Two mornings successively I have set aside for answering your letter with one or two others, but from breakfast till now when the dinner is almost ready, I have had a number of visitors one after another till I lost my patience as well as my time . However tho I have lost a few minutes (for an inflammation in my eyes prevents my doing any thing by candle light) I snatch up my pen, as perhaps you may be waiting for an answer respecting M^r. Coan, thus he spells his name. ^[2] I am however not well qualified to give an opinion as I do not know him at all. I believe him to be a very pious young /man/ of the Calvinistic School . But he is an Irishman with all the warmth and impetuosity of his country. I should be grieved to say any thing that might be injurious to a deserving Man but it /is/ my private opinion that he would not be well calculated for the temperate zone of Clapham. He has got himself into two or three little scrapes and tho I really am inclined to think he was not the aggressor yet the habit of getting into scrapes generally indicates the want of a cool temper. If Clapham was an obscure Village I should not have said a word of this, as few villages are perhaps better supplied but he does not stay long in a place I observe. I should /think him/ not fit for so enlightened – Patty would say critical congregation as Clapham. Pray present my best regards to M^r. Daltry^[3] and tell him I begin to fear I must wait till we meet in a better world before I shall /enjoy/ that long indulged wish of making his acquaintance I entertain better hopes as to seeing you and your admirable friends if it please God to spare me till the Summer I beg my most affectionate respects to them and love to dear Lucy who is to be of the Barley Wood party.

Had I written a few days ago I could have given you a favourable report of my Sister.^[4] but she has had another of her alarming attacks in the lungs and is just now now faint and weak. I thank God, who is always better to me than I deserve, that I have been tolerably for some weeks. Your account of the increasing excesses of the Baringites is shocking.^[5] I begin to think now that the worse they are the delirium they have excited will be the sooner cooled. What between the blaze of these new lights and the frost of the worldly clergy our poor church is sadly threatened. I would not send off this which I cannot ever look over but that to morrow there is no post, and M^r. D. may be in suspense. M^r. Dunn has been false-hearted, for I thought he would have looked in upon us again . I rejoyce Charles Grant is so popular. He cannot be more so than he deserves. if he woud talk more he would be perfect. I am glad his rare talents have such a field. I am afraid tho, that it is a weedy, tho far from being a barren field. I long to know whither the School for the Sons of the great at which M^r. Grant sent me the prospectus prospers, if it does I shall hail the omen for poor Ireland. I grieve for dear M^rs. Grants illness. I do love her. I am glad you nursed her so kindly