The postmaster stopped at once. The surgeon saw the necessity of re-establishing peace and concord.
"I think," he said, "that nations go through the world like the individuals of which they are composed. In youth they are wild and passionate, fight, rage, and tear each other to pieces. When older and wiser, they invent gunpowder, place host against host, and let them destroy each other in cold blood at long distances. Finally the world comes to reason, and seizes the pen which is very sharp when necessary. And then begins the reign of universal knowledge, which is certainly the best, according to my mind."
"It would be ... seven devils ... all right, cousin, I will be as quiet as a wall," said the postmaster. "I only ask what kind of a man was Gustaf Adolf? What kind of a man was Napoleon? Were they only birthday eaters of sweetmeats? What do you think? Were they fools or savages? I pray you. Do you hear, cousin? I do not swear, cousin; you should have heard Fieandt, how devilishly he swore at Karstula."
The surgeon continued, without paying any attention to the postmaster.
"Therefore, the youthful history of all nations begins with war, and the first soldier in the world's company was called Cain. But as war is as old as the world, it is likely to exist as long as it lasts. I do not believe in the new ideas about a perpetual peace. I believe that as long as human hearts retain selfish desires, the curse of war will prevail. Eternal peace consists in no longer fighting blindly, slavishly, as before, but with glad courage comprehending the reason why, and for a righteous cause; then one can hack away with right goodwill."
"Then we should always fight for an idea," said the schoolmaster thoughtfully.
"That's it, for an idea. It is to the honour of the Finnish soldier that with one exception he has always fought for the defence of his fatherland. Then he has gone out to fight on foreign soil; and our Lord has mercifully chosen that this should be for the greatest and most righteous cause of all, namely, to defend the pure Protestant faith and freedom of conscience for the whole world. The Finn was proud to know this in the Thirty Years' War. He felt within himself that his heart was the same as Gustaf Adolf's, who, I think, was the greatest general who ever lived, whilst he fought and won victories for one of the few causes that are worth bleeding for."
"Tell us more about Gustaf Adolf!" exclaimed Andreas, who could think only of that one name.
"Dear uncle, a little more about Gustaf Adolf," chimed in the rest of the children, who, with the greatest trouble, had been held in check by grandma's admonitions and sister Anne Sophie.
"Thank you. No. The great king is dead, and we will allow him to peacefully slumber in the royal vault of the church at Riddarholm, Stockholm. And if the story in future loses something from this, it will also gain something, namely, that the other characters will become more prominent. Hitherto, we have been compelled to almost exclusively fix our eyes on the heroic king, and grandmother was right in saying that we have been deafened by the thunder of the cannon. Thus, Lady Regina, and the Jesuit, and especially Bertel, who is the real hero, have all been kept in the background."