steeped in Chinese narrow-minded reasonings, and so become blind to the wondrous and profound principle of the true way."
Towards Buddhism his antagonism is less pronounced. He acknowledges elements of good in it, and for Laotze he confesses to a certain measure of sympathy, prompted no doubt by the circumstance that the doctrines of this philosopher are irreconcilable with the teachings of the Sung schoolmen. On the question of the immortality of the soul he formally declines to give an opinion.
Motoöri's religion is frankly anthropomorphic, as indeed it could hardly fail to be if he attached any credence to the statements in the Kojiki. He says in so many words that the Shinto deities had hands and legs. When pressed with the obvious inconsistencies which are involved in this belief, Motoöri has nothing better to say than they are "a proof of the authenticity of the record, for who would have gone out of his way to invent a story so ridiculous and improbable, if it were not true. [Credo quia impossibile.] The acts of the gods are not to be explained by ordinary principles. Man's intelligence is limited, and there are many things which transcend it."
Not the least of Motoöri's achievements was his creation of a new literary dialect. It is true that his style was more or less modelled on that of his teacher Mabuchi. But the latter was content to use the pure Japanese language, or Wabun, as it is called, just as he found it. Stiff and antiquated, it was by no means an apt instrument for the expression of modern ideas. In Motoöri's hands it became flexible, picturesque, and expressive. All foreign students have felt the charm of his lucid and flowing style. But it is marred by one terrible fault,
