The Truth about Opium

In the preface to my first edition I expressed a hope that these lectures, however imperfect, would prove in some degree instrumental towards breaking up the Anti-Opium confederacy, and I have the satisfaction of knowing that my anticipations have not been altogether disappointed. The lectures were well received by the public and the press, and struck the Anti-Opium Society and its versatile Secretary, the Rev. Mr. Storrs Turner, with such consternation that, in the language of people in difficulties, “business was discontinued until further notice.” Mr. Storrs Turner,—the motive power which kept the Anti-Opium machine working,—who had hitherto been so active, aggressive, and demonstrative—a very Mercutio in volubility and fertility of resource,—became suddenly silent, mute as the harp on Tara’s walls. He who once was resonant as the lion, like Bottom the Weaver, moderated his tone, and roared from thenceforth “gently as any sucking dove.” Until the delivery of my lectures, no lark at early morn was half so lively or jubilant. Letters to the newspapers, articles in magazines, improvised lectures and speeches, flew from him like chaff from the winnowing-machine. Heaven help the unlucky individual who had the temerity to differ from him on the opium question, for Mr. Storrs Turner would, as the phrase goes, “come down upon him sharp.”

This kind of light skirmishing suited him exactly; it kept[Pg iv] alive public interest in the Anti-Opium delusion, and no doubt brought grist to the mill, without committing him to anything in particular, or calling for any extraordinary draft upon his imagination or resources. He had only to reiterate loud enough the cuckoo cry that his deluded followers had so long recognised as the pæan of victory. But when my lectures were delivered, and it was announced that they would be published, “a change came o’er the spirit of his dream.” Having for so many years had practically all the field to himself, it had never occurred to him that another and more competent witness from China, where all these imaginary evils from opium smoking were alleged to be taking place,—who had had better opportunities of learning the truth about opium than he could possibly have had, and who had turned those opportunities to good account,—should appear and refute his fallacies. This was a dénouement that neither he nor his Society was prepared for, and dismay and silence prevailed in consequence in the enemy’s camp.

And the tents were all silent,—the banners unflown,—
The lances unlifted,—the trumpet unblown.
My lectures were delivered in February, 1882. The Rev. Mr. Storrs Turner attended them and corresponded with me upon the subject. In those lectures I criticized his book and pointed out its misleading features and inaccuracies; but, recognizing the force of Sir John Falstaff’s maxim, that “the better part of valour is discretion,” he never attempted to controvert my case, nor justify himself or the Anti-Opium Society, who for so many years had made such noise in the world. It was only in October, 1882,—eight months after my lectures had been delivered,—after an article appeared in the London and China Telegraph, commenting on the collapse of the Anti-Opium Society,—that Mr. Storrs Turner, like Munchausen’s remarkable hunting-horn, gave utterance to a few feeble notes, to the effect that his Society was still alive; for he well knew that all that I[Pg v] had stated in those lectures I could prove to the hilt,—aye, ten times over.

But if Mr. Storrs Turner has declined the contest, an acolyte of his, Mr. B. Broomhall,—who appears to be the Secretary of the Inland China Mission, and one of the “Executive Committee” of the Anti-Opium Society,—comes upon the scene like King Hamlet’s ghost, declaring that he “could a tale unfold, whose lightest breath would harrow up your souls, freeze the hot blood, and make each particular hair to stand on end.” Plagiarising, if not pirating, my title, with a colourable addition of the word “Smoking,” he produces, in November 1882, a compilation entitled “The Truth about Opium-Smoking,” rather a thick pamphlet, made up of excerpts from all the writings and speeches, good, bad, and indifferent, that have been published and delivered within the last thirty years on the Anti-Opium side of the question, with some critical matter of his own, from all of which it appears most conclusively that he, Mr. B. Broomhall, is perfectly innocent of the subject he undertakes to enlighten the world upon. I think I see through this gentleman and his objects pretty well.