experience. No reason has ever been shown why they may not be cultivated
to as great intensity in connection with the utilitarian, as with any
other rule of morals.

There is, I am aware, a disposition to believe that a person who sees in
moral obligation a transcendental fact, an objective reality belonging
to the province of "Things in themselves," is likely to be more obedient
to it than one who believes it to be entirely subjective, having its
seat in human consciousness only. But whatever a person's opinion may be
on this point of Ontology, the force he is really urged by is his own
subjective feeling, and is exactly measured by its strength. No one's
belief that Duty is an objective reality is stronger than the belief
that God is so; yet the belief in God, apart from the expectation of
actual reward and punishment, only operates on conduct through, and in
proportion to, the subjective religious feeling. The sanction, so far as
it is disinterested, is always in the mind itself; and the notion,
therefore, of the transcendental moralists must be, that this sanction
will not exist _in_ the mind unless it is believed to have its root out
of the mind; and that if a person is able to say to himself, That which
is restraining me, and which is called my conscience, is only a feeling
in my own mind, he may possibly draw the conclusion that when the
feeling ceases the obligation ceases, and that if he find the feeling
inconvenient, he may disregard it, and endeavour to get rid of it. But
is this danger confined to the utilitarian morality? Does the belief
that moral obligation has its seat outside the mind make the feeling of
it too strong to be got rid of? The fact is so far otherwise, that all
moralists admit and lament the ease with which, in the generality of
minds, conscience can be silenced or stifled. The question, Need I obey
my conscience? is quite as often put to themselves by persons who never
heard of the principle of utility, as by its adherents. Those whose