Isshi (1608-1646); in its Taku-an (1573-1645), the favourite tutor of the third Shogun, Iye-mitsu; in its Haku-in (1667-1751), the greatest of the Rin Zai masters of the day, to whose extraordinary personality and labour the revival of the sect is due; and its To-rei (1721-1792), a learned disciple of Haku-in.  Of the important Zen books written by these masters, Ro-ji-tan-kin, by Ten-kei; Men-zan-ko-roku, by Men-zan; Ya-sen-kwan-wa, Soku-ko-roku, Kwai-an-koku-go, Kei-so-doku-zui, by Haku-in; Shu-mon-mu-jin-to-ron, by To-rei, are well known.

It was about the middle of this period that the forty-seven vassals of Ako displayed the spirit of the Samurai by their perseverance, self-sacrifice, and loyalty, taking vengeance on the enemy of their deceased lord.  The leader of these men, the tragic tales of whom can never be told or heard without tears, was Yoshi-o (O-ishi died 1702), a believer of Zen,[FN#99] and his tomb in the cemetery of the temple of Sen-gaku-ji, Tokyo, is daily visited by hundreds of his admirers.  Most of the professional swordsmen forming a class in these days practised Zen.  Mune-nori[FN#100](Ya-gyu), for instance, established his reputation by the combination of Zen and the fencing art.

[FN#99] See “Zen Shu,” No. 151.

[FN#100] He is known as Ta-jima, who practised Zen under Taku-an.

The following story about Boku-den (Tsuka-hara), a great swordsman, fully illustrates this tendency: 

“On a certain occasion Boku-den took a ferry to cross over the Yabase in the province of Omi.  There was among the passengers a Samurai, tall and square-shouldered, apparently an experienced fencer.  He behaved rudely toward the fellow-passengers, and talked so much of his own dexterity in the art that Boku-den, provoked by his brag, broke silence.  ’You seem, my friend, to practise the art in order to conquer the enemy, but I do it in order not to be conquered,’ said Boku-den.  ‘O monk,’ demanded the man, as Boku-den was clad like a Zen monk, ‘what school of swordsmanship do you belong to?’ Well, mine is the Conquering-enemy-without-fighting-school.’  ’Don’t tell a fib, old monk.  If you could conquer the enemy without fighting, what then is your sword for?’ ‘My sword is not to kill, but to save,’ said Boku-den, making use of Zen phrases; ’my art is transmitted from mind to mind.’  ‘Now then, come, monk,’ challenged the man, ’let us see, right at this moment, who is the victor, you or I.’  The gauntlet was picked up without hesitation.  ‘But we must not fight,’ said Boku-den, ’in the ferry, lest the passengers should be hurt.  Yonder a small island you see.  There we shall decide the contest.’  To this proposal the man agreed, and the boat was pulled to that island.  No sooner had the boat reached the shore than the man jumped over to the land, and cried:  ‘Come on, monk, quick, quick!’ Boku-den, however, slowly rising, said:  ’Do not hasten to lose your head.  It is a rule of my school to prepare