Paris. 12 Sept. 1875.

My dear Theo,

Wings, wings above life!

Wings over the grave and death!1

That’s what we need, and I’m beginning to see that we can acquire them. Doesn’t Pa have them, for instance? And you know how he got them, through prayer and the fruits thereof: patience and faith,2 and through the Bible, which was a light unto his path and a lamp unto his feet.3

Your loving brother

Vincent

If it’s indeed true that childhood and youth are vanity6 (always bearing in mind what’s written above, and remembering that although one has to start anew later, a well-spent youth is worth a fortune), shouldn’t it then be our ambition and hope to become men like Pa and others? Let us both hope and pray for this. My regards to everyone who asks after me.

You know the etching by Rembrandt, Burgomaster Six standing in front of the window, reading.7 I know that Uncle Vincent and Cor like it very much, and I sometimes think that they must have looked like that when they were younger. You also know the portrait of Six when he was older,8 I believe there’s an engraving of it in your shop.9 That life of his must have been a fine and serious life.