A DEBATE, A, D. 1000 . 
99 
Christian king of Norway,—and the same who pulled 
down London bridge. 
The assembly met. The Norse missionaries were 
called upon to enunciate to the House the tenets of the 
faith they were commissioned to disclose; and the 
debate began. Great and fierce was the difference of 
opinion. The good old Tory party, supported by all 
the authority of the Odin establishment, were violent 
in opposition. The Whigs advocated the new arrange¬ 
ment, and, as the king supported their own views, 
insisted strongly on the Divine right. Several liberal 
members permitted themselves to speak sarcastically 
of the Valhalla tap, and the ankles of Freya. The 
discussion was at its height, when suddenly a fearful 
peal of subterranean thunder roared around the Althing. 
“ Listen!” cried an orator of the Pagan party; “how 
angry is Odin that we should even consider the subject 
of a new religion. His fires will consume us.” To 
which a ready debater on the other side replied, by 
“ begging leave to ask the honourable gentleman,—■ 
with whom were the Gods angry when these rocks 
were melted?”-—pointing to the devastated plain around 
him. Taking advantage of so good a hit, the Treasury 
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