Anti-slavery bugle. [volume] (New-Lisbon, Ohio) 1845-1861, 1849-03-30
The Painter DuhObret.
FROM THE "mAeAzzINo r1rroR1co."

Among the pupils Of ALBERT DURER, in
Nuremberg, was one whom he had re-
ceived out of charity, discerning in him
traces Of talent which he considered worth
cultivation. This cultivation was not
hopeless, under the eye of the master,
even in one who had passed the age of
forty, who was poor, even to indulgence 81
who had hitherto contrived to gain a scan
ty subsistence by painting signs or the
coarsest Of tapestry, at that time much
used in Germany. The name of this
man, on whom fortune seemed to have
wreaked her utmost spite, was SAMUEL
DUHoBRET. He was short in stature,
crooked, and ugly to a proverb, and with
al had an imperfection in his speech that
rendered his enunciation difficult, and at
times unintelligible. He was in conse-
quence the butt Of his fellow pupils, and
they were continually breaking jokes up
on him, which he bore in patient silence.
Still harder to endure were the unfeeling
taunts of Madame Durer, who OCCASION
allv visited the studio, and always had
something harsh to say about the pupil
who brought her husband no recompense
for his trouble. In short, poor Duho-
bret's existence was ioyless enough and
it would have been Il burden intolerable,
with his crust of brown bread, when he
had it nj home, and his lonely life abroad,
but that he sometimes found himself able
to escape from toll and humiliation into
the country. There, under the free sky,
with the smiling landscape around him,
with the sound of streams and the song
Of birds in his ears, the heart of the des.
olate artist would expand. He amused
himself with sketching some of the beau
tiful country-seats in the neighborhood OF
Nuremberg. In this pleasing occupation,
and with no one near to laugh and jecr
at him, Samuel was no longer the same
man. The abiect and melancholy ex-
preston disappeared from his face,
which li%ghtened and glowed with the
strange happiness he felt, as dropping
plants revive and brighten in color under
The influence Of sunshine.
Choosing some quiet and sheltered
spot, DUHoBRET was accustomed to pass
many hours of the day seated on the turf,
with his portfolio on his lap. 1t was then
that he produced those happy touches
which gave himself confidence to under
take labors Of more importance, and en-
ergy to shrink from no toll or privation.
When he returned 10 the city he careful.
ly put aside the unfinished pieces, no
: daring ever to show his best sketches
f for he knew they would bring upon him
a double portion Of scorn and derision.-
He applied himself quietly TO his daily
, tasks in the studio, and, while he improv'
ed in the mechanical part of his art
nourished conceptions that gave him ;
: world Of his W creation.
Every day, as a general rule, SAMUEL
T came early to the studio Of DURER, anC
: remained until evening. Then he retir
, ed to the comfortless cell in which he
lodged, and worked in the silent hours O
1 night to transfer 10 his canvass thu
h, dreams of beauty he had brought from
e the country. He submitted to incredible
| privations 10 obtain the means Of procu
ring pencils, %colors, &C.; nay, so arden
was his longing for progress with out OBJ
! stacle that he is said, by the historian o
> his life, to have been only withheld by
] stern principle from stealing those indis
) pensable articles from his companions.
, Thus passed three years and durin;
: that time neither Albert Durer nor an,
Of his pupils knew Of the nocturnal labor
! of Duhobret. How the powers of hi
. physical nature was sustained under thi
/ incessant tasking ofils energies, it is i'm
6 possible 10 imagine.
But nature at last gave way. TIL,
painter was seized with n fever which
rapidly reduced the lille strength that re
manned to him. No one came 10 SCI
what had become Of poor Samuel, though
A for n week he had not appeared at tht
studio. No one had the humanity Il
/: supply his wants, though he had not il
o many days tasted food, merely moisten
ing his lips with water that stood in
h stone pitcher by his bedside. As The fe
yer abated, the wild dreams of deIiriun
vanished, and Samuel thought himsel
0 near to death. For the first time a bit
terness entered his soul. He felt a de
sire TO preserve the life which seemed ST
e worthless to all The world. lie must pro
t cure food, and adopted a desperate res
d olution.
Having risen from his miserable couc'
5 he took under his arm the last picture h
! had finished, and went out, taking hi
. way towards the shop Of a vender of pic
! lures. The piece was one on which h
had bestowed great pains; but he resolV
!, ed to sell it for whatever price was offer
ed, if only enough to purchase a singI
y meal.
: As he dragged himself with difficult
9 along the street., he passed a house j
= front of which a crowd Yves assembled
. On inquiring the cause, Duhobret learn
. ed that q great sale was to take place.
Q Various works Of art, collected durin
Q thirty years, by an amateur, whose gale
nv was the admiration of all Nuremberg
Q were to be sold at public auction, tn
X hnnth nf The nwnnr having occurred