On the day appointed, the national Thing was assembled; and Hako, after proposing a body of laws which were readily adopted, and to which we shall advert in a future chapter[189], openly adverted to the all-important subject. He besought the whole multitude, rich and poor, noble and serf, young and old, the happy and the wretched, to embrace Christianity,—to acknowledge one only God, and Jesus, the son of Mary, as his son and equal. He implored them to abandon the rites of heathenism,—to refrain from labour every seventh day, and observe it as a festival,—and to fast another day in the seven. At these words a murmur went through the multitude,—all freemen, be it remembered, all proprietors of slaves, all landowners. Were two days out of the seven to be thus lost?—for who could work on a _fast_-day? If this novelty were adopted, assuredly the ground could not be cultivated, nor could there be a sufficiency of food for the people. A rich and popular landowner of Gaulandal, the oracle of the assembled multitude, then arose. “When thou, O king, wast first elected by us in the public assembly of Drontheim, and didst restore to us the lands of our forefathers, we all thought that the highest happiness was to be our lot. But now we are in the greatest uncertainty whether thou hast really made us free, or art preparing for us a new slavery, by this strange proposal that we should abandon the religion of all our fathers—men far more excellent than we—a religion which has always been advantageous to Norway. Through the great love which we bore thee, we conferred on thee the privilege of introducing new laws. The code of laws which thou hast this day proposed, and which we have promised to maintain, we shall all of us inviolably maintain. All of us will follow thee as our leader, and honour thee as our king,—while any one of us shall live,—so that thou wilt proceed moderately, and ask not from our love what we cannot lawfully grant. But if, as now seems to be the case, thou not only requirest this change from us, but art preparing to force our inclinations to it, know that we have all determined to abandon thee, and to choose another king, under whose sway we may be permitted to observe a religion so dear to our hearts.” The good sense of this reply might have been despised by Hako; but the menace was to be regarded, when it was received with applause by the assembled multitude. This was a critical moment, and Sigurd, whose authority, alike from his dignity and character, was so great, now came forward. As soon as the tumult had subsided, he assured them that the king wished what they wished, and that the good understanding between them would never be destroyed. The people replied,—“Then let king Hako do as his father did,—offer sacrifices to the gods for abundance and peace!” When the assembly was dissolved, Sigurd besought the king to reserve his intention of proselyting for more suitable times, and, above all, not to incense