_Second_, It is a curious fact, that the active narcotic ingredients of

opium often escape the decomposing action of the digestive and other

organs. They pass unchanged into the milk of the nurse who uses it, and

have been known to poison the infant suckled by a female who had been

dozing herself largely with opiates. The odour of the drug is to be

perceived in the breath and in the perspiration; and morphia and meconic

acid are known occasionally to escape through the kidneys, and have been

found in the fluid excretions. This character the active ingredients of

opium possess in common with many other narcotic principles, such as

those of the deadly nightshade, the henbane, the thorn-apple, the

intoxicating fungus, and with many other substances used in

medicine.—PEREIRA, p. 102.

_Third_, Opium, as is well known, gradually loses its effect upon the

habitual consumer, so that the dose must be increased from time to time,

if the influence of the drug is to be maintained. But at length, even

this resource fails the inveterate opium-eaters of Constantinople, and

no increase of dose will procure for them the desired enjoyment, or even

relieve them from bodily pain. In this emergency, they have recourse to

the poisonous corrosive sublimate. Mixing at first a minute quantity of

this substance with their daily dose of opium, they increase it by

degrees, till they reach the limit of ten grains a-day, beyond which it

is usually unsafe to pass. This mixture acts upon their long-tortured

frames, when neither of the ingredients, taken alone, will either soothe

or exhilarate. But the use of the new medicine only protracts a little

longer the artificial enjoyment, which has become a necessary of life,

finally bringing to a more miserable termination the career of the

debilitated and distorted Theriaki.

We have said that, in moderate doses, opium acts in a similar way to our

wines and spirituous liquors, and that it is as a substitute for these

that the Chinese use it. By this we do not mean that its physiological

effects are precisely the same, although the main purpose for which they

are used by many—that of a care-dispeller—may be the same. On the

contrary, there are many points of difference in the effects which

alcohol and opium respectively produce. The following somewhat coloured

and imaginative picture represents their relative effects on the

constitution of the _English opium-eater_:—

“Crude opium, I affirm peremptorily, is incapable of producing any

state of body at all resembling that which is produced by alcohol; and

not in _degree_ only incapable, but even in _kind_. It is not in the

_quantity_ of its effects merely, but in the _quality_, that it

differs altogether. The pleasure given by wine is always mounting, and

tending to a crisis, after which it declines; that from opium, when

once generated, is stationary for eight or ten hours: the first—to

borrow a technical distinction from medicine—is a case of acute, the

second of chronic pleasure; the one is a flame, the other a steady and

equable glow. But the main distinction lies in this, that whereas wine

disorders the mental faculties, opium, on the contrary (if taken in a

proper manner), introduces amongst them the most exquisite order,

legislation, and harmony. Wine robs a man of his self-possession;

opium greatly invigorates it. Wine unsettles and clouds the judgment,

and gives a preternatural brightness, and a vivid exaltation to the

contempts and the admirations, the loves and the hatreds, of the

drinker; opium, on the contrary, communicates serenity and equipoise

to all the faculties, active or passive; and with respect to the

temper and moral feelings in general, it gives simply that sort of

vital warmth which is approved by the judgment, and which would

probably always accompany a bodily constitution of primeval or

antediluvian health. Thus, for instance, opium, like wine, gives an

expansion to the heart and the benevolent affections; but then with

this remarkable difference, that, in the sudden development of

kind-heartedness which accompanies inebriation, there is always more

or less of a maudlin character, which exposes it to the contempt of

the bystander. Men shake hands, swear eternal friendship, and shed

tears, no mortal knows why; and the sensual creature is clearly

uppermost. But the expansion of the benigner feelings, incident to

opium, is no febrile access, but a healthy restoration to that state

which the mind would naturally recover upon the removal of any

deep-seated irritation of pain that had disturbed and quarrelled with

the impulses of a heart originally just and good.... Wine constantly

leads a man to the brink of absurdity and extravagance; and, beyond a

certain point, it is sure to volatilise and to disperse the

intellectual energies; whereas opium always seems to compose what had

been agitated, and to concentrate what had been distracted. In short,

to sum up all in one word, a man who is inebriated, or tending to

inebriation, is, and feels that he is, in a condition which calls up

into supremacy the merely human—too often the brutal—part of his

nature; but the opium-eater (I speak of him who is not suffering from

any disease, or other remote effects of opium) feels that the diviner

part of his nature is paramount; that is, the moral affections are in

a state of cloudless serenity; and over all is the great light of the

majestic intellect.”

