No, my lad, that's not the way to look at it

Dear Vincent,

Last spring Weehuizen died. I thought you knew. He died very suddenly after a few days' illness. He died in hospital with nobody present. I greatly regretted that I was not with him. I had been on familiar terms with him of late. He had read Michelet's L'Amour and often talked about it to me, and he loved nature so much and sought the still sadness in it. Last Sunday I heard a beautiful sermon. Jesus wept.

Thank you for the lithographs and the book by Michel you promised me; I am very curious to see them.

I have taken your letter to the Borchers. They seem to be good people, and I hope to see more of them. Today we received the novelties, including that engraving after Rembrandt. It looks fine, the figure of Jesus especially is beautiful, and the whole is noble. Adieu, good luck.

Yours affectionately, Theo

The frames for the engravings for Mother's birthday cost 4 guilders apiece.

[Reply]

Paris, 8 September 1875

Dear Theo,

You didn't expect to get this letter back, did you?

No, my lad, that's not the way to look at it. Certainly Weehuizen's death is sad, but sad in another way than you say.

Keep your eyes open, and try to be strong and brave. Are you sure that Michelet's book was the right one for him?

Theo, I want to make a suggestion that may perhaps surprise you. Do not read Michelet any longer or any other book but the Bible till we meet again at Christmas, and do as I told you: go out in the evening often, dropping in on Van Stockum, Borchers and the like. I don't think you will regret it; you will feel much freer once you start this regimen.

Beware of the words I underlined in your letter. There is still a sadness, certainly, thank God, but I do not know whether we are entitled to it yet. You notice I say we: I, no more than you.

The other day Pa wrote me, “Sadness does no harm, but makes us see things with a holier eye.” This is the true “still sadness,” the pure gold, but we have not got as far as that, not by a long shot. Let us hope and pray we may get there, and believe me always

Your loving brother, Vincent

I have got a little bit further than you, and I see already that, alas, the maxim “La jeunesse et l'adolescence ne sont que vanité” [Youth and adolescence are nothing but vanity] is nearly all true. So keep heart, old fellow, I shake your hand warmly.

Paris, 1st September 1875

Dear Theo,

This morning I received from Father and from you the news of the death of Uncle Jan. News of this sort makes one repeat the prayer, “Unite us, O Lord, close together, and may our love of Thee strengthen that bond,” and again: Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man.

In the first box of pictures going to Holland you will find some lithographs and the engravings after Rembrandt that I mentioned to you. You will surely like the two lithographs after Bonington. At the same time I shall send you a few photographs of pictures by Jules Breton and Corot for Father; I shall write on the back, “for Helvoirt.”

I never heard of the painter, Pynas, whom you write about. I should like to see the picture you mention. I don't know that lithograph after Diaz's “A Monk” either.

Last Sunday I was at the Louvre (on Sundays I generally go there or to the Luxembourg). I wish you could see Van Ostade, his own family - himself, his wife and, I think, eight children. They are all in black - the wife and daughters with white caps and kerchiefs - in a stately old-Dutch room with a fireplace, large oak panels and ceiling, the whitewashed walls with pictures in black frames. In the corner of the room is a large bed with blue curtains and quilt.

The Rembrandt, “The Men of Emmaus,” which I wrote you about has been engraved; Messrs. Goupil & Co. will publish the engraving next autumn.

Do you ever visit Borchers's home? His mother is, I think, a real lady. Go out as much as you can, I mean, of course, to Van Stockum's, Haanebeek's, Carbentus's, Borchers's, etc.; not to Kraft's or Marda's, you know, unless it happens that you can't do otherwise - then there is no harm in it for once.

How is business? I know how difficult it is sometimes, but try to be as useful as you can.

Best wishes and write soon, always your loving brother,

Vincent

Enclosed is a note for Borchers; compliments to all the Roos family and to everybody who asks after me. B. tells me that Weehuizen is dead, which I did not know. Were you there?


Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh
At this time, Vincent was 22 year old

That's it

My dear Theo,

Many thanks for your letter. My warm good wishes for a very happy New Year.

I know you are doing well at The Hague, because Mr. Tersteeg told me so. I can see from your letter that you are taking a keen interest in art, and that's a good thing, old fellow.

I'm glad you like Millet, Jacque, Schreyer, Lambinet, Frans Hals, etc., for as Mauve says, “That's it.”

That painting by Millet, L'angélus du soir, “that's it,” indeed - that's magnificent, that's poetry. How I wish I could have another talk with you about art; but we'll just have to keep writing to each other about it. Admire as much as you can; most people don't admire enough.

Here are the names of a few the painters I particularly like. Scheffer, Delaroche, Hébert, Hamon, Leys, Tissot, Lagye, Boughton, Millais, Thijs [Matthijs] Mans, De Groux, De Braekeleer, Jr., Millet, Jules Breton, Feyen-Perrin, Eugène Feyen, Brion, Jundt, George Saal, Israëls, Anker, Knaus, Vautier, Jourdan, Jalabert, Antigna, Compte-Calix, Rochussen, Meissonier, Zamacois, Madrazo, Ziem, Boudin, Gérôme, Fromentin, de Tournemine, Pasini, Decamps, Bonington, Diaz, Th. Rousseau, Troyon, Dupré, Paul Huet, Corot, Jacque, Otto Weber, Daubigny, Wahlberg, Bernier, Émile Breton, Chenu, César de Cock, Mile. Collart, Bodmer, Koekkoek, Schelfhout, Weissenbruch, and last [but] not least, Maris and Mauve.

But I could carry on like that for I don't know how long, and then there are still all the old masters, and I am sure I have forgotten some of the best of the modern ones.

Do go on doing a lot of walking and keep up your love of nature, for that is the right way to understand art better and better. Painters understand nature and love her and teach us to see.

And then there are painters who never do anything that is no good, who cannot do anything bad, just as there are ordinary people who can do nothing but good.

I'm getting on very well here. I've got a delightful home and I'm finding it very pleasurable taking a look at London and the English way of life and the English people themselves, and then I've got nature and art and poetry, and if that isn't enough, what is? But I haven't forgotten Holland and especially not The Hague and Brabant.

We are busy at the office doing stocktaking, but it will all be over in 5 days, we got off more lightly than you did in The Hague.

I hope that, like me, you had a happy Christmas.

And so, my boy, best wishes and write to me soon, Je t'écris un peu au hasard ce qui me vient dans ma plume [I have written to you in this manner just as it came into my pen], I hope you'll be able to make something of it.

Goodbye, regards to everybody at work and to anybody else who asks after me, especially everybody at Aunt Fie's and at the Haanebeeks'.

Vincent

I am enclosing a few lines for Mr. Roos.

Letter from Vincent Van Gogh to Theo van Gogh

London, January 1874