n shape that girdled her in, she would have
been guilty of no wrong by escaping. But if not, then, however
meritorious it might have been on her part to consent to die for her
countrymen, it was not her duty so to die, nor, consequently, had they a
right to put her to death. She would have been at least negatively right
in refusing to die, while they were guilty of a very positive and a very
grievous wrong in killing her, notwithstanding that both she and they
were perfectly agreed that for her to be killed would be for the
incalculably greater happiness of a greater number, exceeding the lesser
number in the proportion of several hundreds of thousands to one.

It is true that throughout this affair every one concerned was labouring
under a gross delusion--that there was no real use in putting Iphigenia
to death, and that nothing but superstition made anybody suppose there
was. I do not think the case is one less to our purpose on that account,
for Utilitarians, like other fallible mortals, are liable to deceive
themselves. They never can be quite secure of the genuineness of the
utility on which they rely, and in default of positive knowledge they
will always be reduced to act, as the Grecian chiefs did, according to
the best of their convictions. Nevertheless, for the satisfaction of
those who distrust romance and insist upon reality, we will leave fable
for fact, and take as our next illustration an incident that may any day
occur.

Imagine three shipwrecked mariners to have leapt from their sinking
vessel into a cockboat scarce big enough to hold them, and the two
slimmer of the three to have presently discovered that there was little
or no chance of either of them reaching land unless their over-weighted
craft were lightened of their comparatively corpulent companion. Next,
imagine yourself in the fat sailor's place, and then consider whether
you would feel it incumbent on you to submit quietly to be drowned in
order that the residuum of happiness might be greater than if either you
all three went to the bottom, or than if you alone were saved. Would you
not, far from recognising any such moral obligation, hold yourself
morally justified in throwing the other two overboard, if you were
strong enough, and if need were, to prevent their similarly ousting you?
But if it were not your duty to allow yourself to be cast into the sea,
the others could have no right to cast you out; so that, if they did
cast you out, they