Preface by Lionel Giles

The seventh volume of Mémoires concernant l’histoire, les sciences, les arts, les mœurs, les usages, etc., des Chinois[1] is devoted to the Art of War, and contains, amongst other treatises, Les Treize Articles de Sun-tse, translated from the Chinese by a Jesuit Father, Joseph Amiot. Père Amiot appears to have enjoyed no small reputation as a sinologue in his day, and the field of his labours was certainly extensive. But his so-called translation of the Sun Tzŭ, if placed side by side with the original, is seen at once to be little better than an imposture. It contains a great deal that Sun Tzŭ did not write, and very little indeed of what he did. Here is a fair specimen, taken from the opening sentences of chapter 5:

De l’habileté dans le gouvernement des Troupes. Sun-tse dit: Ayez les noms de tous les Officiers tant généraux que subalternes; inscrivez-les dans un catalogue à part, avec la note des talents & de la capacité de chacun d’eux, afin de pouvoir les employer avec avantage lorsque l’occasion en sera venue. Faites en sorte que tous ceux que vous devez commander soient persuadés que votre principale attention est de les préserver de tout dommage. Les troupes que vous ferez avancer contre l’ennemi doivent être comme des pierres que vous lanceriez contre des œufs. De vous à l’ennemi il ne doit y avoir d’autre différence que celle du fort au faible, du vide au plein. Attaquez à découvert, mais soyez vainqueur en secret. Voilà en peu de mots en quoi consiste l’habileté & toute la perfection même du gouvernement des troupes.

Throughout the nineteenth century, which saw a wonderful development in the study of Chinese literature, no translator ventured to tackle Sun Tzŭ, although his work was known to be highly valued in China as by far the oldest and best compendium of military science. It was not until the year 1905 that the first English translation, by Capt. E. F. Calthrop, R.F.A., appeared at Tokyo under the title Sonshi (the Japanese form of Sun Tzŭ). [2] Unfortunately, it was evident that the translator’s knowledge of Chinese was far too scanty to fit him to grapple with the manifold difficulties of Sun Tzŭ. He himself plainly acknowledges that without the aid of two Japanese gentlemen “the accompanying translation would have been impossible.” We can only wonder, then, that with their help it should have been so excessively bad. It is not merely a question of downright blunders, from which none can hope to be wholly exempt. Omissions were frequent; hard passages were wilfully distorted or slurred over. Such offences are less pardonable. They would not be tolerated in any edition of a Greek or Latin classic, and a similar standard of honesty ought to be insisted upon in translations from Chinese.

From blemishes of this nature, at least, I believe that the present translation is free. It was not undertaken out of any inflated estimate of my own powers; but I could not help feeling that Sun Tzŭ deserved a better fate than had befallen him, and I knew that, at any rate, I could hardly fail to improve on the work of my predecessors. Towards the end of 1908, a new and revised edition of Capt. Calthrop’s translation was published in London, this time, however, without any allusion to his Japanese collaborators. My first three chapters were then already in the printer’s hands, so that the criticisms of Capt. Calthrop therein contained must be understood as referring to his earlier edition. This is on the whole an improvement on the other, though there still remains much that cannot pass muster. Some of the grosser blunders have been rectified and lacunae filled up, but on the other hand a certain number of new mistakes appear. The very first sentence of the introduction is startlingly inaccurate; and later on, while mention is made of “an army of Japanese commentators” on Sun Tzŭ (who are these, by the way?), not a word is vouchsafed about the Chinese commentators, who nevertheless, I venture to assert, form a much more numerous and infinitely more important “army.”

