This chapter analyzes a number of municipal decrees and honorary inscriptions from Campania which can be dated to the second century CE. In these texts freed persons receive honors and privileges as a reward for their benefactions towards the community. The phenomenon itself is not surprising, but most acts of generosity by freed persons were done in their capacity as Augustales. In all cases discussed in this chapter the benefactions were done on a voluntary basis after negotiations with representatives of the city’s main political bodies. The most striking aspect of these texts is the language in which the benefactors are praised. They are heralded as role models whose behavior should be imitated by their fellow-citizens and their acts of generosity are praised as contributions to the political landscape. The benefactors provide a service to the community which corresponds to the standing of the city. While these texts may not prove that freed persons at the municipal level were consistently viewed in a positive light, a case can be made that at least some of them were regarded as valued members of the community. This evidence can then be used to broaden our perspective on the integration of freed persons in Roman society.

Older people are one of the biggest populations requiring hospital care, and the demand is expected to rise. There is a compelling need to transform hospital environments to meet older-people physical, psychological, and emotional needs. In the UK, certain hospital circumstances such as ward configuration, mealtimes, noise levels, and visiting hours can be detrimental to patients admitted with delirium and to those living with dementia. In rehabilitation settings, lack of meaningful activities, isolation, and boredom are additional key challenges.

Models of good hospital practice catering for old people exist, both in the UK and internationally, and there is strong evidence for their clinical effectiveness. Environmental strategies to maintain orientation and enhance safety in hospital are crucial for a positive experience. Arts-based programmes in acute care settinsg can improve the experience of a hospital admission.

A cultural shift is warranted to champion the delivery an elderly-friendly service. Creating the right environment requires a hospital-wide system, a ward-based service, and a specially trained clinical team. In this chapter we will present examples of essential ingredients for hospitals and wards, and desirable qualities in clinicians who work in collaboration to deliver the best outcomes for an older population.

The academics studied are more than ivory-ensconced scholars, they are multiskilled and multi-committed to serving their communities, universities, and professions. One means is by integrating research, teaching, and service activities. Research might spark a new book, class, and workshop offering. Scholars especially take their work to the people, writing articles for practitioners and providing presentations and instructional materials for schools. Some serve the field by being journal reviewers or editors. Editorial positions not only serve the field, they help you grow as a scholar, introducing you to new theories, findings, and statistical approaches and exposing you to instructively good and poor writing samples. Surprisingly, several productive scholars served administrative roles at some career point. Most did because they wanted to make their organizations and people better and more productive. All found ways to remain personally productive through collaborations and assuming more back-seat research-directing roles. Still, productive scholars prioritize research over all else and accept that they might be less good at other things. They say one should not aim to be prolific scholars but the best one can be, whether that produces five hundred or fifty publications. Each publication should represent one’s best thinking and be impactful.

This chapter investigates how the idea of ‘service’ narrates the shifting (and sometimes consistent) ways in which actors have been understood on and off the British stage since the Second World War. ‘Service’ is a word often used casually by critics and theatre workers alike, but it contains a multitude of sometimes contradictory meanings, revealing of the peculiar social status of actors in Britain. The chapter argues that the combination of an idealist sense of service, inherited from the nineteenth century stage with the rhetoric of national duty during the war, promoted the increasing professionalisation among actors in Britain since 1945. The idea of the actor as public servant or member of the professional classes was complicated, however, by the longstanding association of actors with bohemianism, producing an ambiguous class identity for the acting profession. It is this class anxiety and ambivalence, complicated by post-war ideas of national service, that is the concern of this chapter. Finally, the chapter proposes that the rhetoric of service and the cultures of bohemianism have functioned as forms of mystification that disavow the actor’s status as a waged worker.

In this chapter, signs of basic services will be given, such as getting hydrated (and duly performing ‘bodily function’), getting connected and having access to funds.

Service is not always a virtue. It can be a drudgery, or an enslavement if not physical or legal, then economic. But Paul inverted this meaning to illustrate the greater commitment of the believer to God, a virtue that levels social divisions and asserts a broader community of faith. This chapter examines the ways that Shakespeare adopts or reshapes Paul’s use of service elevating it as a community virtue where one serves another, often toward no gain for oneself in order to support a greater good. Two plays illustrate this focus of Shakespeare’s, King Lear where service, though more poignant, is more brittle and precarious, and Cymbeline, a play that revels in the necessity of collective service to establish an enduring peace.

