The earl was now forty-one years of age. He was very tall, and was
considered the strongest man in England. His face was singularly
handsome, with an expression of mingled gentleness and firmness.
His bearing was courteous to all. He united a frank and straightforward
manner with a polished address rare among his rough countrymen.
Harold had travelled more and farther than any Englishman of his
age. He had visited foreign courts and mingled with people more
advanced in civilization than were those of England or Normandy,
and was centuries ahead of the mass of his countrymen. He was an
ardent advocate of education, a strong supporter of the national
church, an upholder of the rights of all men, and although he
occasionally gave way to bursts of passion, was of a singularly
sweet and forgiving disposition.
King Edward was respected by his people because, coming after two
utterly worthless kings, he had an earnest desire for their good,
although that desire seldom led to any very active results. He was
a member of their own royal house. He was deeply religious. His
life was pure and simple, and although all his tastes and sympathies
were with the land in which he had been brought up, Englishmen
forgave him this because at least he was a Saxon, while his
predecessors had been Danes. But while they respected Edward, for
Harold, their real ruler, they felt a passionate admiration. He was
a worthy representative of all that was best in the Saxon character.
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