“‘Moriturus vos saluto’ Breathes his last the dying scholar— Tireless student, brilliant writer; He ‘salutes his age’ and journeys To the Undiscovered Country. There await him with warm welcome All the heroes of old Story— The Venetians, the Cà Polo, Marco, Nicolo, Maffeo, Odoric of Pordenone, Ibn Batuta, Marignolli, Benedict de Goës—‘Seeking Lost Cathay and finding Heaven.’ Many more whose lives he cherished With the piety of learning; Fading records, buried pages, Failing lights and fires forgotten, By his energy recovered, By his eloquence re-kindled. ‘Moriturus vos saluto’ Breathes his last the dying scholar, And the far off ages answer: _Immortales te salutant_. D. M.” The same idea had been previously embodied, in very felicitous language, by the late General Sir William Lockhart, in a letter which that noble soldier addressed to the present writer a few days after Yule’s death. And Yule himself would have taken pleasure in the idea of those meetings with his old travellers, which seemed so certain to his surviving friends.[78] He rests in the old cemetery at Tunbridge Wells, with his second wife, as he had directed. A great gathering of friends attended the first part of the burial service which was held in London on 3rd January, 1890. Amongst those present were witnesses of every stage of his career, from his boyish days at the High School of Edinburgh downwards. His daughter, of course, was there, led by the faithful, peerless friend who was so soon to follow him into the Undiscovered Country.[79] She and his youngest nephew, with two cousins and a few old friends, followed his remains over the snow to the graveside. The epitaph subsequently inscribed on the tomb was penned by Yule himself, but is by no means representative of his powers in a kind of composition in which he had so often excelled in the service of others. As a composer of epitaphs and other monumental inscriptions few of our time have surpassed, if any have equalled him, in his best efforts. SIR GEORGE UDNY YULE, C.B., K.C.S.I.[80]