Here is a good illustration of the difference between a “miserable pedant” and one who has “passed the bounds.” There was a monk called Gensoku (Hsüan-tsê)[6.78] who was one of the chief officials of the monastery under the Zen master Hōgen (Fa-yen), of the early tenth century. He never came to the master to make inquiries about Zen; so the master one day asked him why he did not come. The chief official answered: “When I was under Seiho (Ch‘ing-fêng) I got an idea as to the truth of Zen.” “What is your understanding then?” demanded the master. “When I asked my master, who was the Buddha, he said, Ping-ting T‘ung-tsŭ comes for fire.” “It is a fine answer,” said Hōgen, “but probably you misunderstand it. Let me see how you take the meaning of it.” “Well,” explained the official, “Ping-ting is the god of fire; when he himself comes for fire, it is like myself, who, being a Buddha from the very beginning, wants to know who the Buddha is. No questioning is then needed as I am already the Buddha himself.” “There!” exclaimed the master, “Just as I thought! You are completely off.” Soku, the chief official, got highly offended because his view was not countenanced and left the monastery. Hōgen said, “If he comes back he may be saved; if not, he is lost.” Soku after going some distance reflected that a master of five hundred monks as Hōgen was would not chide him without cause, and returned to the old master and expressed his desire to be instructed in Zen. Hōgen said, “You ask me and I will answer.” “Who is the Buddha?”—the question came from the lips of the now penitent monk. “Ping-ting T‘ung-tzŭ comes for fire.” This made his eyes open to the truth of Zen quite different from what he formerly understood of it. He was now no more a second-hand “pedant” but a living creative soul. I need not repeat that Zen refuses to be explained but that it is to be lived. Without this, all talk is nothing but an idea, woefully inane and miserably unsatisfactory. Below is another story illustrating the peculiarity of Zen understanding as distinguished from our ordinary intellectual understandings which are based on ideas and representations. The same phrase is repeated here as in the preceding case, and as far as its literal meaning goes, we have no reason to suppose its producing different effects on the mind of the recipient. But as I said elsewhere Zen is the opening of one’s own inner consciousness occasioned by some external incidental happening which may be of purely physical nature but may invoke some mental operation. This opening is therefore something, we as outsiders not belonging to the inner life of the individual concerned, have no means to judge beforehand, we know only when it is opened; but the masters seem to know when this opening is going to take place and how it is to be brought about from their own experience. Students of the psychology of Zen will here find an interesting problem to investigate.