This article contributes to current debates about the role of religion in governance in the late eighteenth century British Atlantic world by examining the Pitt ministry's policies regarding Catholic subjects in England, Quebec, and Ireland in an early modern context. Starting with an overview of early modern attempts to find a compromise between Catholic subjects and their Protestant rulers, this article shows how the Pitt ministry reused these earlier approaches in its efforts to respond to Catholic subjects during of the age of revolution. Focusing on the English Catholic Relief Act of 1791, the Canada Constitutional Act, and the ministry's unimplemented plans for Catholic emancipation, the article argues that these policies were all shaped in part around the idea that Catholic subjects could be allowed greater freedoms, and even access to political influence in some cases, if their faith was contained through Gallican-style restrictions. These restrictions varied from requiring new oaths to attempting to establish the government's right to select Catholic bishops. Each policy resulted in notably different outcomes based on the location and potential power of the Catholic subjects that they affected. The common goal, however, was to attenuate the Catholics’ connection to the papacy and increase government influence over the Catholic Church in British territory while also upholding the ultimate supremacy of the Anglican Church.

This essay examines the history of the safety razor in nineteenth- and twentieth-century Britain. In so doing, it explores male shaving practices and the male investment in physical appearance in the age of industrial capitalism. In highlighting the history of a single material artifact to showcase the relationship between masculinity, good grooming, personal success, and notions of self-improvement, this essay also underscores the growing influence of American products in British life, the intricacies of the consumer economy, and the increasing sophistication of advertising practices.

This article alleges that two letters attributed to the philosopher David Hume (1711–1776) were forged in the twentieth century. The letters were first published in 1972 and 1973 by Michael Morrisroe, an assistant professor of English in the University of Illinois, Chicago Circle, after which they became monuments of conventional scholarship on Hume's life and writings. Both letters are cited without qualification by scholars of Hume's thought in dozens of publications, including Ernest Campbell Mossner's celebrated Life of David Hume (1980), and John Robertson's entry for Hume in the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (2004). This article reconstructs the history and transmission of Hume's extant letters and attempts to account for why the forgeries published by Morrisroe were accepted as genuine. It makes a systematic case against the authenticity of the letters, and focuses in particular on the question of whether Hume met the Jansenist homme de lettres Noël-Antoine Pluche (1688–1761) and had access to his library, in Reims, in 1734. The article concludes with a discussion of the implications of the exposé for modern editorial scholarship and intellectual history.