Dr. McPherson, in writing of the Shikhs, informs us that most of the Shirdars are under the influence of spirits or of opium for eighteen hours out of the twenty-four. Their early use, both of the spirit and the drug, renders them indispensable through life. If deprived of their usual dose, the Shikh is one of the most wretched beings imaginable. Before engaging in any feast, the Shikh takes his opium, by which he is for a time excited, and this is soon followed by languor and inactivity. Talking of Runjeet Sing, who was at that time labouring under paralysis, from which eventually he died, he says he still used opium, so that little could be expected from remedial means.
The Shikhs are forbidden the use of tobacco by the tenets of their religion, but find a ready substitute for it in opium, which is consumed in great quantities throughout the whole of the Punjaub, as well as among the protected Shikh states. While under the effects of this drug, the Shikh is a very different person to the same individual before he has taken it. In the former instance, he is active and talkative; in the latter, lazy and stupid.
It has been imagined that the preparation of opium has an injurious effect upon those engaged therein; but Dr. Eatwell, of the Benares Agency, states that, “amongst the thousands of individuals, cultivators, and employés, with whom the factory is filled during the receiving and manufacturing seasons, no complaints are ever heard of any injurious effects resulting from the influence of the drug, whilst they all remain quite as free from general sickness as persons unconnected with the general establishment—in fact, if anything, more so. It occasionally happens that a casual visitor to the factory complains of giddiness or headache; but the European officers employed in the department, who pass the greater part of the day with the thermometer between 95° and 105° Fah. amongst tons of the drug, never experience any bad effects from it. The native purkhea sits usually from six A.M. to three P.M. daily, with his hand and arm immersed nearly the whole time in the drug, which he is constantly smelling, and yet he feels no inconvenience from it. He has informed me, that at the commencement of the season, he experiences usually a sensation of numbness in the fingers; but I believe this to be more the result of fatigue, consequent upon the incessant use of the arm and fingers, than of any effect of the opium. In the large caking-vats, men are employed to wade knee-deep through the drug for several hours during the morning, and they remain standing in it during the greater part of the rest of the day, serving out the opium by armsful, their bodies being naked, with the exception of a cloth about the loins. These men complain of a sensation of drowsiness towards the end of their daily labours, and declare that they are overpowered early in the evening by sleep, but they do not complain of the effect as being either unpleasant or injurious.
“Infants, of a few months old, may be frequently seen lying on the opium-besmeared floor, under the vats, in which dangerous position they are left by their thoughtless mothers; but, strange to say, without any accident ever occurring. Here are abundant facts to show that the health of those employed in the opium-factory, and in the manipulation of the drug, is not exposed to any risk whatever; whilst the impunity with which the drug is handled by hundreds of individuals, for hours together, proves that it has no endemic action; for I am inclined to consider the soporific effect experienced by the vat-treaders as produced through the lungs, and not through the skin.” This may be considered, therefore, as setting the question entirely at rest, and demonstrating the fact that the factory labourers are not sufferers.
According to a Chinese petition presented on one occasion to the Emperor, it is believed that the English, by introducing opium into that country, did so as a means of its subjugation, presuming, we may suppose, that the Celestials were invincible, except by some such cabalistic means. “In the History of Formosa,” says this document, “we find the following passage: ‘Opium was first produced in Kaoutsinne, which by some is said to be the same as Kalapa or Batavia. The natives of this place were at the first sprightly and active, and, being good soldiers, were always successful in battle. But the people called Hung-maou (red-haired) came thither, and having manufactured opium, seduced some of the natives into the habit of smoking it. From these, the mania for it spread rapidly through the whole nation; so that in process of time the natives became feeble and enervated, submitted to foreign rule, and ultimately were completely subjugated. Now the English,’ it continues, ‘are of the race of foreigners called Hung-maou. In introducing opium into this country, their purpose has been to weaken and enfeeble the Central Empire. If not early aroused to a sense of our danger, we shall find ourselves, ere long, on the last step towards ruin.’”
The degradation or subjugation of the Chinese is much more likely to be affected by a habit concerning which we hear less, but which is infinitely more disastrous than the indulgence in opium. This is the brandy-drinking customs of the north. This horrible drink, distilled from millet, is the Chinaman’s delight, and he swallows it like water. Many ruin themselves with brandy, as others do with gaming. In company, or even alone, they will pass whole days and nights in drinking successive little cups of it, until their intoxication makes them incapable of carrying the cup to their lips. “Gambling and drunkenness,” says Abbé Huc, “are the two permanent causes of pauperism in China.”
It is unfortunately the custom for the distillers to supply brandy on credit for a whole year, so that a tippler may go on for a long time drawing from this inexhaustible spring. His troubles will only begin in the last moon—the legal period of payment. Then, indeed, he must pay, and with usury; and as money does not usually become more plentiful with a man from the habit of getting drunk every day, he has to sell his house and his land, if he has any, or to carry his furniture and his clothes to the pawnbroker’s. In the south, there is less brandy-drinking, and more gambling; but between the two there is little to choose, as either impoverishes those who devote themselves to its service, and to which even opium-smoking is preferable.
Mr. Meadows, the Chinese Government Interpreter at Hong-Kong, says, “As to the morality of the opium question, I am fortunately able to give the home reader, by analogy, and in a few words, as exact an idea of it as I have got myself. Smoking a little opium daily, is like taking a pint or two of ale, or a few glasses of wine daily; smoking more opium is like taking brandy as well as beer and wine, or a large allowance of these latter; smoking very much opium is like excessive brandy and gin-drinking, leading to delirium tremens and premature death. After frequent consideration of the subject during thirteen years, the last two spent at home, I can only say that, although the substances are different, I can, as to the morality of producing, selling, and consuming them, see no difference at all; while the only difference I can observe in the consequences of consumption is, that the opium-smoker is not so violent, so maudlin, or so disgusting as the drunkard. The clothes and breath of the confirmed and constant smoker are more or less marked by the peculiar penetrating odour of opium, and he gets careless in time of washing from his hands the stains from his pipe. But all this is not more disagreeable than the beery, vinous, or ginny odour, and the want of cleanliness that characterize the confirmed drunkard. In all other respects, the contrast is to the disadvantage of the drunkard.”
Without pursuing this question further, there is evidently a fascination in the pipe to the opium-smoker, to a degree of which the most ardent lover of a pipe of tobacco has but a faint idea. In proportion as the indulgence in the drug produces a state of happiness far transcending all that the votary of the weed experiences, so does its influence over him increase; and if it is difficult for the habitual smoker of tobacco to forego the pleasure of his accustomed pipe, it is therefore ten times more difficult for the smoker or eater of opium to renounce for ever, a custom which brings with it, even in imagination though it may be, tenfold more pleasures, and a more ecstatic enjoyment. This is the universal evidence of all who have been inquired of, and of all who have had intercourse with opiophagi in all parts of the world.
What fascinating influence this Paradise in prospect has upon those who indulge in journeys thither, may be imagined from the notorious fact, that in Bristol, Coleridge went so far as to hire men—porters, hackney-coachmen, and others—to oppose by force his entrance into any druggist’s shop. But as the authority for stopping him was derived only from himself, so these poor men found themselves in a fix; for when the time and the inclination arrived, he proceeded to the shop, and on their offering resistance, he, the same who had instructed them to prevent his entrance, now insisted on their allowing him to pass, annulled all former instructions, and on the authority of one who paid for their services, demanded its exercise as he thought fit, and the gates of Paradise were opened.