Warea July 28th. 1851. My dear Maclean, Our mutual correspondence has been interrupted now already for such a length of time that I am hardly able to recollect who of us two has written last. However, I greatly fear that I am the one who is on the wrong side, and to whom the blame of neglectfulness is due. For this I have long felt as sorry as I feel ashamed of it. But before essaying to excuse my long continued silence, I think it far better and more honest to appeal at once to your kind-hearted good nature, and humbly to ask your free pardon. Anticipating the latter as being granted by you, I feel now the more encouraged to attempt, by dropping a few lines of friendly remembrance, a renewal of our former correspondence. When I had last the pleasure of seeing you at New Plymouth, I little thought that you would be absent from Taranaki for such a length of time as has elapsed since. More than a whole year has now already passed by since we have last seen each other's face; and yet as often as I am looking back, it seems to me as if we had only parted about a week ago. This may appear somewhat strange; yet when I tell you the reason, I am sure you will find it only very natural, but also receive it as being in some degree, an apology for my not writing sooner, and oftener, to you. My duties and labours, both at home and abroad, are so many, and for the greater part, of so fatiguing nature, as to absorb almost completely, all my time and strength. From early morn till night, my hands and my attention are constantly occupied with either native, or domestic affairs; and out of such days of the week, there is rarely one which affords me any leisure at all for sitting down quietly and composedly, and holding a little familiar converse, (through the medium of pen and ink.) even to those to whom I feel most dearly attached, and amongst whom you are one. The evenings I can only in any way devote to writing; and then the claim of my society, and other matters of importance demand my attention, and frequently give me more work than I am well able to get through, especially when out little one is disposed to be very wakeful and obstreperous. All this, accompanied by occasional indisposition, which several times has kept me for many days confined to bed, has made my time fly past as an eagle's wings. Notwithstanding all this, however, I can assure you, my dear Maclean, I have never forgotten you, nor have I ever lost sight of your much esteemed friendship which I have so long enjoyed, and which, I sincerely hope, I shall not be deemed