Molière worked within the context of a powerful literary establishment, with complex systems of rewards and punishments. Sources of financial support were essential for an author and generally sought from patronage or from the church; institutional prestige might be conferred by election to the Académie Française. Patronage, always potentially unreliable, became increasingly dominated by the King and court and entailed considerable obligations, while the church could prove a formidable enemy. Such sources of patronage and prestige were complemented by a dynamic literary scene, in which reputations could be made or lost: through the salons, both the relatively more social and the more specifically scholarly; and through the critics, with again some writing for a more popular readership and some drawn from among the learned scholars. For a dramatist, popular success was a crucial factor. Molière encountered repeated difficulties, from the withdrawal of patronage, the hostility of the church, and attacks by critics and jealous rivals. He surmounted these with extraordinary success, through a unique combination of factors: great popular success in Paris, the breadth of his appeal, the support of the King and court, the admiration of powerful critical voices and, not least, the influential approval of distinguished scholarly commentators.

The Qurʾan, and the problems of its interpretation, is even more central to Islamic political culture than is the Bible to the Latin west and Byzantium. It became accepted in the mid-ninth century that interpretation of the law and many case rulings should be the preserve of the ʿulamaʾ. So although the caliph was revered as the guardian of the faith and supreme leader, his rule was not engrained in the courts of law and the maintenance of property rights and inheritance in the manner of western or Byzantine rulers. This partly accounts for the relatively poor survival rate of archival holdings. Yet narratives and prescriptive texts can shed light on actual practices and help chart change over time, from the caliphate’s imperial palaces to the predominance of Turco-Mongol warlords in the later middle ages. Evidence is particularly full for the Ilkhan rulers of Iran and those of Egypt and Transoxania. Their entourages brought new ideas and practices to Islamic political culture without abandoning core elements of Islamic ideology. The Ottomans’ conquest of Asia Minor and, above all, of Constantinople created the most enduring blend of Islamic traditions and new modes of rulership.

This chapter describes the various kinds of scribes, their societal status and organization, as distinguished by different terms in the Hittite texts: regular scribes, so-called wood-scribes, chief scribes, apprentices, elite scribes, and scholars. The latter would sometimes show off their learned status by deliberately using archaic sign shapes and rare expressions. To them are also ascribed the tablet catalogs or tablet inventories. These scholar-scribes seem to have engaged with the texts by memorizing them.

The next two chapters examine changes in the honor-shame discourse in the Warring States period (ca. 500 – 220 BCE), when larger, territorial states replaced the warrior aristocracy with bureaucratic administrators and peasant soldiers. Re-structuring Warring States society entailed forming new groups through elective ties of comradeship or discipleship and of devotion to political superiors. The honor/shame complex defined all these ties. This chapter traces the development of ideas about honor outside of ascribed status and the formal state order. These ideas were articulated by the earliest Chinese critical thinkers, who formed around the figure of Confucius. Defining themselves against conventional values, they claimed honor derived from devotion to study and virtues. They also argued that what others regarded as shameful, low status or poverty, could demonstrate a higher honor that refused to curry favor or pursue wealth. Although they sought rulers’ patronage, and offered them advice, they rejected serving those who refused the virtues they espoused, thus proving their true honor. Several rulers granted such men titles and stipends that did not entail government service. Finally, claims to honor in this period marked the emergence of networks of patrons and clients, as well as those formed by bravoes.

This chapter discusses George Grove’s success in his choice of staff and the quality of his leadership in knitting together the wide range of musical characters and personalities into a cohesive educational body. There are some vignettes of the early staff, illustrated by a photograph which vividly captures them at the laying of the foundation stone of the new building in 1890. Grove’s letters to his confidante, Edith Oldham, capture some of the personalities and the day-to-day strains of their working together, and these are quoted to give a more realistic sense of the College in its early days than has been given before. The second part of the chapter looks at why Parry was chosen as the College’s second Director and looks at his musical and strategic limitations. Parry’s bitter feuding with Stanford – a defining characteristic of his time as Director – is examined. The chapter shows that Stanford (not Parry) was the RCM’s musical director and explains how this greatly benefitted the College, and that the need for this dual leadership was recognized by the RCM Council.

This chapter places studentship at the College (1883–1913) within the national tertiary education context, and discusses the significant cost to individuals. It looks at the gender make-up of the student body in relation to the restrictions placed on what it was then considered appropriate for female students to learn. It considers issues of class that also helped determine student expectations. It explains that RCM scholarships were significant in bringing wind and brass students to the College (with a study profile of RCM scholars), and looks at some of the scholars who benefitted with more detailed discussion of Clara Butt, Charles Wood and George Dyson. The discussion of fee-paying students explains just why an RCM education represented a good investment in return for the fees paid. The fact that in this period there was no entry exam prompts the question of what the standard actually was, and a detailed analysis of a student sample argues that (with few exceptions) the student body was of an appropriate standard to benefit from professional training.