A few special features of the present volume may now be noticed. In the first place, the text has been cut up into paragraphs, both in order to facilitate cross-reference and for the convenience of students generally. The division follows broadly that of Sun Hsing-yen’s edition; but I have sometimes found it desirable to join two or more of his paragraphs into one. In quoting from other works, Chinese writers seldom give more than the bare title by way of reference, and the task of research is apt to be seriously hampered in consequence. From the mass of native commentary my aim has been to extract the cream only, adding the Chinese text here and there when it seemed to present points of literary interest. Though constituting in itself an important branch of Chinese literature, very little commentary of this kind has hitherto been made directly accessible by translation. [3]

I may say in conclusion that, owing to the printing off of my sheets as they were completed, the work has not had the benefit of a final revision. On a review of the whole, without modifying the substance of my criticisms, I might have been inclined in a few instances to temper their asperity. Having chosen to wield a bludgeon, however, I shall not cry out if in return I am visited with more than a rap over the knuckles. Indeed, I have been at some pains to put a sword into the hands of future opponents by scrupulously giving either text or reference for every passage translated. A scathing review, even from the pen of the Shanghai critic who despises “mere translations,” would not, I must confess, be altogether unwelcome. For, after all, the worst fate I shall have to dread is that which befell the ingenious paradoxes of George in The Vicar of Wakefield.

Sun Wu and His Book

Ssŭ-ma Ch’ien gives the following biography of Sun Tzŭ:[4]

孫子武 Sun Tzŭ Wu was a native of the Ch’i State. His Art of War brought him to the notice of 闔盧 Ho Lu,[5] King of 吳 Wu. Ho Lu said to him:

“I have carefully perused your 13 chapters. May I submit your theory of managing soldiers to a slight test?”

Sun Tzŭ replied: “You may.”

Ho Lu asked: “May the test be applied to women?”

The answer was again in the affirmative, so arrangements were made to bring 180 ladies out of the Palace. Sun Tzŭ divided them into two companies, and placed one of the King’s favorite concubines at the head of each. He then bade them all take spears in their hands, and addressed them thus: “I presume you know the difference between front and back, right hand and left hand?”

The girls replied: “Yes.”

Sun Tzŭ went on: “When I say ‘Eyes front,’ you must look straight ahead. When I say ‘Left turn,’ you must face towards your left hand. When I say ‘Right turn,’ you must face towards your right hand. When I say ‘About turn,’ you must face right round towards your back.”

Again the girls assented. The words of command having been thus explained, he set up the halberds and battle-axes in order to begin the drill. Then, to the sound of drums, he gave the order “Right turn.” But the girls only burst out laughing. Sun Tzŭ said: “If words of command are not clear and distinct, if orders are not thoroughly understood, then the general is to blame.”

So he started drilling them again, and this time gave the order “Left turn,” whereupon the girls once more burst into fits of laughter. Sun Tzŭ: “If words of command are not clear and distinct, if orders are not thoroughly understood, the general is to blame. But if his orders are clear, and the soldiers nevertheless disobey, then it is the fault of their officers.”

So saying, he ordered the leaders of the two companies to be beheaded. Now the king of Wu was watching the scene from the top of a raised pavilion; and when he saw that his favorite concubines were about to be executed, he was greatly alarmed and hurriedly sent down the following message: “We are now quite satisfied as to our general’s ability to handle troops. If we are bereft of these two concubines, our meat and drink will lose their savor. It is our wish that they shall not be beheaded.”

Sun Tzŭ replied: “Having once received His Majesty’s commission to be the general of his forces, there are certain commands of His Majesty which, acting in that capacity, I am unable to accept.”

Accordingly, he had the two leaders beheaded, and straightway installed the pair next in order as leaders in their place. When this had been done, the drum was sounded for the drill once more; and the girls went through all the evolutions, turning to the right or to the left, marching ahead or wheeling back, kneeling or standing, with perfect accuracy and precision, not venturing to utter a sound. Then Sun Tzŭ sent a messenger to the King saying: “Your soldiers, Sire, are now properly drilled and disciplined, and ready for your majesty’s inspection. They can be put to any use that their sovereign may desire; bid them go through fire and water, and they will not disobey.”

But the King replied: “Let our general cease drilling and return to camp. As for us, We have no wish to come down and inspect the troops.”

Thereupon Sun Tzŭ said: “The King is only fond of words, and cannot translate them into deeds.”

