Letter 035 Paris, 1st September 1875
Dear Theo,
This morning I received from Father and from you the news of the death of Uncle Jan 1. 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.�p style="line-height:25px;text-indent:32px"> 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?
1. Uncle Jan Carbentus.