There was reason for this state of things in the religious history of China, and it was this that Zen dispensed with the images and concepts and modes of thinking that were imported from India along with Buddhist thought; and out of its own consciousness Zen created an original literature best adapted to the exposition of the truth of Enlightenment. This literature was unique in many senses, but it was in perfect accordance with the Chinese mental _modus operandi_ and naturally powerfully moved them to the core. Bodhi-Dharma taught his disciples to look directly into the essence of the teaching of the Buddha discarding the outward manners of presentation, he told them not to follow the conceptual and analytical interpretation of the doctrine of Enlightenment. Literary adherents of the Sutras objected to this and did all they could to prevent the growth of the teaching of Dharma. But it grew on in spite of oppositions. The disciples mastered the art of grasping the central fact of Buddhism. When this was accomplished, they proceeded to demonstrate it according to their own methods, using their own terminology, regardless of the traditional or rather imported way of expression. They did not entirely abandon the old manner of speaking; for they refer to Buddha, Tathagata, Nirvana, Bodhi, Trikāya, Karma, transmigration, emancipation, and many other ideas making up the body of Buddhism; but they make no mention of the Twelvefold Chain of Origination, the Fourfold Noble Truth, or the Eightfold Righteous Path. When we read Zen literature without being told of its relation to Buddhism, we may almost fail to recognise in it such things as are generally regarded as specifically Buddhist. When Yakusan (Yüeh-shan, 751–834) saw a monk, he asked,[2.8] “Where do you come from?” “I come from south of the Lake.” “Is the Lake over-flowing with water?” “No, sir, it is not yet overflowing.” “Strange,” said the master, “after so much rain why does it not overflow?” To this last query, the monk failed to give a satisfactory answer, whereupon Ungan (Yün-yen), one of Yakusan’s disciples, said, “Overflowing, indeed!” while Dosan (Tung-shan), another of his disciples, exclaimed, “In what kalpa did it ever fail to overflow?” In these dialogues do we detect any trace of Buddhism? Do they not look as if they were talking about an affair of most ordinary occurrence? But, according to the masters, their talks are brimful of Zen, and Zen literature is indeed abound in such apparent trivialities. In fact, as far as its phraseology and manner of demonstration are concerned, Zen looks as if it had nothing to do with Buddhism, and some critics are almost justified in designating Zen as a Chinese anomaly of Buddhism as was referred to at the beginning of this Essay.