Second opinion

FROM time to time I receive letters asking me why I have nothing good to say about the human race, Don't I ever have those inspiring little moments, my conespondents ask me, when life seems, despite everything, to be almost worth living? In short, why can't I cheer up a bit?

Of course, I do sometimes see instances of man's better, nobler qualities. Only last week, for example, I saw a man in the prison who combined heroism with capacity for friendship. He looked rather morose when he entered my room, and was at first disinclined to talk.

'What's the matter?' I asked.

'It's taking me down with it,' he replied.

I inquired what the 'it' of his statement was, exactly.

The situation.'

And what, I asked, was the situation? 'This charge.'

Which was?

'Attempted murder.'

Of whom?

'He's supposed to be my best mate — or at least I thought he was.'

This, of course, was until he presented himself as the potential recipient of 20 stab wounds, from which he was still recovering slowly in hospital. I asked about the circumstances.

'I was out of my skull on crack and alcohol.' 'What were you drinking?'

'Cider.'

'The 8 per cent?'

No, the 6 per cent. I thought it would be all right.'

'And what happened then?'

'You've got to understand the circumstances.'

'Tell me.'

Apparently, another friend — his second best mate — had beaten him up very badly three days before the incident.

'Why?' I asked.

'Because he stole my missus from me.' 'Wasn't he satisfied with her?'

'I kept threatening him. I kept telling him I was going to kill him,' 'And so what did he do?'

'He came round with a baseball bat and gave me a bloody good hiding. He nearly ripped my ear off, an' all.'

Had he, then, nearly killed his best mate in revenge for what his second best mate had done, on the kick-the-cat principle?

'No, we was drunk together, both out of our skulls, We'd done a line or two as well. We started arguing.'

'What about?' 'He'd watched me being beat up, but he didn't do nothing to help. He just stood there.'

'I see.'

`So I asked him why he didn't do noth ing, and one thing led to another.'

'And so you stabbed him?'

'Yes.'

Did you have a knife on you?'

`So you went to fetch one?'

'We was in the kitchen. It was a kitchen knife.'

'And are you going to plead guilty?'

'No. I never meant to kill him. I mean, I'm the one what saved him by getting the ambulance.'

0 Royal Humane Society, where are thy medals? What can be more ennobling than the story of a man who saves his best mate from certain death?

We talked about his drinking and his drug-taking. It turned out that he had been in prison many times before, always for offences committed under the influence of something or other.

'Didn't you think that you ought to stop?'

'Oh yes, doctor, many times. The problem is, though, that sometimes your head starts playing games with you, and then your mind controls you.'

Theodore Dalrymple