OPIUM SMOKING AND OPIUM-EATING.
There are two modes of taking opium. It is either eaten in its crude
form, or it is clarified with water and smoked in a pipe of peculiar
construction.
It is generally conceded that opium smoking is less injurious than opium
eating, bulk for bulk, of the amount consumed, and that the intemperate
or immoderate opium smoker is less liable to the toxic effects of opium
than the man who eats it raw. Why this is will be clear when it is
explained that as a result of the process of preparation for smoking it,
which consists in boiling opium with water, filtering several times,
and boiling it down again to a treacly consistency, a considerable
portion of the narcotine, caoutchouc, resin, and other deleterious
elements are removed, and this prolonged boiling and evaporation have
the effect of lessening the amount of alkaloids in the finished product.
The only alkaloids likely to remain in the prepared opium, and capable
of producing marked physiological effects, are morphia, codeia, and
narceia. Morphia in its unmixed state can be sublimed; but codeia and
narceia are said not to give a sublimate. But even if not sublimed in the
process, morphia would, in the opinion of Mr. Hugh M’Callum (Government
Analyst at Hong Kong), be deposited in the bowl of the pipe before the
smoke reached the mouth of the smoker. The bitter taste of morphia is
not noticeable when smoking opium, and it is therefore possible that the
pleasure derived from smoking opium is due to some product formed during
combustion. This supposition is rendered probable by the fact that the
opium most prized by smokers is not that containing the most morphia.
But what constitutes moderation or the reverse? The answer is
idiosyncrasy, or the degree of toleration. This is a factor which is
lost sight of by most of those who declaim against the occasional glass
or pipe. They wish to push temperance to the point of total abstinence,
and condemn the man who takes a peg of whisky without evil results,
with the man who becomes maudlin after taking a single glass of white
wine, for it is only by outward appearances they are able to judge. But
leaving them to rage in their ignorance, we must recognise the fact that
opium is one of those drugs the effects of which depend largely upon
personal idiosyncrasy and toleration. Dr. Chapman, in his _Elements of
Therapeutics_, gives two instances of remarkable cases of toleration of
opium. In one, a wineglassful of laudanum was taken by a patient several
times in the twenty-four hours; and in another, a case of cancer, the
quantity of laudanum was gradually increased to three pints daily, a
considerable quantity of crude opium being also taken in the same period!
The usual dose, as a medicine, is from one to three grains of opium,
but a consumer can take from ten to twenty, while I have met many
able to take from sixty to eighty grains. The degree of tolerance is
increased by usage and habit, and the tendency is to increase the dose
with habituation. With smokers, it is not uncommon to find Chinamen,
the heaviest consumers of opium in the world, who can dispose of three
tolas[5] of opium in the day; but they smoke it, and so can stand far
more of it than if they ate it in the crude state.
The reader who has troubled to come so far with me will not unreasonably
be curious to know how opium is smoked; so, if he will accompany me
farther, I will take him into a den and satisfy his curiosity. It is a
Chinese den. From the street it has nothing to proclaim its character;
it is like any other entrance in the street. Ah! Here comes a smoker.
Observe his deathly pallor, his appearance of emaciation, his dazed
expression. He must be a heavy smoker, soaked in the vice. Let us go in
with him! We enter. For a moment the dimness of the room flanked on three
sides with raised wooden platforms waist-high, and covered with mats,
is accentuated by our sudden entrance from the sunlit street. We become
aware of a peculiar odour in the atmosphere of the room, not unpleasant,
but peculiar. It is like nothing that we have ever sniffed before. It is
the odour of smoked opium. When our eyes, having got used to the light,
or rather darkness, of the room, we look round and see on the platforms,
sleeping forms sprawled round trays containing their smoking utensils.
Let us examine these: First there is the pipe. It is made of a single
joint of bamboo about a foot and a half long, hollow, and closed at one
end, and about an inch in diameter. About a quarter of its length up
from the closed end, there is an earthenware protuberance, not unlike a
door-knob in appearance, firmly fixed into the stem; on its top, and in
the centre, is a small orifice. This is the pipe-bowl.