After that, Ho Lu saw that Sun Tzŭ was one who knew how to handle an army, and finally appointed him general. In the west, he defeated the Ch’u State and forced his way into Ying, the capital; to the north he put fear into the States of Ch’i and Chin, and spread his fame abroad amongst the feudal princes. And Sun Tzŭ shared in the might of the King.

About Sun Tzŭ himself this is all that Ssŭ-ma Ch’ien has to tell us in this chapter. But he proceeds to give a biography of his descendant, 孫臏 Sun Pin, born about a hundred years after his famous ancestor’s death, and also the outstanding military genius of his time. The historian speaks of him too as Sun Tzŭ, and in his preface we read: 孫子臏脚而論兵法 “Sun Tzŭ had his feet cut off and yet continued to discuss the art of war.” [6] It seems likely, then, that “Pin” was a nickname bestowed on him after his mutilation, unless the story was invented in order to account for the name. The crowning incident of his career, the crushing defeat of his treacherous rival P’ang Chuan, will be found briefly related in note 292.

To return to the elder Sun Tzŭ. He is mentioned in two other passages of the Shih Chi:⁠—

In the third year of his reign [512 BC] Ho Lu, king of Wu, took the field with 子胥 Tzŭ-hsü [i.e. 伍員 Wu Yüan] and 伯嚭 Po P’ei, and attacked Ch’u. He captured the town of 舒 Shu and slew the two prince’s sons who had formerly been generals of Wu. He was then meditating a descent on 郢 Ying [the capital]; but the general Sun Wu said: “The army is exhausted. [7] It is not yet possible. We must wait.”⁠ ⁠…[8] [After further successful fighting,] in the ninth year [506 BC], King Ho Lu addressed Wu Tzŭ-hsü and Sun Wu, saying: “Formerly, you declared that it was not yet possible for us to enter Ying. Is the time ripe now?” The two men replied: “Ch’u’s general 子常 Tzŭ-ch’ang,[9] is grasping and covetous, and the princes of 唐 T’ang and 蔡 Ts’ai both have a grudge against him. If Your Majesty has resolved to make a grand attack, you must win over T’ang and Ts’ai, and then you may succeed.” Ho Lu followed this advice, [beat Ch’u in five pitched battles and marched into Ying.] [10]

This is the latest date at which anything is recorded of Sun Wu. He does not appear to have survived his patron, who died from the effects of a wound in 496.

In the chapter entitled 律書 (the earlier portion of which M. Chavannes believes to be a fragment of a treatise on Military Weapons), there occurs this passage:[11]

From this time onward, a number of famous soldiers arose, one after the other: 咎犯 Kao-fan,[12] who was employed by the Chin State; Wang-tzŭ,[13] in the service of Ch’i; and Sun Wu, in the service of Wu. These men developed and threw light upon the principles of war. (申明軍約).

It is obvious enough that Ssŭ-ma Ch’ien at least had no doubt about the reality of Sun Wu as an historical personage; and with one exception, to be noticed presently, he is by far the most important authority on the period in question. It will not be necessary, therefore, to say much of such a work as the 吳越春秋 Wu Yüeh Ch’un Ch’iu, which is supposed to have been written by 趙曄 Chao Yeh of the 1st century AD. The attribution is somewhat doubtful; but even if it were otherwise, his account would be of little value, based as it is on the Shih Chi and expanded with romantic details. The story of Sun Tzŭ will be found, for what it is worth, in chapter 2. The only new points in it worth noting are: (1) Sun Tzŭ was first recommended to Ho Lu by Wu Tzŭ-hsü. (2) He is called a native of Wu. [14] (3) He had previously lived a retired life, and his contemporaries were unaware of his ability. [15]

The following passage occurs in the 淮南子 Huai-nan Tzŭ: “When sovereign and ministers show perversity of mind, it is impossible even for a Sun Tzŭ to encounter the foe.” [16] Assuming that this work is genuine (and hitherto no doubt has been cast upon it), we have here the earliest direct reference for Sun Tzŭ, for Huai-nan Tzŭ died in 122 BC, many years before the Shih Chi was given to the world.

