On May 21, 1844...
Venerable John Henry Newman wrote to his sister Jemima:

I am very sorry to make you anxious, but do not know what to do. I don't like you to be ignorant of my state of mind, yet don't like to tease you with my rigmarole statements. Unless anything happened which I considered a divine call, and beyond all calculation, I never should take anyone by surprise, and therefore you need not alarm yourself as if anything were happening. But if I judge of the future by the past, and when I recollect the long time, now nearly five years, that certain views and feelings have been more or less familiar to me, and sometimes pressing on me, it would seem as if anything might happen. And I must confess that they are very much clearer and stronger than they were even a year ago. I can no more calculate how soon they may affect my will and become practical, than a person who has long had a bodily ailment on him (though I hope and trust it is not an ailment) can tell when it may assume some critical shape, though it may do so any day.