[Illustration: OPIUM SMOKERS’ APPLIANCES]
Next we notice a lamp. This has a base of wood, and consists of a glass
reservoir of oil, with a string wick leading from it through a small
brass cap. Over this is a glass chimney.
Then we see the wire, like an ordinary fine knitting needle; and several
horn phials, each containing prepared opium.
[Illustration: PREPARING TO SMOKE OPIUM
(The opium on the end of the dipper being roasted over the lamp.)]
But here is the new-comer whom we followed in. He has paid the den-keeper
the small fee which makes him the temporary owner of a tray of smoking
utensils, and with these he passes us, and getting on to the platform
between two sleepers, he puts his tray down, and assumes a recumbent
attitude beside it. Lying on his left side, with his head on a hard
lacquered pillow, he draws the tray towards him and takes the pipe in his
left hand. With the other hand he takes the piece of wire, and plunges
one end of it into the horn phial containing treacly prepared opium,
withdrawing it immediately with a drop of the fluid adhering to the
point. This he maintains on the point by rapidly twirling the instrument
between two fingers, and carrying it over the flame of the lamp, he
proceeds to roast the opium. This is a delicate operation, and requires
practice. The needle is dipped into the phial again and again, and the
opium adhering to the end roasted over the flame until an appreciable
quantity of the drug has accumulated on the end of the wire. He rolls
this accumulation, still on the end of the dipper, on the flattened top
of the pipe bowl, until it has acquired the desired shape, and then
thrusts the end into the orifice in the centre of the bowl, and twirling
the wire sharply round, withdraws it, leaving the opium in the orifice.
Now, taking the lower end of the pipe in his right hand, and the mouth
end of the pipe in his left, he applies the open end to his lips and
holding the bowl almost inverted over the top of the lamp begins to take
long inhalations, the smoke escaping through his nostrils. The little
plug of opium in the orifice crackles and burns in the heat of the flame,
and we notice that the smoker now and then scrapes towards the orifice
in the bowl, all the particles of opium which remain unburnt. He finally
clears the orifice by thrusting the wire into it several times, and
disconnects the bowl from the stem. We notice it contains an appreciable
quantity of black, evil-smelling opium residue. This is the “dross,”
carefully preserved by smokers, and later on boiled with raw opium to
which it is believed to add strength. We watch him smoke a few more
pipes, and eventually the pipe falls from his nerveless hands, and he
lies still. What are the dreams which flock through his mind? We do not
know, but Bayard Taylor in his book _India, China and Japan_ tells us of
his personal experience of the effects of opium smoking. It was his first
and last attempt, and his record is interesting. He says:—“To my surprise
I found the taste of the drug as delicious as its smell is disagreeable.
It leaves a sweet, rich, flavour, like the finest liquorice, upon the
palate, and the gentle stimulus it conveys to the blood in the lungs
fills the whole body with a sensation of warmth and strength. The fumes
of the opium are no more irritating to the windpipe or bronchial tubes
than common air, while they seem imbued with a richness of vitality far
beyond our diluted oxygen.
“Beyond the feeling of warmth, vigour, and increased vitality, softened
by a happy consciousness of repose, there was no effect until after
finishing the sixth pipe. My spirits then became joyously excited with
a constant disposition to laugh; brilliant colours floated before my
eyes, but in a confused and cloudy way, sometimes converging into
spots like the eyes in a peacock’s tail, but oftenest melting into and
through each other, like the hues of changeable silk. Had the physical
excitement been greater, they would have taken form and substance, but
after smoking _nine_ pipes I desisted, through fear of subjecting myself
to some unpleasant after-effects. Our Chinese host informed me that he
was obliged to take twenty pipes in order to elevate his mind to the
pitch of perfect happiness. I went home feeling rather giddy, and became
so drowsy, with slight qualms at the stomach, that I went to bed at an
early hour—after a deep and refreshing sleep, I arose at sunrise, feeling
stronger and brighter than I had done for weeks past.”
[Illustration: CHINAMAN SMOKING OPIUM]