Ever Yours

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Ever Yours Page 14

by Vincent Van Gogh


  When Uncle Jan commandeered the sloop and the doctors to go and help on the afternoon that accident happened, I saw him in his element.

  Now I must get to work, though I still have to fill this page. Anna is in Leiden, as you surely know, and will come here one of these days with our future brother-in-law, am looking forward to seeing them very much, Pa wrote so cheerfully about last Sunday when they were in Etten and everything was good in his eyes, and they see rightly, so let us view what has happened to our sister as a blessing on our house, in which we all share; if one member be glad, let all the members be glad with her.

  Next week, or perhaps even tomorrow, Uncle and Aunt Pompe are coming to stay here, and also Fanny and Bet ’s Graeuwen, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen any of them.

  Am quite often up rather early in the morning, and when the sun rises over the yard and the workers come a while later it’s a wonderful sight from the window, and I should wish to have you here. Will I later be working on such a morning on a sermon on ‘He maketh His sun to rise on the evil and on the good’, or on ‘Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light’, or on ‘It is a good thing to praise the Lord in the morning’ and ‘It is a pleasant thing for the eyes to behold the sun’ — I hope so.

  All the same, it seems that the sun never shines so beautifully as it does in a parsonage or in a church. It’s wonderful to work on ‘the writings’ early in the morning.

  If you have the time and a stamp and paper, then write again soon. Uncle Jan sends you his regards, that evening you described there in the dunes must have been pleasant. In Uncle Cor’s shop I recently saw The Gospels by Bida, how beautiful it is, how wonderful it must be to be a Christian labourer like that, but it’s impossible to put into words how beautiful it is, that’s it again, there is much in that work that reminds one of Rembrandt. And now a handshake in thought, and I sincerely wish you the best, and believe me ever

  Your most loving brother

  Vincent

  126 | Amsterdam, Sunday, 5 August 1877 | To Theo van Gogh (D)

  Amsterdam, 5 Aug. 1877

  My dear Theo,

  Thanks for your letter of yesterday, it was a good one, the kind that is of some use, and it was a real comfort to me. Anna left again yesterday for Hengelo, they had a lot to do here, of course, so I wasn’t with them so very much, she also came to my little study in the evening just as it was growing dark and people were leaving the dockyard to go home. It seems to me that that face and those eyes of Van Houten speak of heart and character, and he has entirely the appearance of a man of affairs, has — it appeared to me — something decisive and abrupt which often stems from a firm will and understanding acquired through experience, may she have made a good choice and may time turn that into the love that never faileth but brings our dear sister through life, covering and forbearing everything and making whole hope and faith.

  I found a couple of stamps enclosed in your letter, for which I sincerely thank you, you also said you would send a postal order so that I could come to The Hague and see the exhibition of drawings. The postal order indeed arrived today, Sunday morning, I thank you for it and for your kind offer, but I’m sending the money back and am not coming, however much I’d like to see all the beautiful and interesting things you wrote about. Have already refused to go to Baarn, first of all because I’d rather spend my Sunday here going to church several times, and writing and studying some more, secondly because I’d have to ask for travelling money from Uncle Stricker, who has some money of Pa’s to be put at my disposal if necessary, and I hope to go on doing that as little as possible. If I go to The Hague, then I have to go to Baarn as well, and not just once — in any case, it’s better I don’t. Moreover, old boy, I know you really need it yourself. Many thanks all the same. I’m not sorry not always to have money in my pocket. I have a great craving for so many things, and if I had money perhaps I’d quickly spend it on books and other things that I can well do without, and which would pull me away from the studies necessary at the moment, even now it isn’t always easy to fight against distractions, and if I had money things would only get worse. And here in this world one remains poor and needy anyway, I’ve seen that already; one can, however, become rich in one thing and that is the goal of life, one can become rich toward God, and that is a part which shall not be taken away. And there may come a time when we can spend our money more wisely than on the best books and so on, and when one would regret having spent a lot on oneself in one’s youth, namely when we’ll perhaps have our own household and others to care and think for. There was a time when our parents, too, were uncomforted and tossed with tempest.

