If ever the ruler of a nation is to be justified for going to war when his country is not actually invaded, it was doubtless Gustavus Adolphus.  Had he withheld his aid, the probability is that all Germany would have succumbed to the Austrian emperor, and have been incorporated with his empire; and not only Germany, but Denmark and Sweden.  The Protestant religion would have been suppressed in northern Germany, as it was in France by Louis XIV.  There would have been no Protestant country in Europe, but England, and perhaps Holland.  A united German Empire, with the restoration of the Catholic religion, would have been a most dangerous power,—­much more so than at the present day.  Some there are, doubtless, who would condemn Gustavus for the invasion of Germany, and think he ought to have stayed at home and let his unfortunate neighbors take care of themselves the best way they could.  Perhaps the peace societies would take this ground, and the apostles of thrift and material prosperity.  But I confess, when I see a man like the King of Sweden, with all the temptations of luxury and ease, encountering all sorts of perils and fatigues,—­yea, offering up his life in battle in order to emancipate suffering humanity,—­then every generous impulse and every dictate of enlightened reason urge me to add my praises with those of past generations in honor of such exalted heroism.

According to the authors of those times, signs and prodigies appeared, to warn mankind of the sanguinary struggle which was now to take place.  “In the dead of night, on wild heaths, in solitary valleys, the clang of arms was heard.  Armies were seen encountering each other in the heavens, marshalled by aerial leaders, while monstrous births, mock suns, and showers of fire filled the minds of the superstitious with fear and dread.  It would be puerile to believe these statements, yet if the stupendous framework of external nature ever could exhibit sympathy with the brief calamities of man, it may well be supposed to have been displayed when one of the fairest portions of the earth was again to be ravaged with fire and sword; and when the melancholy lesson, so often exemplified before, was to receive still further confirmation,—­that of all the evils with which Divine wisdom permits this world to be visited, none can be compared to those which the wrath of man is so often eager to inflict upon his fellows.”

I need not detail the various campaigns of the Swedish hero, his marchings and counter-marchings, his sieges and battles and victories, until the power of Austria was humbled and northern Germany was delivered.  The history of all war is the same.  There is no variety except to the eye of a military man.  Military history is a dreary record of dangers, sufferings, mistakes, and crimes; occasionally it is relieved by brilliant feats of courage and genius, which create enthusiastic admiration, but generally it is monotonous.  It has but little interest except to contemporaries.