Human needs and the wants which arise from them tell only one side of the story of the origin of institutions; there is another side as well. These two sides are the same two phases of social organization which have been noticed in preceding chapters - the rational and intellective versus the instinctive and affective. We join institutions not alone to satisfy needs which we could enumerate, but also to gratify vague impulses within us of which we may be only dimly aware - the gregarious instinct, the instinct to achieve, to use to the full whatever powers we have. The woman who is able to direct a large chorus organizes a glee club and makes it a permanent organization. The man who is able to lead boys naturally enough wants to organize a patrol of Boy Scouts, be principal of an elementary school, or employ boys in his factory. The man who is a capable administrator will find some need which people can satisfy better by working collectively than singly: he may have no philanthropic regard for their needs, he simply wants the fun of doing the administering. Likewise with any of the special kinds of work which are necessary to the maintenance of an institution. There are the needs, and there are the impulses to action: this twofold stimulus is back of it all.

In what has just been said there is no implication that the impulses by some magic exactly meet the needs. Impulse often prompts to harmful rather than useful action, and on the other side there is much work to be done for which workers can be had in sufficient numbers only under compulsion or for compensation. But obviously an institution would be at its best on condition that each kind of work which it requires is performed by someone who would rather do that work than play.

Another factor, still, is the approval of other persons which everyone wants as evidence that his work is successful and because that approval is gratifying in itself. He must win a place for himself in their esteem. Any work acquires dignity, no matter how humble or obscure, if it is a part of some great enterprise to serve the needs of many people.

. . . There are endless situations which a man cannot meet or solve alone, but can master with the aid of others. The social quality which results from such collective enterprise is a sympathetic zest in acting as one of a group; it is a "team play" feeling. . . . - Jastrow, Character and Temperament, p. 206.

Closely related with this instinct of personal integrity, and intimately involved in its realization, is a social claim which may be called, in the absence of a better term, the craving for reciprocal valuation. . . . The society in which the individual might most completely achieve himself would be in part a mutual-admiration society. ... - Small, General Sociology, p. 461.

. . . Losing himself in the team is an experience not of self-sacrifice, but of self-fulfilment. It is the breaking of a band, expansion to a larger personality. The boy in the great team games comes into his birthright as a member.

. . . The power of creative assertion is at its greatest in the making of a social whole. The leader is not merely a glorified individual, he is a functionary, an official, - true priest to the spirit of the team, or army, or nation, he represents, - mid-wife to the latent loyalty of his followers, servant of all in the highest service man can render to his fellow men.

. . . Specialization contributes to the fullness of membership because through it the team makes its full claim on the individual. In intrusting him with one especial service, it stakes its success upon his adequacy, subjects him to the full current of its purpose. If shortstop does not field the ball when it comes his way, if first base does not catch it when it is thrown to him, it will not get fielded or will not be caught. In his own especial office each player is the team, all there is of it at that point.

... To feel that you have a particular thing to do in the service of your cause that no other can accomplish - that you are, in that one thing, however humble, a live wire of the common purpose - is the way of initiation to full membership. And it is the only way. Unless you are, in very truth, needed for its accomplishment, the stress of the common purpose will not run through you. Responsibility is the great word in education: the miracle is not performed through work that can be neglected with impunity.

. . . We make cities and states and nations not because we find them useful in our business, not because they help us to accomplish our economic or other ulterior ends, but because we were born that way. . . . Given the power, and the resulting institutions, we do indeed promote and modify these for utilitarian reasons; and we often believe that these sensible second thoughts are our real motives for combining - just as the gang finds many wonderful excuses for its existence. But these are never the real motives. The instinct that makes all laws and social o institutions is the same instinct that has made the gang. It is always in virtue of the belonging instinct that we belong. - Lee, Play in Education, pp. 336, 339, 340, 342, 343, 360, 361.