“The Leviathan’s life-blood is the system of communications throughout the country; and I doubt if we can cripple that sufficiently rapidly and effectively to bring about the downfall. It would take too long and excite too much opposition if we did it thoroughly. We must have something subtler, Flint, something which will strike at each individual intelligence and isolate it from its fellows as far as possible. It’s my old problem of the breaking-strain again on the very widest scale. We must find some psychological weapon to help us. Nothing else will do.” It seemed as though he were appealing to me for suggestions; but I had nothing to offer. I had never considered such a problem; and at first sight it certainly seemed insoluble. Given that men already had the certainty of death before them, what stronger motive could one bring to bear? “I must think over it further,” he said at last, “I think I see a glimmering of some possibilities. After all, it’s my own line.” He dropped the subject and seemed to sink into his own thoughts for a time. When he broke the silence once more, it was on an entirely different subject. “I wonder if you ever read the Norse mythology, Flint? No? Well, you’ve missed something. The gods of Greece were a poor lot, a kind of divine collection of Fermiers Généreaux with much the same tastes; but the Scandinavian divinities were in a different class. They were human in a way; but their humanity wasn’t of the baser sort. And over them all hung that doom of Ragnarök, their Twilight, when the forces of Evil would be loosed for the final struggle to bring darkness upon the earth. It’s the strangest forecast of our present crisis. As Ragnarök drew near, brother was to turn against brother; bloodshed was to sweep the land. Then was to come the Winter, three years long, when all trees were to fail and all fruits to perish, while the race of men died by hunger and cold and violence. And with Ragnarök the very Gods themselves were to pass away in their struggle with all the Forces of Evil and Darkness. “But they were only half-gods, deified men. Behind them, the All-Father stood; and beyond that time of terror there lay the hope of Gimle, the new age when all would again be young and fair.