Try and conquer your organ of veneration, or of benevolence, or of calculation--then I will call you an ascetic.

Why not!--The same Power which made the front of one's head made the back, I suppose?
'And, I tell you, hunting does me good.

It awakens me out of my dreary mill-round of metaphysics.

It sweeps away that infernal web of self-consciousness, and absorbs me in outward objects; and my red-hot Perillus's bull cools in proportion as my horse warms.

I tell you, I never saw a man who could cut out his way across country who could not cut his way through better things when his turn came.