劉向 Liu Hsiang (80⁠–⁠9 BC) in his 新序 says: “The reason why Sun Tzŭ at the head of 30,000 men beat Ch’u with 200,000 is that the latter were undisciplined.” [17]

鄧名世 Têng Ming-shih in his 姓氏辨證書 (completed in 1134) informs us that the surname 孫 was bestowed on Sun Wu’s grandfather by 景公 Duke Ching of Ch’i (547⁠–⁠490 BC). Sun Wu’s father Sun 馮 P’ing, rose to be a Minister of State in Ch’i, and Sun Wu himself, whose style was 長卿 Ch’ang-ch’ing, fled to Wu on account of the rebellion which was being fomented by the kindred of 田鮑 T’ien Pao. He had three sons, of whom the second, named 明 Ming, was the father of Sun Pin. According to this account then, Pin was the grandson of Wu,[18] which, considering that Sun Pin’s victory over 魏 Wei was gained in 341 BC, may be dismissed as chronologically impossible. Whence these data were obtained by Têng Ming-shih I do not know, but of course no reliance whatever can be placed in them.

An interesting document which has survived from the close of the Han period is the short preface written by the Great 曹操 Ts’ao Ts’ao, or 魏武帝 Wu Wei Ti, for his edition of Sun Tzŭ. I shall give it in full:⁠—

I have heard that the ancients used bows and arrows to their advantage. [19] The Lun Yu says: “There must be a sufficiency of military strength.” [20] The Shu Ching mentions “the army” among the “eight objects of government.” [21] The I Ching says: “師 ‘army’ indicates firmness and justice; the experienced leader will have good fortune.” [22] The Shih Ching says: “The King rose majestic in his wrath, and he marshaled his troops.” [23] The Yellow Emperor, T’ang the Completer and Wang all used spears and battle-axes in order to succor their generation. The Ssŭ-ma Fa says: “If one man slay another of set purpose, he himself may rightfully be slain.” [24] He who relies solely on warlike measures shall be exterminated; he who relies solely on peaceful measures shall perish. Instances of this are Fu Ch’ai [25] on the one hand and Yen Wang on the other. [26] In military matters, the Sage’s rule is normally to keep the peace, and to move his forces only when occasion requires. He will not use armed force unless driven to it by necessity. [27]

Many books have I read on the subject of war and fighting; but the work composed by Sun Wu is the profoundest of them all. [Sun Tzŭ was a native of the Ch’i state, his personal name was Wu. He wrote the Art of War in 13 chapters for Ho Lu, King of Wu. Its principles were tested on women, and he was subsequently made a general. He led an army westwards, crushed the Ch’u state and entered Ying the capital. In the north, he kept Ch’i and Chin in awe. A hundred years and more after his time, Sun Pin lived. He was a descendant of Wu]. [28] In his treatment of deliberation and planning, the importance of rapidity in taking the field,[29] clearness of conception, and depth of design, Sun Tzŭ stands beyond the reach of carping criticism. My contemporaries, however, have failed to grasp the full meaning of his instructions, and while putting into practice the smaller details in which his work abounds, they have overlooked its essential purport. That is the motive which has led me to outline a rough explanation of the whole. [30]

One thing to be noticed in the above is the explicit statement that the 13 chapters were specially composed for King Ho Lu. This is supported by the internal evidence of chapter I (“The general that hearkens to my counsel⁠ ⁠…”), in which it seems clear that some ruler is addressed.

