What was the meaning of that?
Now the third phase of the man had come to excite in me more surprise
and interest than the former ones. This time the change was complete.
Mohun seemed no longer himself. Was the man riding beside me the old
Mohun of 1863? Where was the gloomy misanthropy--where the rollicking
humor? They had quite disappeared. Mohun's glance was gentle and his
countenance filled with a charming modesty and sweetness. His voice,
once so cold, and then so hilarious, had grown calm, low, measured,
almost soft. His smile was exquisitely cordial; his glance full of
earnestness and sweetness. The heaven-born spirit of kindness--that
balm for all the wounds of human existence--shone in his eyes, on his
lips, in every accent of his voice.
Colonel Mohun had been reckless, defiant, unhappy, or wildly gay.
General Mohun was calm, quietly happy it seemed. You would have said of
him, formerly, "This is a man who fights from hatred of his enemies, or
the exuberant life in him." Now you would have said, "This is a patriot
who fights from principle, and is worthy to die in a great cause."
What had worked this change? I asked myself once more. Was it love? Or
was it the conviction which the Almighty sends to the most hardened,
that life is not made to indulge hatred, but to love and perform our
duty in?
I knew not; but there was the phenomenon before me.
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