Butte record., 1854-05-06
The Painter Duhobret,

not hopeless, under the eye Of the master,
even in one who had passed the age OF
forty, who was poor, even to indigence,
and who had hitherto contrived to gain
scanty subsistence by painting signs on
the coarsest tapestry, at that time much
ustd in Germany. The name of this
man, on whom fortune seemed to have
wreaked hex utmost spite, was Samuel
Duhobret. He was short in stature,
crooked, and ugly in proverb, and withal
had an imperfection in his speech that
rendered his enunciations difficult and at,
times unintelligible lie was in consc-
quence the butt of his fellow pupils, and
they were continually breaking jokes upon
him, which he bore in patient silence
Still harder to endure were the unfeeling
taunts of madame Durer, who OCCASION
ally 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 joyless enough and
it would have been burden intolerable,
with his crust Of brown bread when he
had it at home, and his lonely life abroad,
but that he sometimes found himself able
to escape 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 desolate artist
would expand. He amused himself with
sketching some of the beautiful country
seats in the neighborhood of Nuremberg
In this pleasant occupation, and with no
one near to laugh and jcer at him, Sam
ucl was no longer the same man The
abject and melancholy expressions dis
appeared from his face, which lightened
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 undertake labors of more Importance,
and energy to shrink from no toll Or pri-
vation. When he returned to the city
he carefully put aside the unfinished
pieces, not daring even to show his best
sketches for he knew they would bring
upon him double portion of scorn and
derision. He applied himself quietly to
his daily tasks in the studio, and, while
he improved in the mechanical part of
his art, nourished conceptions that gave
him world Of his own creation
Every day, as a general rule, Samuel
came early to the studio of Durer, and
remained until evening. Then he re-
tired to the comfortless cell in which he
lodged, and worked in the silent hours
of night to transfer to his canvas the
dreams of beauty he had brought from
the country. He submitted to incredi-
BILE privations to obtain the means of
procuring pencils, colors &c, nay, so ar
dent was his longing for progress without
obstacle, that he is said, by the histori-
an of his life, to have been only withheld
by stern principles from stealing those
indispensable articles from his compan-
ions.
Thus passed three years and during
that time neither Albert Durer nor anv
of his pupils knew of the noctural labors
of Duhobret. How the powers of his
physical nature were sustained under the
incessant tasking of their energies, it is
impossible to imagine.
But nature at last gave way. The
painter was seized with fever which
rapidly reduced the little strength that
remained to him. No one came to see
what had become Of poor Samuel, though
for a week he had not appeared at the
studio. No one had the humanity to
supply his wants, though he had not for
many days tasted food, merely moisten-
ing his lips with water that stood in a
stone pitcher by his bedside. As the
fever abated, the wild dreams of delirium
vanished, and Samuel thought himself
near to death For the first time bit
terncss entered his soul. He felt de-
sire to preserve the lite which seemed so
worthless to all the world. He must
procure food, and adopt desperate res
olution
Having risen from his miserable couch,
he took under his arm the last picture
he had finished, and went out, taking his
way towards the shop of vender of pic
tures Tho niece was ono on which he