  In the midst of life we are in death, those are words that apply to each of us personally, that is a truth we see reconfirmed in what you told me about Caroline van Stockum, and earlier we also saw it in another member of that family. It affected me, and I sincerely hope with all my heart that she’ll recover. Oh, how much sadness and sorrow and suffering there is in the world, both in the open and in secret. ‘Seek, and ye shall find’ is also one of those truths. How much has changed in that family if one compares it with how it was a few years ago. It was many years ago when we were together. And that was the time of The landlady’s daughter, and Longfellow says ‘there are thoughts that make the strong heart weak’, but it is written above all ‘Let him who has put his hand to the plough not look back’ and ‘Shew thyself a man’.

  I looked for it in the illustration after the painting by Ruisdael, Haarlem and Overveen, that painter knew it too.

  Should she quickly recover sufficiently for her to be taken back to The Hague and you then see her, give her my regards, and if you can find the words to cheer her up or give her courage and remind her what important reasons she has for being and, as it were, the right to live, especially for her children’s sake, tell her and you will be doing a good deed. Faith in God is renewed in a mother; what she feels for her children is holy and comes from Above and from God, and He says in holy writ to every mother ‘Raise this child for Me and I will give thee thy reward’. A strong word spoken from the heart at the right time can give comfort and do good.

  Was up rather early this morning and left around 6 o’clock for the early service, afterwards I walked down all sorts of old streets and would have liked to have you with me. You know the painting (at least the lithograph and woodcut made after it) by Daubigny, The Marie bridge, I thought of that. I like to walk in those old, narrow, rather sombre streets with chemists’ shops, lithographers and other printers, shops with sea-charts and warehouses for ships’ victuals and so on, which one finds near the Oudezijdskapel and the Teertuinen and the end of Warmoesstraat, everything is evocative there. Then went to bid good-day to Vos and Kee, and then to the Eilandskerk where the Rev. Ten Kate — the poet of De schepping and the writer of many beautiful books, such as, for example, ‘Bij brood en beker’ — gave the sermon on Rom. I:15–17: So, as much as in me is, I am ready to preach the gospel to you. For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ: for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth. For therein is the righteousness of God revealed from faith to faith: as it is written, The just shall live by faith. The church was very full, and when one looked at those faces one saw something of the faith, for it was on many a countenance, on those of men and on those of women, written in their features in various ways, something to read. His voice sometimes uttered sounds and expressions like Pa’s, and he spoke very well and from an overfull heart and, although the sermon wasn’t short, church was out almost before one knew it, because his words were so enthralling that one forgot the time.

  Made a summary last week, for a change, of the journeys of Paul, and drew a small map to accompany it, that is good to have. Uncle Stricker recently gave me a book on the geography of Palestine (German, by Raumer), of which he had two copies.

  This is a nice excerpt from Télémaque. Mentor says, The earth is never ungrateful, she always nouri
shes with her fruits those who cultivate her with care and with love, she denies her goods only to those who fear giving her their hard labour. The more children the ploughmen have, the richer they are if the Lord does not impoverish them, because their children, from their most tender youth, begin to help them. The youngest take the sheep to the pastures, the others who are older already lead the large flocks, the eldest plough with their father. Meanwhile, the mother of the whole family prepares a simple meal for her husband and her beloved children, who will return weary from the day’s work; she takes care of milking her cows and her ewes, and we see streams of milk flowing; she makes a big fire, around which all the innocent, peaceful family takes pleasure in singing, the whole evening long, while waiting for sweet sleep. She prepares cheeses, sweet chestnuts and fruits preserved with the same freshness as if they had just been picked. The shepherd returns with his flute, and sings to the assembled family the songs he has learned in neighbouring hamlets. The ploughman returns with his plough, and his weary oxen walk, necks bowed, with slow and tardy tread, despite the goad that pricks them. All toil’s evils end with the day. Sleep soothes black care with its spell, and holds all nature in a sweet enchantment; each one falls asleep without foreseeing the morrow’s troubles.

