The object of the Zen teachers, as of some eccentric schoolmasters whom I have known, seems at first sight to have been merely to puzzle and surprise their pupils to the highest possible degree. A peculiar “brusquerie” was developed in Zen monasteries. The literature of the sect consists chiefly in an endless series of anecdotes recording the minutest happenings in the lives of famous Zen monks and their (apparently) most trivial sayings. But behind these trifling acts and sayings a deep meaning lay hid. The interpretation of such teaching depends on a complete knowledge of the symbolism used. I am not inclined to agree with those students of Zen who assert that its written teaching are wholly devoid of intellectual content or so completely esoteric as not to admit of explanation in words. Like other Buddhist philosophers the Zen masters were chiefly concerned with the attempt to define the relation between the One and the Many, between the subjective and objective aspects of life. The idealism of Zen does not mean that the phenomenal world has no importance. To those who have not reached complete self-realisation the urgencies of that world remain paramount and are the only stepping-stones upon which he can climb higher. On the day of his arrival at the monastery a novice presented himself before the abbot, begging to be allowed to begin his spiritual exercises without further delay. “Have you had supper?” asked the abbot. “Yes.” “Then go and wash your plate.” THE ZEN MASTERS. Let us begin with Enō, a master of the seventh century. He lost his parents when he was young and earned his living by gathering firewood. One day when he was in the market-place he heard some one reading the Diamond Sūtra.[6] He asked where such books were to be had and was told “From Master Kōnin on the Yellow Plum-blossom Hill.” Accordingly he went to Kōnin’s Monastery in Anhui and presented himself before the Master. “Where do you come from?” “From the South.” “Bah! In the South they have not Buddha in their souls.” “North and South,” replied Enō, “are human distinctions that Buddha knows nothing of.” [6] Translated by W. Gemmell, 1912. Its use by Kōnin shows that Zen did not long avoid the use of scriptures. Kōnin accepted him as a lay-brother and put him to pound rice in the bakery. Kōnin was growing old and wished to choose his successor. He therefore instituted a poetical competition in which each monk was to epitomise in a quatrain the essence of Zen. The favourite candidate was the warden Shinshū, who sent in the following verses: _The body is the trunk of the Bodhi-tree; The mind is the bright mirror’s stand; Scrub your mirror continually, Lest the dust eclipse its brightness._