give rise to certain bonds of reciprocal attachment. An increasing solidarity would appear when the tribes ceased to be nomadic, showing itself in a strong attachment to companions in arms, to familiar objects, and to the natal soil. And with the origin of the family would begin the growth of the altruistic sentiments and their corresponding virtues.
Ethical theorists define their object as the search for the true good or the true law. But a good or a law are things determining volition and action; a truth is simply a matter of intellectual affirmation. How can a good be true? This paradox at the basis of ethics is emphasized by the conclusion of modern psychology that the dynamic functions of mental life cannot be reduced to judgments. Abstractly and historically, we have a solution in the identification of morality and truth. But this definition is arbitrary and does not correspond with morality as an empirically given fact in human life. Morality should be defined, by universal experience, as an affective and social, not an intellectual function. It may be asked: How are the ideals of such a morality sanctioned for the will of the individual? Here we consider only one side of this problem, viz.: What gives its value to veracity? This virtue seems to lie midway between our two opposing conceptions of morality; it is, on the one side, intellectual; on the other and external side, social. There are two forms of veracity as a social virtue, one entirely practical, regarding actions rather than thoughts; and another social in its nature, but intellectual in its matter,—the scruple to make ourselves instruments of error. We believe that this intellectual form of veracity is latest to appear in conscience, and that this late appearance shows that morality is not an extension of veracity, as intellectualism holds, but veracity a prolongation in the intellect of a morality having its foundation elsewhere. In a complete study of veracity, we would begin with the primitive forms of active deception in animals and men, often automatic, due to vanity or the instinct of self-preservation, etc.; then would follow the 'conventional lies' of social life. Obviously the immorality here, if any, is slight; the origin of deceit is necessary and natural, and its development step by step with the other relations of life makes sincerity difficult. Only with the cessation of the struggle for life is sincerity perfectly possible. Beyond these primitive forms of deceit, we have 'contractual' veracity—to 'keep one's word,' 'be what one seems to be'; this is the central form under which veracity is recognized as a virtue, and it is obviously a form of active probity rather than of intellectual truthfulness. How then does intellectual veracity develop and acquire a moral value? It is relatively late, for early intellectual activity is relatively restricted and individual, and such veracity is more than a simple prolongation of reason and knowledge. It implies a conception of truth and knowledge as social goods to which have a claim, and that this appears late is shown by the distinction of cor-
