"Yeast: a Problem" by Charles Kingsley. Published by Good Press. Good Press publishes a wide range of titles that encompasses every genre. From well-known classics & literary fiction and non-fiction to forgotten−or yet undiscovered gems−of world literature, we issue the books that need to be read. Each Good Press edition has been meticulously edited and formatted to boost readability for all e-readers and devices. Our goal is to produce eBooks that are user-friendly and accessible to everyone in a high-quality digital format.
Оглавление
Charles Kingsley. Yeast: a Problem
Yeast: a Problem
Table of Contents
PREFACE TO THE FOURTH EDITION
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION
CHAPTER I: THE PHILOSOPHY OF FOX-HUNTING
CHAPTER II: SPRING YEARNINGS
CHAPTER III: NEW ACTORS, AND A NEW STAGE
CHAPTER IV: AN ‘INGLORIOUS MILTON’
CHAPTER V: A SHAM IS WORSE THAN NOTHING
CHAPTER VI: VOGUE LA GALÈRE
CHAPTER VII: THE DRIVE HOME, AND WHAT CAME OF IT
CHAPTER VIII: WHITHER?
CHAPTER IX: HARRY VERNEY HEARS HIS LAST SHOT FIRED
CHAPTER X: ‘MURDER WILL OUT,’ AND LOVE TOO
CHAPTER XI: THUNDERSTORM THE FIRST
CHAPTER XII: THUNDERSTORM THE SECOND
CHAPTER XIII: THE VILLAGE REVEL
CHAPTER XIV: WHAT’S TO BE DONE?
CHAPTER XV: DEUS E MACHINÂ
CHAPTER XVI: ONCE IN A WAY
CHAPTER XVII: THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH
EPILOGUE
Отрывок из книги
Charles Kingsley
Published by Good Press, 2019
.....
‘By the bye, my dear fellow, was I asleep or awake when I seemed to read in the postscript of your last letter, something about “being driven to Rome after all”? … Why thither, of all places in heaven or earth? You know, I have no party interest in the question. All creeds are very much alike to me just now. But allow me to ask, in a spirit of the most tolerant curiosity, what possible celestial bait, either of the useful or the agreeable kind, can the present excellent Pope, or his adherents, hold out to you in compensation for the solid earthly pudding which you would have to desert? … I daresay, though, that I shall not comprehend your answer when it comes. I am, you know, utterly deficient in that sixth sense of the angelic or supralunar beautiful, which fills your soul with ecstasy. You, I know, expect and long to become an angel after death: I am under the strange hallucination that my body is part of me, and in spite of old Plotinus, look with horror at a disembodiment till the giving of that new body, the great perfection of which, in your eyes, and those of every one else, seems to be, that it will be less, and not more of a body, than our present one. … Is this hope, to me at once inconceivable and contradictory, palpable and valuable enough to you to send you to that Italian Avernus, to get it made a little more certain? If so, I despair of your making your meaning intelligible to a poor fellow wallowing, like me, in the Hylic Borboros—or whatever else you may choose to call the unfortunate fact of being flesh and blood. … Still, write.’
