At last I am sending Longfellow's poems; I am sure the book
will become a friend to you.
Today I answered two advertisements again. I continue to do
it, though I get hardly any answers. My time here is drawing to
You will see many beautiful things on your travels. Though
love of nature is not everything, it is still a precious
possession; may we keep it always.
And now you will become a guest in “many an Inn”
- that is pleasant, too, sometimes. You know, I once made a
trip on foot to Brighton; I always remember it with pleasure.
The inns in England are often so cosy. Longfellow describes it
so well in Tales of a Wayside Inn.
Gladwell has got my place at the gallery and is there
already to become familiar with the work before I leave. I have
seen several pictures intended for the Salon, including two
beautiful large Gabriels: “A Morning in the
Meadows” (through the haze one sees a town in the
distance) and one of what we should call a “watery
sun.” There were also two large Xavier de Cocks. One
represents an evening at the beginning of summer, with a meadow
surrounded by poplars; in the distance, the farm and fields and
a girl driving the cows home. In the foreground a pool, around
which three cows are lying in the grass - one white, one black
and one red; the sun has set and the trees stand out dark
against the light yellowish sky.
I am writing in great haste, as you can see from the
handwriting. A pleasant journey; always
Your loving brother, Vincent
At this time, Vincent was 22 year old
Vincent van Gogh. Letter to Theo van Gogh. Written 25 March 1876 in Paris. Translated by Mrs. Johanna van Gogh-Bonger, edited by Robert Harrison, number 057.
This letter may be freely used, in accordance with the terms of this site.