In its fundamental principles, however, it is alluringly simple.
In the first place, the Japanese language is pleasingly destitute of personal pronouns.

Not only is the obnoxious "I" conspicuous only by its absence; the objectionable antagonistic "you" is also entirely suppressed, while the intrusive "he" is evidently too much of a third person to be wanted.

Such invidious distinctions of identity apparently never thrust their presence upon the simple early Tartar minds.

I, you, and he, not being differences due to nature, demanded, to their thinking, no recognition of man.
There is about this vagueness of expression a freedom not without its charm.

It is certainly delightful to be able to speak of yourself as if you were somebody else, choosing mentally for the occasion any one you may happen to fancy, or, it you prefer, the possibility of soaring boldly forth into the realms of the unconditioned.
To us, at first sight, however, such a lack of specification appears wofully incompatible with any intelligible transmission of ideas.