Burton spares him little time. Faith is due to an accident of birth; the faith that men normally know is a product of their environment. The author again pits one religionist against another; the Hindu despising the Frank; the Muslim crying about polytheism; the Buddhist calling the Confucian a dog; the Tartar claiming that attention to a future state is betraying the efficiency and duties of man in the world. And the Sufi chimes in: ‘You all are right, you all are wrong,’ we hear the careless Sufi say, ‘For each believes his glimm’ring lamp to be the gorgeous light of day.’
