That was probably Yule’s last utterance on a public question.  The sands of life were now running low, and in the spring of 1889, he felt it right to resign his seat on the India Council, to which he had been appointed for life.  On this occasion Lord Cross, then Secretary of State for India, successfully urged his acceptance of the K.C.S.I., which Yule had refused several years before.

In the House of Lords, Viscount Cross subsequently referred to his resignation in the following terms.  He said:  “A vacancy on the Council had unfortunately occurred through the resignation from ill-health of Sir Henry Yule, whose presence on the Council had been of enormous advantage to the natives of the country.  A man of more kindly disposition, thorough intelligence, high-minded, upright, honourable character, he believed did not exist; and he would like to bear testimony to the estimation in which he was held, and to the services which he had rendered in the office he had so long filled."[73]

This year the Hakluyt Society published the concluding volume of Yule’s last work of importance, the Diary of Sir William Hedges.  He had for several years been collecting materials for a full memoir of his great predecessor in the domain of historical geography, the illustrious Rennell.[74] This work was well advanced as to preliminaries, but was not sufficiently developed for early publication at the time of Yule’s death, and ere it could be completed its place had been taken by a later enterprise.

During the summer of 1889, Yule occupied much of his leisure by collecting and revising for re-issue many of his miscellaneous writings.  Although not able to do much at a time, this desultory work kept him occupied and interested, and gave him much pleasure during many months.  It was, however, never completed.  Yule went to the seaside for a few weeks in the early summer, and subsequently many pleasant days were spent by him among the Surrey hills, as the guest of his old friends Sir Joseph and Lady Hooker.  Of their constant and unwearied kindness, he always spoke with most affectionate gratitude.  That autumn he took a great dislike to the English climate; he hankered after sunshine, and formed many plans, eager though indefinite, for wintering at Cintra, a place whose perfect beauty had fascinated him in early youth.  But increasing weakness made a journey to Portugal, or even the South of France, an alternative of which he also spoke, very inexpedient, if not absolutely impracticable.  Moreover, he would certainly have missed abroad the many friends and multifarious interests which still surrounded him at home.  He continued to take drives, and occasionally called on friends, up to the end of November, and it was not until the middle of December that increasing weakness obliged him to take to his bed.  He was still, however, able to enjoy seeing his friends—­some to the very end, and he had a constant stream of visitors, mostly old friends, but also a few newer ones, who were scarcely less welcome.  He also kept up his correspondence to the last, three attached brother R.E.’s, General Collinson, General Maclagan, and Major W. Broadfoot, taking it in turn with the present writer to act as his amanuensis.