Let it not be supposed, however, that Luard confined his attention in literature to the classics. He was an insatiable reader of books on all subjects, and if the book was a new one he was particular that his copy should be uncut. He liked to read sitting in his armchair, and to cut the leaves as he went along. What he began, he considered it a point of honour to finish. It was a joke against him that he had read every word of _The Cornhill Magazine_, which he had taken in from the beginning; and I have heard him admit, more than once, that this was really the case. I think it quite likely that he had submitted the volumes published under the authority of the Master of the Rolls, to the same searching investigation; for he could give a curiously minute account of the merits and demerits of each work, supported, as usual with him, by numerous quotations, cited with much volubility of utterance, and, it may be added, with unerring accuracy. The pace at which he got through a ponderous volume—without skipping, be it remarked—was really astonishing, and when he had come to the end he could not only give a clear and connected account of what he had read, but it became part of himself, and he could quote long afterwards any passage that had specially struck him.
The variety of Luard’s interests at all periods of his life, was remarkable, especially when it is remembered that he was a genuine student, with a horror of superficiality, and a conscientious determination to do whatever he took in hand as well as it could be done. But he was no Dry-as-dust. He was keenly alive to all that was passing in the world, and unlike a contemporary Cambridge antiquary who was once heard to ask, “Is the _Times_ still published?” he not only read the paper through every day, but had his own very definite opinions on men and measures. There was nothing narrow about him; he was a patriotic Englishman, but he did not ignore the existence of the Continent, and his favourite relaxation was foreign travel. As a young man he had travelled extensively, not only in Europe, but in Egypt, where he had ascended the Nile as far as the second cataract: and, as he grew older, he still sought refreshment in going over parts of his old tours, especially in those by-ways of Central Italy which lie within the limits of what he affectionately called “dear old Umbria.” He spoke more than one foreign language fluently; and, being entirely destitute of British angularity, and British prejudices in politics and religion, he always got on exceedingly well with foreigners, especially with foreign ecclesiastics. I feel that I am saying only what is literally true when I affirm that few Englishmen have understood the creed and the practice of the Roman clergy in Italy so thoroughly as he did. In illustration of this view I would refer my readers to an article called _Preaching and other matters in Rome in 1879_ which he contributed to the _Church Quarterly Review_[119]. Further, he took an intelligent interest in antiquities of all sorts, and had an acquaintance with art that was something more than respectable. Here his excellent memory stood him in good stead, for he never forgot either a picture which he had once seen, or the place in which he had seen it.