objective of the French Revolution,nwhich was based upon atheism, was tondestroy the religious, legal, moral, andnpolitical social order and civilization ofnEurope that Christianity had built upnover many centuries. Moreover, duringnthe last seven years of his life Burkenexpressly denied that his era was anynmore “enlightened” than past ages.nEven when dealing with persons,nO’Brien is a victim of his abstractncategories. He knows that Locke andnBurke were both members of thenChurch of England, both approved ofnthe Revoluhon of 1688, and both arenuniversally classified as Whigs. On thisnbasis he concludes that Burke is andisciple of Locke. But in every one ofnthese religious and political areas therenis overwhelming historical evidencenthat Burke differed profoundly from hisnpredecessor.nBurke was a philosophical dualist,nfor example, and believed in the realitynof both matter and spirit, whereasnLocke was a materialist and monist.nThose who believe Burke was a followernof Locke’s politics ignore their greatndifferences in such matters as the following:ntheir conceptions of the naturenof man; the nature and proper relationshipnof Church and State; the role ofnhistory in society and politics; theirnunderstanding of the English constitutionnand meaning of political sovereignty;nthe distinctions between innovation,nreform, and revolution; thenmeaning of the term “the people”; thenfitness of a form of government to angiven society; the relation of law ornnormative reason to will or power.nThis inventory is by no means exhaustive.nThey also digressed in theirnuse of language, in the meanings theyneach ascribed to such key terms asn”natural law” and “natural rights,” orn”reason” and “rational,” “liberty,”n”equality,” etc. What is perhaps equallynimportant, Burke’s character, temperament,nand personality are a worldnapart from Locke, as is very evident innthe complex prose styles of Burke,nwhich appeal aesthetically to the wholennature of man, in contrast to Locke’snplain, flat, abstract, discursive, and utilitariannprose.nWhen O’Brien unites Burke andnLocke as defenders of Christianity, asnopposed to Voltaire, its declared enemy,nhe is betrayed into error once morenby his wholly unhistorical and loose-n52/CHRONICLESnjointed use of categories. Burke despisednVoltaire’s deism and attacks onnChristianity. But despite his membershipnin the Church of England, Lockenin his religious beliefs is practicallynindistinguishable from Voltaire. SterlingnP. Lamprecht, a noted Lockenscholar, has said: “He stood so close tonthe deists that he has sometimes beennclassified as one of their number.”nLocke’s pupil, the Third Earl ofnShaftesbury, so classified his tutor.nPerhaps O’Brien can explain why itnwas that when Voltaire was in England,nfrom 1726 to 1729, and read Locke’snEssay Concerning Human Understandingn(1691) and The Reasonablenessnof Christianity (1695), he saidnthat he “abandoned Ovid for Locke,”ncalled him “Le Sage Locke,” pronouncednhim the wisest of philosophers,nand recorded in his Notebookn(item 45), “Mr. Locke’s reasonablenessnof the Christian religion is really annew religion,” and in his unboundednadmiration became a lifelong devotednchampion of Locke’s philosophy andnreligion? Upon his return to France,nVoltaire made frequent use of Locke’snreligious ideas in his propagandanagainst Christianity, quoting him copiouslynin his Letters Concerning thenEnglish Nation and in his revolutionarynLettres philosophiques.nBolingbroke, whose deism Burkensatirized so intensely, was the friendnand correspondent of Voltaire, and wasnas captivated by Locke’s Essay as hisnFrench friend. Bolingbroke acknowledgednthat through Locke he was led tondeism. Were Voltaire and the Englishnand French deists wrong in claimingnLocke as their teacher? Or doesnO’Brien err in uniting Locke withnBurke against Voltaire?nThe main difference between Lockenand Voltaire lies not in their substantivenreligious beliefs but in their temperamentnand method. Voltaire perceivednthat Locke’s “new religion,” instead ofndestroying Christianity from withoutnthe Church, as Voltaire wished to do,nwould emasculate it from within.nIn The Reasonableness of Christianity,nLocke’s most radical and polemicalnwork, he wrote as a “minimalist”nand pleaded in good conscience as anbelieving Christian, a rational defendernof revelation, and a loyal Anglican thatnthe Church of England should reformnitself in order to attract members fromnnnthe Dissenters. How? Locke advocatednthat it should reject its hierarchicalnstructure and the authority of its bishops,nabandon its canon law and theology,nits creed and sacraments, its liturgy,nall belief in mysteries and miracles, allnexternal discipline, the Thirty-NinenArticles and Book of Common Prayer,nall its religious customs and traditionsn— in short, its entire historical inheritance—nas so many superstitions andn”prejudices,” in favor of one requirementnfor membership and salvation —nto acknowledge that Christ is the Messiah.nIn the last section of his Essay,nLocke stated the central principle ofndeism: “Reason must be our last judgenand guide in everything.”nWhat Locke viewed as religion hisnAnglican contemporaries perceived asnirreligion. The ideas in his two booksnwere attacked by a whole host of Anglicans,nincluding Bishop Edward Stillingfleetnand Jonathan Swift. He wasncharged with everything from renewingnthe atheism and materialism ofnHobbes to Socinianism, Unitarianism,nand deism, the very things for whichnEnglish freethinkers and Voltairenhailed him.nUnlike Locke, Burke accepted thenChurch of England just as it was, withnall of its virtues and weaknesses. Henadhered to the Church out of personalnconvictions and real affection. Moreover,nhe regarded the Church withnpiety, as an important branch of Christianity,nand a vital part of “the chainnthat connects the ages of a nation”nwith “the great mysterious incorporationnof the human race,” because religionnwas “one of the bonds of humannsociety,” and “its object [was] the supremengood, the ultimate end andnobject of man himself.”nBurke was certainly aware of thengreat gap between himself and Lockenin religious toleration. Burke’s beliefnthat “toleration was good for all, or itnwas good for none,” made him bothnpreach and practice universal religiousntoleration. In 1781, for example, whennhe learned that some Hindu Brahminsnin London could not find the propernmeans of practicing the rituals of theirnfaith, and had become the objects ofnderision of some rationalist freethinkersnand wits, Burke placed his home atntheir disposal.nBurke knew that what passed forncreedal toleration was often merelyn