
Vincent

July 15, 1875

[Letterhead: Goupil Paris]

Paris, 15 July 1875

My dear Theo,

Uncle Vincent was here again, we were together quite a lot and talked about one thing and another. I asked him whether he thought there would be an opportunity to get you here, into the Paris branch. At first he wouldn’t hear of it, and said it was much better that you stay in The Hague; but I kept insisting, and you can be sure that he’ll bear it in mind.


When he comes to The Hague he’ll probably talk to you; stay calm and let him have his say; it won’t do you any harm, and later on you’ll probably need him now and again. You shouldn’t talk about me if it’s not the right moment.


He’s terribly clever, when I was here last winter one of the things he said to me was ‘perhaps I know nothing of supernatural things, but of natural things I know everything’. I’m not sure whether those were his exact words, but that was the gist of it.


I also want to tell you that one of his favourite paintings is ‘Lost illusions’ by Gleyre.


Sainte-Beuve said, ‘There is in most men a poet who died young, whom the man survived’ and Musset, ‘know that in us there is often a sleeping poet, ever young and alive’. I believe that the former is true of Uncle Vincent. So you know who it is you’re dealing with, and so be warned.


Don’t hesitate to ask him openly to have you sent here or to London.


I thank you for your letter of this morning, and for the verse by Rückert. Do you have his poems? I’d like to know more of them. When there’s an opportunity I’ll send you a French Bible and L’imitation de Jesus Christ. This was probably the favourite book of that woman whom P. de Champaigne painted; in the Louvre there’s a portrait, also by P. de C., of her daughter, a nun; she has L’imitation lying on a chair next to her.


Pa once wrote to me: ‘you know that the same lips that uttered “be harmless as doves” also immediately added “and wise as serpents”’. You should bear that in mind as well, and believe me to be ever

Your loving brother
Vincent

Do you have the photos of the Meissoniers in the gallery? Look at them often; he painted men. You may well know The smoker at the window and The young man having lunch.

July 6, 1875

[Letterhead: Goupil Paris]

Paris, 6 July 1875

My dear Theo,

Thanks for writing, yes, old boy, I thought so. You must write and tell me sometime how your English is, have you done anything about it? If not, it’s not such a great disaster.
 

 I’ve rented a small room in Montmartre which you’d like; it’s small, but overlooks a little garden full of ivy and Virginia creeper.
 

 I want to tell you which prints I have on the wall.


Ruisdael The bush
ditto Bleaching fields
Rembrandt Reading the Bible (a large, old Dutch room, (in the evening, a candle on the table) in which a young mother sits beside her child’s cradle reading the Bible; an old woman listens, it’s something that recalls: Verily I say unto you, ‘for where 2 or 3 are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them’, it’s an old copper engraving, as large as ‘The bush’, superb).
P. de Champaigne Portrait of a lady


Corot Evening
ditto ditto
Bodmer Fontainebleau
Bonington A road
Troyon Morning
Jules Dupré Evening (resting place)
Maris Washerwoman
ditto A baptism
Millet The four times of the day
(woodcuts, 4 prints)
Van der Maaten Funeral in the cornfield
Daubigny Dawn (cock crowing)
Charlet Hospitality. Farmhouse surrounded by fir trees, winter scene with snow. A peasant and a soldier before a door.
Ed. Frère Seamstresses
ditto A cooper


Well, old boy, keep well, you know it, longsuffering and meek, as much as possible. Let us remain good friends.
 

Adieu

Vincent

June 29, 1875

[Letterhead: Goupil Paris]

Paris, 29 June 1875

My dear Theo,

I’d rather that you were out of The Hague. Don’t you sometimes long for that as well? Write and tell me, yes or no?

I’m staying here for the time being, and will probably not go to Holland before the autumn.

In the first crate going to The Hague you’ll find a package for Helvoirt. Please send it on after looking at what’s inside. There are a few lithographs &c. which I’d like to see in Pa’s study with the ‘Funeral in the cornfield’ by Van der Maaten. Anker’s painting of ‘An old Huguenot’, a photo of which is in the package in question, I sold to Uncle Vincent, who was here a couple of days ago. He also bought a beautiful painting by Jacque, horses pulling a plough in the rain.

There was a sale here of drawings by Millet, I don’t know whether I’ve already written to you about it. When I entered the room in Hôtel Drouot where they were exhibited, I felt something akin to: Put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground. You know that Millet lived in Gréville. Well, I don’t know whether it was Gréville or Granville where the man I once told you about died. At any rate, I looked at Millet’s drawings of ‘The cliffs at Gréville’ with redoubled attention. A painting of his, ‘The church of Gréville’, is now in the Luxembourg.

Adieu

Vincent