During my former visit here, the painter Choris, who made the voyage with me, and was afterwards murdered in Mexico, took an excellent likeness of Tameamea. I now presented to the venerable Karemaku a copper-plate engraving from this picture. The joy with which he received it was really affecting; he gazed on the picture with delight, and kissed it several times, while the tears rolled down his cheeks. On taking leave, he begged that he might have the medical assistance from our physician, as he had been long indisposed. He pressed my hand, saying, "I too am a Christian, and can read and write." That a warrior, and a statesman, should pride himself on such advantages as these above all others, proves the estimation in which they are held. The Sandwich Islanders know that these are the ties which connect them with civilized nations. Karemaku and his wife were, notwithstanding the extreme heat, dressed entirely in the European fashion. He wore a dark surtout, and black waistcoat, and pantaloons, both of very fine cloth. He was still in mourning for his beloved Tameamea, and his hat was bound with crape. The lady's dress was of black silk. A crowd of people of both sexes assembled to welcome the Regent. His foot had scarcely touched the shore, when they all began to rub each other's noses, and at a given signal, to weep aloud. This is the established etiquette in welcoming a great chief. Some of the old women of rank surrounded Karemaku, under Chinau's direction, and rubbing each other's noses, sang in a plaintive tone a song to the following effect: "Where hast thou stayed so long, beloved ruler? We have wept for thee every day. Heaven be praised that thou art here again! Dost thou feel how the earth rejoices under thy footsteps? Dost thou hear how the pigs which scent thee, joyfully grunt their welcome? Dost thou smell the roasted fish that waits thy eating? Come, we will cherish thee, that thou mayest take comfort among us." It must be confessed, that if the O Wahi language be peculiarly adapted for poetry, this composition does not do it justice. Karemaku laughed at this reception, and allowed himself to be conducted in grand procession to Nomahanna, who had not condescended to meet him. The excitement lasted the whole day. Nothing was spoken of but Karemaku's heroism, and the rebel son of Tamaris, whom he had brought with him a prisoner. This young man is called Prince George; he is about five-and-twenty, and not of a prepossessing appearance. He dresses like a European; but although educated in the United States of America, he scarcely equals a common sailor in moral attainments, and is remarkable only for his vices. Karemaku never loses sight of him. Two Yeris are appointed for his keepers; and he knows that he should be strangled if he attempted to escape.