Plato is among those who most emphatically deny that Pleasure is either the motive force, the accompaniment, the consequence, or the aim of Morality. But a reasonable thinker can derive no profit from his arguments in support of this point of view, for they are rambling, fantastic, mystical and visionary. Plato thinks it a necessary consequence of the very nature of Good that it should be absolutely self-sufficient. For Pleasure is a perpetual growth, a ceaseless longing for more; it can therefore not be self-sufficient, and on this account can not be the foundation of Morality.

However, it is by no means obvious why Morality should not be in a perpetual state of growth (just as Pleasure is, according to Plato), or why it should not constantly desire an increase of its own activities. On the contrary, this craving is just what one would most wish Morality to have. True, it would not then attain self-satisfaction. But what is the good of this self-satisfaction? It is a pleasurable emotion, and according to Plato Morality is supposed to have nothing in common with Pleasure. It is not to be contentment and serene satisfaction, but rather tireless endeavour. However, Plato, of course, cannot admit this, because for him Good and the deity are identical, and being perfect can therefore advance no farther in perfection; and the striving after Good is merely an effort of memory on man's part to call to mind more clearly the deity whom he saw in his spiritual life before birth, and of whom he retains a dim and confused memory in his earthly life. It is plainly idle to waste reasonable criticism upon such visionary arguments.

The Stoics, too, try to sever the connexion between moral conduct and Pleasure, and to conceive the former as a simple activity of human nature, one, moreover, from which they expect no particular satisfaction. They overlook the fact that every activity of the impulses and instincts of man's own nature affords him satisfaction, and that Pleasure is nothing but this very satisfaction of natural instincts. If, then, Morality were, as the Stoics contend, only "Life in harmony with Nature herself," then, like every other satisfaction of natural desires, it should be an ever-flowing source of pleasurable emotions, and this characteristic would be inseparable from it, though the Stoics may vainly try to deny it.

Christianity has an easier job than Stoicism. With harsh severity, disregarding any plea for indulgence in view of the weakness of the flesh, it absolutely excludes the factor of pleasure from the fulfilment of moral duties. But this severity is only apparent. The good and just man can expect no reward for his moral conduct here on earth, but he will find a much more ample one in the life to come. To the devout believer who gives unlimited credit to it, the promise of the joys of paradise has the full value of a cash disbursement. It is somewhat childish juggling with words to deny pleasurable emotion to be the aim of moral conduct if at the same time a most vivid foretaste of the eternal bliss which awaits him after death be given to the virtuous man; as if the anticipation of heavenly bliss were not a pleasurable emotion of the highest degree!

Kant finds it due to his point of view to spurn every weak inclination to Eudæmonism. A Categorical Imperative cannot issue commands with an eye to profit or comfort. That is as clear as daylight. "All Morality of action must be founded on the necessity which arises from duty and respect for the law, and not from love or inclination for the desired result of the action." Schopenhauer, Feuerbach, and John Stuart Mill have recorded such irrefutable criticisms of the Kantian doctrine of the absolute disinterestedness of moral action, that it is unnecessary to add to their arguments.

Only some moral philosophers, and particularly Mill, are guilty of logical inaccuracy when they reject Eudæmonism but retain Utility as the aim of morality. Why do the Utilitarians not realize that they are merely Eudæmonists under another name, and that he who disregards his own immediate interests in order to further the well-being of the community experiences a pleasurable emotion of high order in the satisfaction he derives from the sacrifices whereby he has contributed to the good of the community?

The useless exertions of a section of moral philosophers to eliminate not only Hedonism but also Eudæmonism from moral action are a veritable labour of Sisyphus. Hardly have these two with difficulty been expelled by the door than they return by the window or the chimney. It is a mere conjuring trick to remove them from this world to the next, as do the theologians, or to substitute universal well-being for the feeling of happiness. All the same, the desire to purge moral action of the least admixture of hope of profit or pleasure is comprehensible. Common experience, which is equally forced upon the profound thinker and upon the plain man in the street least inclined to cudgel his brain, teaches us that Morality consists, with very few exceptions, in acting against our own immediate interest, in denying ourselves some coveted pleasure, in renouncing some attainable profit, in undertaking some disagreeable exertion because Reason bids us do so. From this practical experience the man in the street gets the impression that duty is a bitter necessity and that decency is attended by many and varied inconveniences. The theorist, the philosopher, derives a principle from his empirical facts; he observes that the moral man often acts against his own immediate interests, and expresses this in the pretentious axiom: "Morality from the very beginning excludes all thought of profit."

And yet the philosophers are guilty of the same superficiality as the man in the street. They do not go far enough into the matter to perceive that the morality of pleasure, of interest, and of duty, Hedonism, Utilitarianism and the Categorical Imperative, all lead in very slightly different ways to the same goal—Eudæmonism. The fulfilment of duty affords spiritual satisfaction, a pre-eminently pleasurable emotion which increases in direct proportion to the effort which its fulfilment demands. Interest also implies pleasure, for every interest ultimately comes to this, that it is an attempt to secure a pleasure. This aim lies at the bottom of all interests; it is the fundamental interest from which all seemingly different interests are derived; it is the universal goal to which all human effort tends, whether it be a question of making money to satisfy ambition, of winning love and friendship, of material, spiritual, personal or social values. Interest is self-assertion and the intensifying of the zest for life. But these are always accompanied by pleasurable emotions; thus interest is forthwith identified with pleasurable emotion, even though one has to work hard, even though at the moment it entails drudgery and discomfort. Hedonism makes no secret of its nature and its tendency. It openly admits what the Categorical Imperative denies and what Utilitarianism veils with vague phrases: that the aim and object of moral action is Pleasure and nothing else.

In our short survey of the immense field of literature dealing with moral philosophy we have learnt that, although the most various and divergent views are expressed as to the essence and source of Morality, nevertheless there is but one opinion, be it clearly or vaguely stated, be it the result of knowledge or surmise, as to the mechanism by means of which moral concepts determine action, and as to the conscious or unconscious aim of moral action: Moral concepts do their work by means of inhibition, and the aim of moral action is a feeling of happiness.