Friday of that week was the anniversary of their marriage, but it was impracticable for his wife to be brought to his bedside. Saturday it became evident that the end was not far away, and she was permitted to see him; and he seemed so comforted by her presence, though he was too weak to talk much, that they allowed her to stay. In response to a telegram, his brother Robert and Madge, his wife, came at once. Saturday afternoon his mind wandered, and seemed to run on the affairs of the college. Sunday morning he asked Robert to pray with him; and in connection with this one of the great passions that had long possessed him manifested itself. As on the journey down on the boat he lay exhausted, he had said to Dr. Goodrich: “They must do their best to cure me at the hospital, so that I can finish the Psalms. That is all I have to live for now”—meaning, of course, by this, only the work to which he had given himself. Now, when his brother in his prayer asked that the sufferer at whose bedside he knelt might be given an abundant entrance into the heavenly rest, Dr. Mateer cried out: “Raise your faith a notch higher, Robert. Pray that I may be spared to finish the translation of the Psalms.” Then he asked that Dr. Hayes be called in, and he requested him to pray for this; and when this was done he added, “O Lord, may this prayer be answered!” On Sabbath when some of his “boys,” alumni of the Shantung College, who were living in the town came to see him, he was so weak that he could only say to them, “Good-by.”