Chapter 4 focuses on magicians’ clients. Adopting a similar format to Chapter 3, it begins with a summary of the way clients were portrayed in didactic texts, isolating some key characteristics that were persistently applied. Again, these are unflattering, and the rest of the chapter is dedicated to establishing the extent to which they were accurate. We see that popular portrayals of clients are often more sympathetic, and that, if the court records are anything to go by, the range of people who visited magicians was very diverse. We also find that clients were aware of the negative reputations they might garner, and as such tried either to hide or justify their activities. Finally, we see that clients, especially in the late medieval period, were very aware that they were indeed clients. As such, they carried certain expectations about what they would receive from a magician and were even prepared to seek redress when disappointed. This assertive stance may have become more aggressive as the period progressed and fear crept in over the potential link between witchcraft and other forms of magic. Simultaneously, new legislation outlawing various types of practical magic probably led to a drop in clients seeking formal redress.

The Conclusion, marking the end of our long, rhetorical-dialectical journey with Augustine in The City of God, asks what we have learned, and why it might matter. It reflects on the multifaceted nature of Augustine’s defense of humility – experiential, historical, epistemological, metaphysical, and theological – and on the ways it offers hope for humans amid the challenges of civic life, today as well as in Augustine’s troubled era.

In offering a context for Benjamin Britten, we approached his milieu from vantage points that could adequately represent the fullness of his position in England and in the twentieth century. We were rewarded by the richness of Britten’s engagement with his contemporaries in music, art, literature, and film, British musical institutions, royal and governmental entities, and the church. Equally, his ground-breaking projects that intersected across diverse entities and explored his philosophical and ideological tenets provided food for thought.

In the vast and growing scholarship on today’s service sector, the performing arts play a starring role. But the usefulness of performance for explaining how service fits into a capitalist economy is nothing new. Karl Marx, in his critique of political economy, used theater as proof that services could be subsumed to capital. The fact that service work today is increasingly organized along capitalist lines is not evidence that society has entered a kind of post-capitalism. As Marx himself recognized, service under capitalism has always been potentially subject to the law of value. Yet the clarity of Marx’s argument about the economic relation of services like theater to capital has been obscured by the tendency of Marxist cultural theory to either focus on theater’s role in struggles against capital or misgauge theater’s economic proximity to capital. Theater, thus, has become a missed opportunity in Marxist cultural theory for studying a deindustrial society filled with service jobs. Clarifying theater’s economic relation to capital can illuminate the limits capital faces as the jobs its workers do increasingly resemble performance.

Russia provides the final testing ground for the concept of conditionality. This chapter shows how the limited incidents of representation in sixteenth and seventeenth-century Russia can be explained through the conditional rights to land granted to the lower nobility in order to counter the strength of the upper nobility, the boyars. This makes Russia another case of "second-best-constitutionalism." At that level, it displayed striking similarities to patterns observed in England, leading to the conclusion that the two cases differed not in the institutions that were being created but in the capacity of the state to enforce them. This position is at odds with common conceptions of the Russian tsar as all-powerful, so the chapter offers evidence to counter this assumption. It examines the weak control over the boyars, the limited taxing capabilities, and the mass enserfment of peasants to show how they either reflect or result from state weaknesses. The chapter then describes how these conditions interacted with the emergence of representation in Russia, as well as how they explain its demise.

This chapter assesses the impact of co-rule on the duchess’ political networks, using this external perspective which rarely features in studies of shared power to concretize the contemporary perceptions of joint authority. The stability, composition, and affiliations of two well-documented groups within the administration – the ducal council and the regional officials across Brittany – differentiate Jeanne and Charles’ scope of administration according to both chronological and geographic circumstances. Despite these differences, Jeanne actively worked together with Charles to reward their followers’ loyalty and maintain these political relationships; correspondingly, service to the duchess and duke was largely interchangeable, even for formal relationships such as homage. This relatively level hierarchy further links spousal co-rule to the other power-sharing structures in the medieval aristocracy, which promoted the idea (if not always the practice) of equality between lords.

Win-win thinking at both the national and personal levels