  It’s especially nice if one imagines it illustrated by the etchings of Jacque.

  Your postcard just arrived, fortunately, thanks for the quick reply, I sincerely hope that you had a good Sunday. Fan and Bet ’s Graeuwen and Bertha van Gogh are still here and are flowers in the house, Bertha, in particular, is a nice girl. Give my regards to your housemates, and accept in thought a handshake from

  Your most loving brother,

  Vincent

  Couldn’t get a money order so have to send it back to you in stamps.

  129 | Amsterdam, Tuesday, 4 September 1877 | To Theo van Gogh (D)

  Amsterdam, 4 Sept. 1877.

  My dear Theo,

  Herewith a note for Anna and for Lies, do write something on it and send it when Ma’s birthday is approaching. (I must tell you that the reason I’m sending it to you is that I’m afraid I won’t have any more stamps by then, except to write home. If you don’t write until later, just let this wait.)

  Uncle Jan went to Helvoirt last Saturday, he intends to stay away until 10 September, so it’s quiet in the house these days and yet the days fly by, as I have lessons daily and have to study for them, and would even so much like the days to be a little longer in order to get more done, because it’s not always easy work, and even if one has been at it for some time, it gives but little satisfaction, enfin, what is difficult is good, I feel convinced of that even if one sees no results.

  Am also busy copying out the whole of L’imitation de Jésus Christ from a French edition I’ve borrowed from Uncle Cor, that book is sublime, and he who wrote it must have been a man after God’s heart; had such an irresistible yearning for that book a few days ago, perhaps because I look at that lithograph after Ruipérez so often, and asked Uncle Cor if I could borrow it. Now I sit here in the evenings writing it out, it’s a lot of work but a good part of it is done, and I know no better way of getting some of it into my head. I also bought Bossuet, Oraisons funèbres again (I got it for 40 cents), I feel compelled to seize hold of the task forcefully, I occasionally think of those words ‘the days are evil’, and one must arm oneself and try as much as possible to have something good in oneself in order to be able to withstand and be prepared. It is, as you well know, no small undertaking, and we don’t know the outcome, and so in any case I want to try and fight a good fight.

  It’s a curious book, that one by Thomas a Kempis, there are words so deep and serious that one cannot read them without emotion and almost fear, at least if one reads them with a sincere desire for light and truth, that language is indeed the eloquence that wins hearts because it comes from the heart. You have it, surely. Pa wrote to me about an unfortunate incident that occurred at Uncle Vincent’s. You no doubt know about it already, namely that the wife of the Rev. Richard fell down the stairs one evening and is in a very distressing condition. And so one hears daily now one thing then another, everywhere and on all sides, which is why I have at least the impression that ‘the days are evil’. Because even if it doesn’t happen to us, one feels nonetheless that perhaps it isn’t far from us either, and that we are in the same ordeal, as it were. The fashion of this world passeth away — yet would I have thee without carefulness.

  ‘Yet would I have thee without carefulness’, doesn’t that say, as far as you’re concerned, feel all these things, ‘feel thy sorrows’, and keep them in thine heart with the others, but go your way, ‘return on thy way’, remain the same as you were in the beginning, when you sought good and thought to have found something of it — for God, too, is the same as He was in the beginning, and with Him is no variableness, neither shadow of turning — thou, too, have a right spirit within you and have faith in God, for those who trust in Him will not be ashamed. We see that in our father, who feels all the suffering, all the misery and also all the sin around him, who also shares in it and helps as much as he possibly can, and yet goes his own steady way, doing good and not looking back. Yes, it is certainly true, he has the spirit Jesus had, that spirit of which He said: Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit. And so many have the same — although not in such great measure — that it isn’t a hopeless task for us to strive for it also.

