Dear Sir,
Although I am not able to write one word myself, yet I am very desirous to speak one more word to you in this world, and do it by the hand of my wife. The continuance of your entire kindness is not only greatly valued by me, but will be a refreshment to me, as it is, even in my dying hour.
I am going to Him whom my soul has loved, or rather who has loved me with an everlasting love, — which is the whole ground of all my consolation. The passage is very wearisome, through strong pains of various sorts, which are all issued in an intermittent fever.
All things were provided to carry me to London today, according to the advice of my physicians. But we are all disappointed by my utter disability to undertake the journey.
I am leaving the ship of the church in a storm. But while the great Pilot is in it, the loss of a poor under-rower will be inconsiderable. Live, and pray, and hope, and wait patiently, and do not despond. The promise stands invincible, that He will never leave us, nor forsake us.
I am greatly afflicted at the ailments of your dear wife. The good Lord stand by her and support her and deliver her. My affectionate respects to her, and the rest of your family, who are so dear to me in the Lord.
Remember your dying friend with all fervency. I rest upon it that you do so, and am yours entirely,
John Owen
—from The Works of John Owen. This letter was addressed to Charles Fleetwood, Owen’s best friend. It was written on August 23, 1683, the day before Owen died.