After this highly-coloured eulogium upon the comparative virtues of

opium and alcohol, drawn from personal experience, who could blame us

were we at once to propose the establishment of a national opium-eating,

distillery-burning society, and, Father Mathew-like, should take up our

staff, and preach everywhere the exceeding virtues of the inestimable

drug, and propose for universal imitation the admirable example of the

silver-piped Celestials? But it may occur to the reader, as it does to

ourselves, that the English opium-eater himself was brought to death’s

door by the use of his favourite drug, and was compelled to abandon his

beloved enjoyment. For the present, therefore, we refrain, and recommend

in preference our own bitters practice. Keep your morphia bottle

carefully stowed away till a new attack of toothache or sciatica comes

on, and your laudanum as a ready friend should the prevailing epidemic

approach you.

And yet even grave and matter-of-fact men are to be found—persons who

have had large experience of the use of opium in Eastern countries—who

not only pronounce the use of the drug as a narcotic indulgence to be

far from an unmitigated evil, but who especially prefer its general use

to that of alcoholic drinks. Among these we may mention Dr Eatwell, of

the East India Company’s service, whose knowledge of the history and

action of opium is acknowledged to be most extensive. The deliberate

opinion of this gentleman is deserving of much attention; and he argues

the case as follows:—

“It has been too much the practice with those who have treated this

subject to content themselves with drawing the sad picture of the

confirmed debauchee, plunged in the last stage of moral and physical

exhaustion; and having taken this exception as the premises of their

argument, to proceed at once to involve the whole practice in one

sweeping condemnation. But this is not the way in which the subject

can be fairly treated. As rational would it be to paint the horrors of

_delirium tremens_, and upon that evidence to condemn at once the

entire use of alcoholic liquors. The question to be determined is not,

what are the effects of opium used in excess, but what are its effects

on the moral and physical constitution of the mass of individuals who

use it habitually, and in _moderation_, either as a stimulant to

sustain the frame under fatigue, or as a restorative and sedative

after labour, bodily or mental. Having passed three years in China, I

can affirm thus far, that the effects of the abuse of the drug do not

come very frequently under observation, and that, when cases do occur,

the habit is frequently found to have been induced by the presence of

some painful chronic disease, to escape from the suffering of which

the patient has fled to this resource. That this is not always,

however, the case, I am perfectly ready to admit, and there are

doubtless many who indulge in the habit to a pernicious extent, led by

the same morbid influences which induce men to become drunkards in

even the most civilised countries; but these cases do not, at all

events, come before the public eye. As regards the effects of the

habitual use of the drug on the _mass_ of the people, I must affirm

that no injurious results are visible. The people are a muscular and

well-formed race, the labouring portion being capable of great and

prolonged exertion under a fierce sun, in an unhealthy climate. Their

disposition is cheerful and peaceable, and quarrels and brawls are

rarely heard even amongst the lower orders; whilst in general

intelligence they rank deservedly high amongst Orientals.

“I conclude, therefore, with observing that the proofs are still

wanting to show that the moderate use of opium produces more

pernicious effects upon the constitution than the moderate use of

spirituous liquors; whilst, at the same time, it is certain that the

consequences of the abuse of the former are less appalling in their

effects upon the victim, and less disastrous to society at large, than

the consequences of the abuse of the latter. Compare the furious

madman, the subject of _delirium tremens_, with the prostrate

debauchee, the victim of opium; the violent drunkard with the dreamy

sensualist intoxicated with opium. The latter is, at least, harmless

to all except his wretched self, whilst the former is but too

frequently a dangerous nuisance, and an open bad example to the

community at large.”[45]

It strikes us that the tone of this passage is that of an apologist for

an evil practice, rather than of a defender of a good one. But we leave

our readers to form their own opinion upon the point not unably argued

by Dr Eatwell. It may be that the ideas we have generally entertained in

this country, hitherto, as to the necessarily evil effects of the use of

opium as an indulgence, may be only unfounded prejudices. They may have

arisen from drawing too hasty and general conclusions from the manifest

evils of extreme cases; and it is possible that more knowledge may

compel us materially to alter our present opinions. Meantime the medical

missionaries inform us that the confirmed opium-consumers of China use

daily from 30 to 200 grains of the pure extract, which is equal to twice

as much of the crude opium. We might expect, therefore, a more frequent

recurrence of melancholy spectacles arising from the use of the drug,

than by the testimony of Dr Eatwell is really the case.

