lled him in order to avenge the death of their feudal
chief, Asano Naganori, daimyo of Ako; and then surrendered themselves
to justice. Under the title of The Forty-seven Ronins, this story has
been told in history, on the stage, and in all forms of literature,
so that its details need not be repeated here. It will suffice to say
that, under great provocation, the Ako feudatory drew his sword in
the precincts of Yedo Castle and cut down Kira Yoshihide, for which
breach of court etiquette rather than for the deed of violence, the
Ako baron was condemned to commit suicide and his estates were
confiscated. Thereupon, forty-seven of his principal vassals pledged
themselves to wreak vengeance, and, after nearly two years of
planning and watching, they finally succeeded in achieving their
purpose. Degenerate as was the spirit of the time, this bold deed
aroused universal admiration. The vendetta was not illegal in Japan.
It had been practised from medieval times and often with direct
sanction of the authorities. But in no circumstances was it
officially permissible within the cities of Kyoto, Yedo, Osaka, and
Sumpu, or in the vicinity of the shogun's shrines. The forty-seven
ronins had therefore committed a capital crime. Yet they had only
obeyed the doctrine of Confucius, and the shogun therefore
endeavoured to save their lives. More than a year was spent
discussing the issue, and it is recorded that Tsunayoshi appealed to
the prince-abbot of Ueno in order to secure his intervention in the
cause of leniency. The day was ultimately carried by the advocates of
stern justice, and the forty-seven ronins were ordered to commit
suicide.

They obeyed without a murmur. One of them, Terasaka Kichiemon by
name, had been sent to carry the news to Ako immediately after the
perpetration of the deed of vengeance. He returned when his comrades
were condemned and gave himself up to the authorities, but they
declined to punish him on the ground that the case had already been
disposed of. The eminent Confucian scholar, Hayashi Nobuatsu,
petitioned for the pardon of the ronins, and the scarcely less
celebrated Muro Kyuso compiled a book describing the incident; but,
for some reason never fully explained, the noteworthy scholar, Ogyu
Sorai, took the opposite side. One act of the authorities is eloquent
as to the sentiment prevailing at the time. They condemned
Yoshihide's son, Yoshikata, to be deprived of his ancestral domain
for not having d