The inspection of the dreadful den in which the opium-smokers were to be seen suggested to my mind a train of thought in connection with the traffic which I would not willingly have communicated to my American friends. It will seem incredible some day to the awakened conscience of the nation that we should have ever sanctioned such a frightful crime as the opium traffic. "It only poisons about two millions of people," is the excuse, "and brings in one-sixth of the whole revenue of India." If ever it were justifiable to utter the exclamation "Perish India!" it would be, I believe, in regard to that disgraceful source of revenue, and the necessity that is imposed upon us, as it is alleged, to raise it, in order to maintain the government of our Indian empire. Here in San Francisco the State has nothing to do with the sale of the poison, and it is very questionable whether the police regulations should not be applied to it, just as they are to persons who have tried to commit suicide, or to the inebriates in public-houses, or to places where intemperance is carried on to an extent injurious to the public peace. Death is the inevitable result of continued indulgence in opium-smoking, although it is true that in some cases the victim lingers on a few years, utterly indifferent to all the business of life except the one--the means of supplying himself with his only source of enjoyment. I was in one of the shops where they sell the drug, and was much struck by the cadaverous, sunken faces of the unfortunate customers, with bright dreamy eyes, trembling limbs, and wasted bodies, who came in to buy it. It is cheap enough, in all conscience, as a very small quantity suffices to produce what is called "the desired effect"; but for its bulk it is exceedingly dear, and indulgence in it must consume a considerable amount of the earnings of the best-paid artisans when they are no longer able to earn sufficient to keep them with a full supply. "Then," as our informant says, "they will commit any crime to get it."