* * * * *

IV. HEMP.—As a general rule, little is popularly known in northern

Europe of the use of hemp as a narcotic indulgence; and yet in the East

it is as familiar to the sensual voluptuary as the opium we have been

considering.

Our common hemp (_Cannabis sativa_), so extensively cultivated for its

fibre, is the same plant with the Indian hemp, _Cannabis Indica_, which

from the remotest times has been celebrated among Eastern nations for

its narcotic virtues. The plant came to Europe from Persia, and is

supposed by many to be a native of India; but, like tobacco and the

potato, it has a wonderful power of adapting itself to differences in

soil and climate. Hence it is cultivated in northern Russia—whence our

manufacturers obtain large supplies of its valuable fibre—in Northern

America, on the plains of India and Arabia, in Africa, from its northern

to its southern extremities, and throughout the whole of Europe. But in

hot climates the fibre degenerates in quality, while the narcotic

ingredients increase in quantity, and in apparent strength.

In the sap of this plant, probably in all countries, there exists a

peculiar resinous substance in which the narcotic quality resides. In

northern climates the proportion of this substance is so small as

hitherto to have escaped notice. In the warmer regions of the East,

however, it is so abundant as to exude naturally from the flowers, from

the leaves, and from the bark of the young twigs. This is another of the

many interesting facts now known, which show the influence of climate in

modifying the chemical changes that take place in the interior of

plants, and the nature and proportions of the several substances which

are produced by these changes. We have already seen how the numerous

constituents of opium vary with the locality in which it is collected.

In India the resinous exudation of the hemp plant is collected in

various ways. In Nepaul it is gathered by the hand in the same way as

opium. This variety is very pure and much prized. It is called _Momeea_,

or waxen _Churrus_. It has a fragrant narcotic odour, and a slightly

hot, bitterish, and acrid taste. In Central India, men covered with

leathern aprons run backwards and forwards through the hemp fields,

beating the plants violently. By this means the resin is detached and

adheres to the leather. This is scraped off, and is the ordinary churrus

of commerce, the _chirs_ of Caubul. It does not bring so high a price as

the momeea. In other places the leathern aprons are dispensed with, and

the resin is collected on the naked skins of the coolies. In Persia it

is collected by pressing the resinous plant on coarse cloths, and

afterwards scraping the resin from these, and melting it in a little

warm water. The churrus of Herat is considered as one of the best and

most powerful varieties of the drug.

The plant itself is often collected and dried for the sake of the resin

it contains. The whole plant collected when in flower, and dried without

the removal of the resin, is called _Gunjah_. The larger leaves and

capsules without the stalks form _bang_, _subjee_, or _sidhee_, which is

less esteemed than the gunjah.[46]

The gunjah, when boiled in alcohol, yields as much as one-fifth of its

weight of resinous extract, and hence this method of preparing the drug

in a pure state has been recommended as the most efficient and

economical.

Among the ancient Saracens, the modern Arabs, in some parts of Turkey,

and generally throughout Syria, the preparations of hemp in common use

were, and are still, known by the names of _haschisch_, _hashash_, or

_husheesh_. The most common form of haschisch, and that which is the

basis of all others, is prepared by boiling the leaves and flowers of

the hemp with water to which a certain quantity of fresh butter has been

added, evaporating the decoction to the thickness of a syrup, and then

straining it through cloth. The butter thus becomes charged with the

active resinous principle of the plant, and acquires a greenish colour.

