act of charity or benevolence. Yet of this interval the utilitarian theory
takes no cognizance. The greatest happiness principle strengthens our
sense of positive duties towards others, but weakens our recognition of
their rights. To promote in every way possible the happiness of others may
be a counsel of perfection, but hardly seems to offer any ground for a
theory of obligation. For admitting that our ideas of obligation are
partly derived from religion and custom, yet they seem also to contain
other essential elements which cannot be explained by the tendency of
actions to promote happiness. Whence comes the necessity of them? Why are
some actions rather than others which equally tend to the happiness of
mankind imposed upon us with the authority of law? 'You ought' and 'you
had better' are fundamental distinctions in human thought; and having such
distinctions, why should we seek to efface and unsettle them?

Bentham and Mr. Mill are earnest in maintaining that happiness includes the
happiness of others as well as of ourselves. But what two notions can be
more opposed in many cases than these? Granting that in a perfect state of
the world my own happiness and that of all other men would coincide, in the
imperfect state they often diverge, and I cannot truly bridge over the
difficulty by saying that men will always find pleasure in sacrificing
themselves or in suffering for others. Upon the greatest happiness
principle it is admitted that I am to have a share, and in consistency I
should pursue my own happiness as impartially as that of my neighbour. But
who can decide what proportion should be mine and what his, except on the
principle that I am most likely to be deceived in my own favour, and had
therefore better give the larger share, if not all, to him?

Further, it is admitted that utility and right coincide, not in particular
instances, but in classes of actions. But is it not distracting to the
conscience of a man to be told that in the particular case they are