The Abduction of Prometheus. By Max Klinger
Berthold Auerbach. By Hans Meyer
Two Coffins were carried away from the little House. By Benjamin Vautier
Amrei briskly brought her Pitcher filled with Water. By Benjamin Vautier
Tears fell upon the Paternal Coat. By Benjamin Vautier
He gave her his Hand for the Last Time. By Benjamin Vautier
While she was milking John asked her all kinds of
Questions. By Benjamin
A New Citizen. By Benjamin Vautier
The Bath. By Benjamin Vautier
In Ambush. By Benjamin Vautier
First Dancing Lessons. By Benjamin Vautier
Fritz Reuter. By Wulff
Bible Lesson. By Benjamin Vautier
Between Dances. By Benjamin Vautier
The Bridal Pair at the Civil Marriage Office. By Benjamin Vautier
Adalbert Stifter. By Daffinger
A Mountain Scene. By H. Reifferscheid
Leavetaking of the Bridal Pair. By Benjamin Vautier
The Barber Shop. By Benjamin Vautier
Wilhelm Heinrich Riehl
An Official Dinner in the Country. By Benjamin Vautier
At the Sick Bed. By Benjamin Vautier
A Village Funeral. By Benjamin Vautier
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This volume, containing chiefly masterpieces of the Novel of Provincial Life, is illustrated by the principal works of one of the foremost painters of German peasant life, Benjamin Vautier. These picture’s have been so arranged as to bring out in natural succession typical situations in the career of an individual from the cradle to the grave. In order not to interrupt this succession, Auerbach’s Little Barefoot, likewise illustrated by Vautier, has been placed before Gotthelf’s Uli, The Farmhand, although Gotthelf, and not Auerbach, is to be considered as the real founder of the German village story.
The frontispiece, Karl Spitzweg’s Garret Window, introduces a master of German genre painting who in a later volume will be more fully represented.
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THE NOVEL OF PROVINCIAL LIFE
By Edwin C. Roedder, Ph.D.
Associate Professor of German Philology, University of Wisconsin
To Rousseau belongs the credit of having given, in his passionate cry “Back to Nature!” the classic expression to the consciousness that all the refinements of civilization do not constitute life in its truest sense. The sentiment itself is thousands of years old. It had inspired the idyls of Theocritus in the midst of the magnificence and luxury of the courts of Alexandria and Syracuse.