Historians have misunderstood the fundamental nature of the English Jesuit mission of 1580–1. Beginning with A.O. Meyer in 1916 and continuing through John Bossy and Christopher Haigh in the 1970s and 1980s, historians have mistakenly characterized this mission as essentially pastoral. They have admired the Jesuit priests for their personal courage in the face of persecution but have simultaneously criticized them for their inability to sustain English catholicism among the laity. But in fact the mission was fundamentally political in nature, and Robert Parsons in particular hoped to use the mission to return England to the catholic fold, by force if necessary. Parsons's designs on Scotland and on James VI in the early 1580s are especially illuminating in this regard. The English mission failed in this its principal goal, and the exact nature of the missioners' failure must be understood for what it was.

There has been disagreement among historians about the nature of the local response to the Diggers in Surrey, and about the relative importance of popular hostility and gentry-led opposition in the defeat of the Digger movement. It is argued here that a distinction must be made between the Diggers' reception in Walton and their treatment in Cobham: popular opposition was much in evidence in Walton, where the Diggers were treated as outsiders, but the response of Cobham's inhabitants was more ambivalent: some of Winstanley's most active fellow Diggers were Cobham inhabitants, and in this parish it was the local gentry who took the lead in the campaign against them. It is argued that the existence of a degree of local support for Winstanley was in part a reflection of Cobham's long tradition of landlord/tenant conflict, of the absence of a settled minister during the 1640s, and of the hardships experienced in the area in the aftermath of civil war.

The causes and consequences of the quarrels between Louis XV and the parlements in the third quarter of the eighteenth century continue to provoke a lively debate amongst historians. In France, the traditional thesis of a reforming monarchy confronted by the selfish obstructionism of the judiciary has many adherents. However, few Anglo-American scholars favour such an interpretation and some have gone as far as to reject the existence of a crisis altogether. Research is also concentrated upon the consequences of these disputes, and their importance to the development not only of parlementaire constitutionalism, but even of a new political culture. In order to contest these conflicting interpretations, this article takes afresh look at the Besançon affair of 1757–1761. In one of the most heated political battles of the reign, thirty judges were exiled from the parlements of Besançon, provoking a lively response from the other parlements, headed by that of Paris. By examining the origins of the dispute in Franche-Comté, and the subsequent reaction of both the government and the Parisian magistrates, this article offers a new picture of the causes of crisis and of how judicial politics actually worked.

M.P.s who supported the Grey, Melbourne, Russell and Palmerston governments were all described as ‘Liberals’ in contemporary registers such as those by Dod and McCalmont. However, historians have recently attempted to differentiate intellectually among these M.P.s, and in particular to sort out the liberals from the whigs. A difficulty here is that, in a period which was almost equally dominated by religious and ecclesiastical issues on the one hand and social and economic issues on the other, it appears that those politicians who were most ‘liberal’ in one context were least ‘liberal’ in the other. The subject of this article, Lord Morpeth, conformed to a type of ‘whig–liberal’ politician whose social policies were ‘whig’ rather than ‘liberal’, but who exemplified that tolerant approach to religious politics which has been termed ‘liberal Anglican’. It is possible to infer Morpeth's theological views from his many comments on sermons and devotional texts, and it appears that the best way to understand his religion (and its impact on his politics) is in terms, not of liberal Anglicanism, but of incarnationalism combined with a type of joyous pre-millenarianism (or jolly apocalypticism) not uncharacteristic of the mid nineteenth century. Reacting against the evangelical and high church revivals, yet sharing their piety and rectitude, Morpeth's incarnational religion represented an attempt to reconcile a theory of individual personality with ideas of community and brotherhood – to soften the ‘spiritual capitalism’ implied by ‘moderate’ Anglican evangelicalism, while retaining its emphasis on individual responsibility. Its secular equivalent was the type of ‘half-way’ social reform espoused by many whig-liberals in the third quarter of the century.

The role of decolonization in the decline of the British empire has received a great deal of attention. In comparison there has been little research or analysis of the process of dedominionization affecting Australia and the other dominions. During the Second World War economic ties were seriously weakened and there were substantial conflicts over economic policy between the British and Australian governments. Australia refused to reduce imports in order to conserve foreign exchange, thus contributing to the United Kingdom's debt burden. The Australian government insisted that the British guarantee Australia's sterling balances and refused to adopt the stringent fiscal policies requested by the Bank of England and the British treasury. Australia also took the opportunity to expand domestic manufacturing industry at the expense of British manufacturers. Economic separation and conflict were complemented by political and strategic differences. In particular, the Australian government realized that British military priorities made it impossible for the United Kingdom to defend Australia. This led the Australians towards a policy of cooperating with the British embargo on Japan, only to the extent that this would be unlikely to provoke Japanese military retaliation. In general, the Australians preferred a policy of compromise in the Far East to one of deterrence preferred by the British.

Professor Ives has demonstrated the weakness of some of the grounds for thinking that Henry VIII's will was tampered with after 30 December 1546. But he has not mentioned Paget's later testimony suggesting that the ‘unfulfilled gifts clause’ was inserted in the will after 12 January 1547. Even if it was part of the will by 30 December, the gifts implemented by its authority resulted from later skilful and ruthless manipulation of the king. Henry's ‘unwritten will’ greatly strengthened Edward Seymour and his allies and gave William Paget, who was largely responsible for its final shape, the means of buying off potential objectors to Seymour's elevation to the protectorship.

Dr Houlbrooke's overall acceptance of the genuineness of Henry VIII's will is welcomed but his hypothesis about the protectorate is qualified, (i) Paget's testimony is shown not to indicate that the ‘gifts clause’ was added to the will after 12 January 1547. (ii) Corrections to the paper which underlies Paget's statement suggest that the distribution of honours under the clause related to Henry's wish to establish the Seymour faction, not to support for the protectorate. (iii) Moves towards the latter were only implemented when Henry's death was imminent, (iv) There is a plausible case to suspect jobbery then and (v) at the stage of the second protectorate, (vi) It is argued that in interpreting Henry's will, we must see (a) faction as intrinsic to court politics and (b) Henry VIII's religious policy as inherently and-traditional.