The Letter From Vincent van Gogh to Theo_084

Letter 084 Dordrecht, 21 January 1877

Dear Theo,

You probably expected a letter from me sooner. I am getting along pretty well at the bookstore and am very busy; I go there at eight o’clock in the morning and I leave at one o’clock at night. But I like it that way.

I hope to go to Etten on 11 February, as you know, we celebrate this day as father’s birthday. Will you be there also? I want to give him the Eliot’s “news�(the translation of Scenes from a Clerical Life). If we put our money together to get him a present, we could give him in addition Adam Bede.

Last Sunday, I wrote to Mr. & Mrs. Jones to tell them that I was not coming back, and unintentionally the letter became rather long �out of the fullness of my heart. I wished them to remember me and asked them to wrap my recollection in the cloak of charity.

I have hung in my bedroom the two engravings Christus Consolator that you have given me. I saw the pictures at the museum, as well as Scheffer’s “Christ in Gethsemane,�which is unforgettable. Then there is a sketch of “Les Douleurs de la Terre�and several drawings, a sketch of his studio, and, as you know, the portrait of his mother. There are still other fine pictures, for instance, Achenbach and Schelfhout and Koekkoek and also a fine Allebé �an old man near the stove. Shall we look at them together someday?

The first Sunday I was here, I heard a sermon on “Behold, I make all things new.�This morning I heard the Reverend Mr. Beversen in a little old church. There was Communion, and his text was: “If any man thirst,

let him come unto me, and drink.�p style="line-height:25px;text-indent:32px"> The window in my bedroom looks out on the gardens where I can see pine trees, poplars, and the backs of old houses etc., one of them has a gutter covered with ivy. Dickens said: “A strange old plant is the ivy green.�This view from my window can be solemn and gloomy, but you should see it in the light of the morning sun. Then when I contemplate it, I imagine a letter of yours in which you talked to me of houses covered with ivy. Do you remember it?

If you can afford it �if I can, I will do the same �you must subscribe to the Catholic Illustration of this year; there are prints in it from London by Doré �the wharves on the Thames, Westminster, Whitechapel,

the underground railways, etc.

A schoolmaster [Görlitz] lives in the same house as I. Last Sunday, and today too, we took a fine walk together along the canals and outside the town along the river; we also passed that spot where you were waiting for the steamer.

This evening when the setting sun was reflected in the water and in the windows and cast a bright golden glow over everything, it looked just like a picture by Cuyp.

Write again as soon as you can. I shall have to do a lot of bookkeeping these days and shall be very busy.

Give my kind regards to Roos, a handshake from Your loving brother, Vincent