This preparation retains its properties for many years, only becoming a

little rancid. Its taste, however, is very disagreeable, and hence it is

seldom taken alone, but is mixed with confections and aromatics,

camphor, cloves, nutmegs, mace, and not unfrequently ambergris and musk,

so as to form a sort of electuary. The confection used among the Moors

is called _el mogen_, and is sold at an enormous price. _Dawamese_ is

the name given by the Arabs to that which they most commonly use. This

is frequently mingled, however, with other substances of reputed

aphrodisiac virtues, to enable it to minister more effectually to the

sensual gratifications, which appear to be the grand object of life

among many of the Orientals.

The Turks give the names of _Hadschy Malach_ and _Madjoun_ to the

compositions they use for purposes of excitement. According to Dr

Madden, the madjoun of Constantinople is composed of the pistils of the

flowers of the hemp plant ground to powder, and mixed in honey with

powdered cloves, nutmegs, and saffron.

Thus the hemp plant or its products are used in four different forms.

_First_, The whole plant dried and known by the name of gunjah; or the

larger leaves and capsules dried and known as bang, subjee, or sidhee;

or the dried flowers, called in Morocco _kief_, a pipe of which,

scarcely the size of an English pipe, is sufficient to intoxicate; or

the dried pistils of the flower in the madjoun of the Turks. It is

possible that these latter parts of the plant may be peculiarly rich in

resin.

_Second_, The resin which naturally exudes from the leaves and flowers,

and is, when collected by the hand, called momeea; or the same beaten

off with sticks, and sold by the name of churrus.

_Third_, The extract obtained by means of alcohol from the gunjah, and

which is said to be very active.

_Fourth_, The extract obtained by the use of butter, which, when mixed

with spices, forms the dawamese of the Arabs, and is the foundation of

the haschisch of many Eastern countries and districts. Other varieties,

however, are in use, under the name of haschisch, one of which consists

only of the tops and tender parts of the plants collected after they

have been in flower.

The dried plant is smoked, and sometimes chewed, while the resin and

resinous extracts are generally swallowed in the form of pills or

boluses. The newly-gathered plant and leaves have a rapid and energetic

action. Their efficacy diminishes, however, by keeping, which is less

the case with the natural resin and the extracts.

In one or other of these forms the hemp plant appears to have been used

from very remote times. The ancient Scythians are said by Herodotus to

have excited themselves “by inhaling its vapour.” Homer makes Helen

administer to Telemachus, in the house of Menelaus, a potion prepared

from the Nepenthes, which made him forget his sorrows. This plant had

been given to her by a woman of Egyptian Thebes; and Diodorus Siculus

states that the Egyptians laid much stress on this circumstance, arguing

that Homer must have lived among them, since the women of Thebes were

actually noted for possessing a secret by which they could dissipate

anger or melancholy. This secret is supposed to have been a knowledge of

the qualities of hemp.

It is curious how common and familiar words sometimes connect themselves

with things and customs of which we know absolutely nothing. The word

_assassin_—a foreign importation, it is true, but long naturalised among

us—is of this kind. M. Sylvester de Sacy, the well-known Orientalist,

says that this word was derived from the Arabic name of hemp. It was

originally used in Syria to designate the followers of “the old man of

the mountain,” who were called _Haschischins_, because among them the

haschisch was in frequent use, especially during the performance of

certain of their mysterious rites. Others say that, during the wars of

the Crusaders, certain of the Saracen army, intoxicated with the drug,

were in the habit of rushing into the camps of the Christians,

committing great havoc, being themselves totally regardless of death;

that these men were known as hashasheens, and that thence came our word

assassin. The Oriental term was probably in use long before the time of

the Crusades, though the English form and use of the word may have been

introduced into Europe at that period.

Nor is the use of hemp less extended than it is ancient. All over the

East, and in Mahomedan countries generally, it is consumed. In Northern

Africa it is used largely by the Moors. In Southern Africa, the

Hottentots use it under the name of _Dacha_, for purposes of

intoxication; and when the Bushmen were in London, they smoked the dried

plant in short pipes made of the tusks or teeth of animals. What is more

astonishing, when we consider what broad seas intervene, even the native

Indians of Brazil know its value, and delight in its use; so that over

the hotter parts of the globe generally, wherever the plant produces in

abundance its peculiar narcotic principle, its virtues may be said to be

known, and more or less extensively made use of.

