A PROTOTYPE OF THE MIGNONETTE TRAGEDY.

Evening Post, Volume XXIX, Issue 61, 14 March 1885, Page 1 (Supplement)

A PROTOTYPE OF THE MIGNONETTE TRAGEDY.

During the excitement m England caused by the horrible story of the Mignonettee affair, the Times reprinted the " Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym," by the imaginative author Edgar Allan Pee, and it seems to be a picture of what is deposed in a court of justice to have happened in the case of the crew of the Mignonette Pym and others are dying of starvation in a castaway boat ; and at last the crisis comes, and the dread question is put, which of them shall die to save the rest from death. Poe's deecription is worth reproducing in order to help to a realisation of the feelings dominating men at such a juncture. "Delay was no longer possible, and with a heart almost bursting from my bosom I advanced to the region of the forecastle, where my companions were awaiting me. I held out my hand with the splinters, •md Peters immediately drew. He was free — his at least was not the shortest ; and there was now another chance against my escape. I summoned up all my strength, and passed the lots to Augustus. He also drew immediately, and he also was free ; and now, whether I should live or die, the chances were no more than precisely even. At this moment ail the fierceness of the tiger possessed my bosom, and I felt towards my poor fellow-creature the most intense, the most diabolical hatred. But the feeling did not last; and at length with a convulsive shudder and closed eyes, I held out the two remaining splinters towards him. It was full five minute before he could summon resolution to draw, during which period of heart-rending suspense I never once opened my eyes. Presently one of the two lots was quickly drawn from my hand. The decision was then over, yet I knew not whether it was for me or against me. No one spoke, and still I dared not satisfy myself by looking at the splinter I held. Peters at length took me by the hand, and I forced myself to look up, when I immediately saw by the countenance of Richard Parker that I was safe, and that it was he who had been doomed to suffer. Gasping for breath, I fell senseless to the deck. I recovered from my swoon in time to behold the consummation of the tragedy in the

death of him who had been chiefly instrumental in bringing it about. He made no resistance whatever, and was stabbed in the back by Peters, when he fell instautly dead." It is a singular coincidence that in the story and the grim reality now concluded the names of the victims should be the same — Parker.