“These are the days allowed us for our recreation, if it may be called a recreation to be led about, like prisoners, under the narrow inspection of so many attentive eyes; for, as to the several officers concerned in the management of our island and trade, and permitted on that account to converse with us, no sincere friendship, good understanding, or familiarity, can be by any means expected of them; for, before they are admitted into our service, they must oblige themselves, by a solemn oath, to deny us all manner of communication, credit, or friendship, any ways tending to support or promote our interest.

“The person who takes this oath prays the vengeance of the supreme gods of the heavens and the chief magistrates of the country upon him, his family, his domestics, his friends and near relatives, in case he doth not sincerely fulfil and satisfy to all and every article, as they are read and specified to him after the form of the oath, which, together with these articles, must be signed by him, and sealed with his seal[139], dipped in black ink, pouring, for a still stronger confirmation, some drops of his own blood upon it, which he fetches by pricking one of his fingers behind the nail. This must be repeated twice a year, at least: first, about the beginning of the year, at the time when they perform the solemn act of theirs of trampling upon the image of our blessed Saviour, pendent from the cross, of the Virgin Mary, and of other holy persons, as a public and unquestionable proof that they forever renounce the Christian religion[140]; and again, after the arrival of our ships in the harbor, in order to remind them of the solemn obligation they lay under, and to renew their hatred towards us. The persons who are to attend us in our journey to court must, immediately after their departure, take a third oath, promising that they will have a strict hand and watchful eye over us and our conduct all along the road, and that they will not show us any particular acts of friendship, or enter into any kind of familiarity with us.

“This oath, however, though never so terrible and binding, would be but little regarded by this nation, were it not for the severe punishment put by the civil magistrate upon the least transgression thereof,—a crime that is not to be expiated but by shedding the very same blood the oath hath been confirmed by.

“Thus much I cannot forbear owning, in justice to the natives, that, even amidst all the troubles and hardships we are exposed to in this country, we have at least this comfort, that we are treated by our numerous guardians and overseers with apparent civility, with caresses, compliments, presents of victuals, and other marks of deference, so far as it is not inconsistent with their reasons of state. But this, their gentle and reasonable behavior on our behalf, is owing more to the custom of the country, and to the innate civility and good manners of the natives, than to any particular esteem they have for us, or any favor they are willing to show us.

“No Japanese, who seems to have any regard or friendship for the Dutch, is looked upon as an honest man and true lover of his country. This maxim is grounded upon the principle that it is absolutely contrary to the interests of the country, against the pleasure of their sovereign,—nay, by virtue of the oath they have taken, even against the supreme will of the gods, and the dictates of their conscience,—to show any favor to foreigners. Nay, they pursue this false reasoning still further, and pretend that a friend of foreigners must of necessity be an enemy to his country, and a rebel to his sovereign; for, they say, if the country should happen to be attacked or invaded by these foreigners, the laws and ties of friendship would oblige him to stand by them, and, consequently, to become a traitor to his country and sovereign.

“Hence, to overreach a Dutchman; to ask extravagant prices of him; to cheat and defraud him (so much as they think will not prove prejudicial to their reputation, which they have a very tender regard for); to lessen the liberties and advantages of the Dutch; to propose new projects for making their servitude and condition still worse, and the like, are looked upon as good, handsome, and lawful things in themselves, and unquestionable proofs of a good patriot.

“If anybody steals anything of the Dutch, and it be found upon him (which the kuri[141], or porters, we employ at the time of our sale are very dexterous at), there is seldom any other punishment inflicted upon him but restitution of the stolen goods, and a few lashes from soldiers upon duty at our gate. Sometimes he is banished from the island for a short time, or, if the crime be very notorious, from the town, though that is done but seldom. But the penalty inflicted upon smugglers is no less than an unavoidable death, either by beheading or the cross, according to the nature of the crime, and the degree of guilt.

“The lading and unlading of our ships, and other business of this kind, must not be done by our own people, but by the natives, who are well paid for their work, whilst our people stand idle, and have nothing to do but to look at them. But this is not the only grievance, for they always hire at least twice as many people as there is occasion for, and, if they work but one hour, we must, nevertheless, pay them a whole day’s wages.

“All the people who have anything to do for or with us, though never so numerous, and mere meddlers, must be maintained by us, either directly by appointed salaries, or indirectly by the money which the governors of the town detain from the price of our commodities.

“No Dutchman can send a letter out of the country, unless the contents be first entered into a register-book kept for this purpose, and a copy of it left with the governors. As to letters from abroad, all the public ones must be sent directly to the governors, before they are opened. As to the private ones, there are ways and means secretly to convey them to us, which the government connives at, though it be contrary to law.