  ‘Be zealous in amending your whole life’ is written in Thomas a Kempis, and that is what one must do and not give up, not even if one is frightened by the wrong that is in us and that rightly causes us to say, I alone have caused all this misery to myself and others — he who feels that, for him it is time, that is ‘the very man’. For such people it is written ‘Ye must be born again’. For such people the word of the Lord shall be a lamp and He himself through those words a Friend and Comforter, and godly sorrow shall worketh that which it shall worketh if one does not fear it.

  There is something that I feel compelled to tell you, you from whom I have no secrets. In the life of Uncle Jan, of Uncle Cor, of Uncle Vincent, there is much, much good and purity, and yet something is missing. Wouldn’t you think that when the two first-mentioned are sitting here, as often happens, talking in the evening in that beautiful, sober room familiar to you, that it’s a sight that does the heart good, especially if one looks at them with love as I do? And yet — the Supper at Emmaus by Rembrandt is even more beautiful, and it could have been that and now it’s almost that but not altogether. Pa has what they lack — it is good to be a Christian, almost and also altogether, for that is life eternal — and now I’ll go even further and say what is missing in them, missing in their homes and in their families, and then you will say or at least think of the man who beheld a mote in his brother’s eye but did not consider the beam in his own eye — and then I shall answer, there is possibly something of that, but these at least are true words, ‘it is good to be a Christian, almost and also altogether’.

  A few days ago I spent an evening in the study of the Rev. Jeremie Meijjes, not the old minister but that very man who had moved me so much in church.

  It was a pleasant evening, he asked a thing or two about London, about which I could tell quite a lot, and he told me about his work and the blessings he had apparently experienced. Hanging in the room was a very good charcoal drawing of a religious service which he was accustomed to keep with him at home on winter evenings, very good, Israëls would have liked it, the congregation was made up of workers and their wives, there are similar subjects in Doré’s book about London. Went himself to London for a fortnight. Has a large family, 6 or 7 children, his wife has something indescribable — something of Ma — or of the wife of the Rev. Jones, for example. In a word, it’s a Christian family there in all its strength and bloom, there is sometimes an expression of very great happiness on the tired face of that man, and when one is in that house one feels something of ‘put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon
thou standest is holy ground’.

  Also spent an evening at the Strickers’ and heard Uncle preach last Sunday on I Cor. III:14, If any man’s work abide which he hath built thereupon, he shall receive a reward. It often seems as though I already feel something of blessing and of change in my life. How I’d like to show you all kinds of things here. I think of Degroux so often in the Jewish quarter and also in other places; there are interiors there with woodcutters, carpenters, grocers’ shops, chemist’s shops, smithies and so on and so forth that would have delighted him. For example, this morning I saw a large, dark wine cellar and warehouse standing open, a spectre momentarily appeared to me — you know what — men were running back and forth with lights in the dark vault — now that is something one can see daily, but there are moments when ordinary daily things make an extraordinary impression and seem to have a deep meaning in another setting. Degroux managed to show that so well in his paintings, and especially in his lithographs.

  Your letter just arrived as I write this. Thank you. Pa already wrote that he had visited you, but what really surprised me was that Gladwell is in The Hague. Give him my warm regards, and oh, how I’d like him to come here sometime, just wrote him a postcard to ask him to do his best to come to Amsterdam as well, you try and persuade him too. You know yourself how interesting it is for foreigners to see the city, also the dockyard and the area around here, and how I’d like to show him around as much as is in my power. And I’m longing to see his brown eyes, which could sparkle so when we saw the paintings of Michel and others or talked of ‘many things’. Yes, it wouldn’t be bad if he were to come, and even stayed as long as possible, and I believe that we’d certainly feel that there was something genuinely sincere in our earlier friendship and that it was no small thing, with the passing of time one does not always feel it strongly, but it is not dead but it sleepeth, and to make it awake and alive again it is good to see each other again.

 

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