Its effects on the system, therefore, we must suppose, are very

agreeable. In India it is spoken of as the increaser of pleasure, the

exciter of desire, the cementer of friendship, the laughtermover, and

the causer of the reeling gait,—all epithets indicative of its peculiar

effects. Linnæus describes its power as “narcotica, phantastica,

dementens, anodyna et repellens;” while in the words of Endlicher,

“Emollitum exhilarat animum, impotentibus desideriis tristem, stultam

lætitiam provocat, et jucundissima somniorum conciliat phantasmata.”

The effects of the churrus or natural resin have been carefully studied

in India by Dr O’Shaughnessy. He states that when taken in moderation it

produces increase of appetite and great mental cheerfulness, while in

excess it causes a peculiar kind of delirium and catalepsy. This last

effect is very remarkable, and we quote his description of the results

of one of his experiments with what is considered a large dose for an

Indian patient:—

“At two P.M. a grain of the resin of hemp was given to a rheumatic

patient; at four P.M. he was very talkative, sang, called loudly for

an extra supply of food, and declared himself in perfect health. At

six P.M. he was asleep. At eight P.M. he was found insensible, but

breathing with perfect regularity, his pulse and skin natural, and the

pupils freely contractile on the approach of light. Happening by

chance to lift up the patient’s arm, the professional reader will

judge of my astonishment when I found it remained in the posture in

which I placed it. It required but a very brief examination of the

limbs to find that by the influence of this narcotic the patient had

been thrown into the strangest and most extraordinary of all nervous

conditions, which so few have seen, and the existence of which so many

still discredit—the genuine catalepsy of the nosologist. We raised him

to a sitting posture, and placed his arms and limbs in every

imaginable attitude. A waxen figure could not be more pliant or more

stationary in each position, no matter how contrary to the natural

influence of gravity on the part! To all impressions he was meanwhile

almost insensible.”

This extraordinary influence he subsequently found to be exercised by

the hemp extract upon other animals as well as upon man. After a time it

passes off entirely, leaving the patient altogether uninjured.

In this effect of the hemp in India we see a counterpart of many of the

wonderful feats performed by the fakeers and other religious devotees of

that country. It indicates probably the true means also by which they

are enabled to produce them. How much power a little knowledge gives to

the dishonest and designing in every country over the ignorant and

unsuspecting masses!

The effects of the haschisch of the Arabians, which probably do not

differ from those of hemp in any of its forms, have been described to us

from his own personal experience by a French physician, M. Moreau. When

taken in small doses, its effect is simply to produce a moderate

exhilaration of spirits, or at most a tendency to unseasonable laughter.

Taken in doses sufficient to induce the _fantasia_, as its more

remarkable effects are called in the Levant, its first influence is the

same as when taken in a small dose; but this is followed by an intense

feeling of happiness, which attends all the operations of the mind. The

sun shines upon every thought that passes through the brain, and every

movement of the body is a source of enjoyment. M. Moreau made many

experiments with it upon his own person—appears indeed to have fallen

into the habit of using it even after his return to France—and he

describes and reasons upon its effects as follows:—

“It is really _happiness_ which is produced by the haschisch; and by

this I mean an enjoyment entirely moral, and by no means sensual, as

might be supposed. This is a very curious circumstance, and some

remarkable inferences might be drawn from it. Among others, for

example, that every feeling of joy and gladness, even when the cause

of it is exclusively moral—that those enjoyments which are least

connected with material objects, the most spiritual, the most

ideal—may be nothing else but sensations purely physical developed in

the interior of the system, in the same way as those which are

produced by means of the haschisch. At least, in so far as relates to

that of which we are internally conscious, there is no distinction to

be made between these two orders of sensations, in spite of the

diversity of causes to which they are due. For the haschisch-eater is

happy, not like the gourmand, or the famished man when satisfying his

appetite, or the voluptuary in the gratification of his amative

desires,—but like him who hears tidings which fill him with joy, or

like the miser counting his treasures, the gambler who is successful

at play, or the ambitious man who is intoxicated with success.”[47]

Blackwood's Edinburgh magazine, Vol. 74, No. 457, November, 1853 · 第 17 / 21 段