MORPHIA TEA PARTIES

New Zealand Mail, 29 January 1902, Page 29

MORPHIA TEA PARTIES

(‘‘Cassell’s Saturday Journal.”)

As a supposed cure for the “blues,” a ’ never-failing panacea for every form of depression, morphia, one of the most deadly of drugs, is unfortunately increasing in popularity by leaps and bounds. The parties in which this dangerous poison figures so prominently have only lately come into fashion — they originated in Paris, by-the-bye—-but the amount of injury and misery that they are responsible for is already beyond all reckoning. Wha't happens is this:—A number of ladies who, owing to the similarity of their individual tastes and weaknesses, are in sympathy with each other, form themselves into what may be termed a morphia club. They meet at about four o’clock every afternoon, ostensibly to enjoy nothing more harmful than tea, the members providing the ghastly entertainment in turn. Tea is certainly consumed, but only to avoid suspicion on the part of the domestics, for as the repast progresses the hostess produces a tiny syringe containing morphia. The appearance of this little instrument, which has been eagerly waited for by the whole company, is the signal for the guests to lay bare their arms. This they do hurriedly enough, anxious not to lose a moment, so intense is the craving to put themselves under the influence of the poison. The hostess then goes the round of her visitors, giving each an .injection. Very frequently a guest is not satisfied with one injection. She has accustomed herself to the drug, and a small dose lias not appreciable effect on her. She cries for three injections. She gets them if her hostess is devoid of sense, as she generally is, and thus drives another nail into her coffin.. The women who resort to this proceeding belong •to that numerous body who, bereft of self-control and fea-ther-brained to a degree, cannot live without excitement and who thirst for new sensations. They attend the morphia, tea-party to drive away—as they foolishly think—melancholy. Without the morphia tea-party they would not care to exist. Life to them is an insufferable bore.

In a very short time the poison does its work. The woman who was depressed and dull-eyed when she entered the room is full of life and gaiety; she talks wittily, even brilliantly ;'her eyes are bright; her cheeks, but a moment before ghastly white, are flushed; her whole countenance is animated. But what a price she pays for this change! Submitting herself to the influence of morphia at these parties as she does every day, the drug, when administered in fairly large quantities, quickly loses the desired effect, and the wretched being must have more. Three injections once a day are not enough for her; she injects the fluid, morning, ‘afternoon and evening. To get the poison she will sacrifice everything—her dearest possessions, her money, her jewels, her all, in fact. The result is disastrous. The poison obtains a complete mastery over her—she can no more resist it than she can fly to the moon. The inevitable consequence is that she dies an early death, wrecked both in mind and body. Nothing is more frightful than the sight of one of these women when she is denied her favourite drug. Filled with despair, she is-capable, if not watched, of destroying herself at any moment. In her rage she will tear her hair and scream as no madman could scream.