The weekly Lancaster gazette. (Lancaster, Ohio) 1852-1855, 1854-06-22
THBPAINTEa DUnonnBT.1

ed, but OF charity, discerning in him traces
of talent which be considered wortheultiva-
ton. This cultivation was not hopeless,
under the eve Of the master, even in one
who had. passed the age of forty, who was
poor even to indigence, and who had hith-
erto contrived to gain. a scanty subsistence
by painting signs on the coarsest tapestry,
at that time much used in Germany. The
name of this man, on whom fortune seem
ed to have wreaked her utmost spite, was
Samuel Duhobert. He was short in stat
lure, crooked and ugly to a proverb, and
withal had an imperfection in his speech
that rendered his enunciation difficult and
at times unintelligible. He was. coHse-
quently the built 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 occasionally
visited the studio, and always had some
thing harsh to say about the pupils who
brought her husband no recompence for
his trouble. In short, poor Duhobret's
existence was joyless enough; and it would
have been a 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
from toll and humiliation into the country.
There, under the free sky, with the smil-
ing 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 sketch
ing some of the beautiful country seats in
the neighborhood of Nuremberg. In this
pleasing occupation, and with no one near
10 laugh and jeer at him, Samuel was no
longer the same man: The abject and
melancholy expression disappeared from
his face, which lightened and glowed with
the strange happiness hefelt, as dropping
plants revive and brightenin colo runder the
influence or sunshine.
Choosing some quiet and sheltered spot,
Duhobrct was accustomed to pass many
hours of tho 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
gilmore importance, and energy to shrink
from no toll or privation. When he re-
turned 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 hima double portion of
scorn and derision. He applied himself
quietly to his daily tasks in the stadio, and
while he improved in the mechanical part
of his art; nonrished conceptions that gave
him world ofhisown creation.
Every day, asa general rule, Samuel
came early to the studio of Durer; and re-
manned until evening. Then he retired to
the comfortless cell in which he lodged ,and
worked in the silent hours ofnight to trans
fer to his canvass the dreams of beauty he
had brought from the country. He sub
mitted to incredible privations to obtain the
means Of procuring pencils, colors, etc., nay,
so ardent was his longing for progress with
out obstacle, that he is said, by the histor-
ian of his life, to have been only withheld
by stern principles from stealing those indis-
pensable articles from his companions.
Thus passed three years; and during that
time neither Albert Durer nor any of his
pupils knew of the nocturnal labors of Du-
hobret. 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 paint
er was seized with a fever which rapidly
reduced the little strength that remained
to-him. No one came to see what had be
come ofpoor Samuel, though for 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 smoistened his lips with water
that stood in a stone pitcher that stood by
his bed side. AS the fever abated, the
wild dreams Of delirium vanished, and
Samuel thought himself near to DEATH
For the first time bitterness entered his
soul He felta desire to preserve the life
which seemed SO worthless to all the world.
He must procure food, and adopted reso-
luton: 81 a..>s.- -s,e.
Having risen from the miserable couch,
he took under his arm the last picture he
had finished, and went out, taking his way
towards the shop Of a vender of pictures.
The piece was one on which he had bestow-
ed great pains; but he resolved to sell it for
whatever price was offered, ifonly enough
10 purchase single meal.
As he dragged himselfwith difficulty a.
long the street, he passed house in front
Eof which a crowd wero, assembled. On
inquiring the cause, Duhobret learned that
a great sale was to take place. Various
works of art, collected during thirty years,
by an amateur, whose gallery was the ad-
miration ofall Nuremberg, were to be sold
at public auction, the death of the owner
having occurred. .t
Struck with the hope of here finding a
market for his painting, Samuel pressed
through the crowd to the salesman, and by
dint Of entreaties, and the feeling OF COM
passion awakened by his wretched aspect,
prevailed on him to allow the piece to be
offered at auction. Theprice at which he
estimated its worth, was three thalers.-
"Let it co." said the artist to himself 'the
money win procure me bread for week
i purchaser can be found" - '~f
The picture was examined andcriticised
by many persons. The exhausted and
anxious artist stood apart. AT last 1t was
set up for sale. The mohotonous voice oil
the auctioneer repeated sat three thalers-
who viii buy it? AT three thalersP'--
There was no response. ~, s5
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