In the bibliographic section of the Han Shu,[31] there is an entry which has given rise to much discussion: 吳孫子八十二篇圖九卷 “The works of Sun Tzŭ of Wu in 82 p’ien (or chapters), with diagrams in 9 chüan.” It is evident that this cannot be merely the 13 chapters known to Ssŭ-ma Ch’ien, or those we possess today. Chang Shou-chieh in his 史記正義 refers to an edition of Sun Tzŭ’s 兵法 of which the “13 chapters” formed the first chüan, adding that there were two other chüan besides. [32] This has brought forth a theory, that the bulk of these 82 chapters consisted of other writings of Sun Tzŭ⁠—we should call them apocryphal⁠—similar to the 問答 Wen Ta, of which a specimen dealing with the Nine Situations [33] is preserved in the 通典 T’ung Tien, and another in Ho Shih’s commentary. It is suggested that before his interview with Ho Lu, Sun Tzŭ had only written the 13 chapters, but afterwards composed a sort of exegesis in the form of question and answer between himself and the King. 畢以珣 Pi I-hsün, the author of the 孫子敘錄 Sun Tzŭ Hsü Lu, backs this up with a quotation from the Wu Yüeh Ch’un Ch’iu: “The King of Wu summoned Sun Tzŭ, and asked him questions about the art of war. Each time he set forth a chapter of his work, the King could not find words enough to praise him.” [34] As he points out, if the whole work was expounded on the same scale as in the above-mentioned fragments, the total number of chapters could not fail to be considerable. [35] Then the numerous other treatises attributed to Sun Tzŭ [36] might also be included. The fact that the Han Chih mentions no work of Sun Tzŭ except the 82 p’ien, whereas the Sui and T’ang bibliographies give the titles of others in addition to the “13 chapters,” is good proof, Pi I-hsün thinks, that all of these were contained in the 82 p’ien. Without pinning our faith to the accuracy of details supplied by the Wu Yüeh Ch’un Ch’iu, or admitting the genuineness of any of the treatises cited by Pi I-hsün, we may see in this theory a probable solution of the mystery. Between Ssŭ-ma Ch’ien and Pan Ku there was plenty of time for a luxuriant crop of forgeries to have grown up under the magic name of Sun Tzŭ, and the 82 p’ien may very well represent a collected edition of these lumped together with the original work. It is also possible, though less likely, that some of them existed in the time of the earlier historian and were purposely ignored by him. [37]

Tu Mu, after Ts’ao Kung the most important commentator on Sun Tzŭ, composed the preface to his edition [38] about the middle of the ninth century. After a somewhat lengthy defence of the military art,[39] he comes at last to Sun Tzŭ himself, and makes one or two very startling assertions:⁠—“The writings of Sun Wu,” he says, “originally comprised several hundred thousand words, but Ts’ao Ts’ao, the Emperor Wei, pruned away all redundancies and wrote out the essence of the whole, so as to form a single book in 13 chapters.” [40] He goes on to remark that Ts’ao Ts’ao’s commentary on Sun Tzŭ leaves a certain proportion of difficulties unexplained. [41] This, in Tu Mu’s opinion, does not necessarily imply that he was unable to furnish a complete commentary. According to the Wei Chih, Ts’ao himself wrote a book on war in something over 100,000 words, known as the 新書. It appears to have been of such exceptional merit that he suspects Ts’ao to have used for it the surplus material which he had found in Sun Tzŭ. He concludes, however, by saying: “The Hsin Shu is now lost, so that the truth cannot be known for certain.” [42]

Tu Mu’s conjecture seems to be based on a passage in the 漢官解詁 “Wei Wu Ti strung together Sun Wu’s Art of War,”[43] which in turn may have resulted from a misunderstanding of the final words of Ts’ao Kung’s preface: 故撰為略解焉. This, as Sun Hsing-yen points out,[44] is only a modest way of saying that he made an explanatory paraphrase,[45] or in other words, wrote a commentary on it. On the whole, this theory has met with very little acceptance. Thus, the 四庫全書 says:[46] “The mention of the 13 chapters in the Shih Chi shows that they were in existence before the Han Chih, and that latter accretions are not to be considered part of the original work. Tu Mu’s assertion can certainly not be taken as proof.” [47]

There is every reason to suppose, then, that the 13 chapters existed in the time of Ssŭ-ma Ch’ien practically as we have them now. That the work was then well known he tells us in so many words: “Sun Tzŭ’s 13 Chapters and Ch’i’s Art of War are the two books that people commonly refer to on the subject of military matters. Both of them are widely distributed, so I will not discuss them here.” [48] But as we go further back, serious difficulties begin to arise. The salient fact which has to be faced is that the Tso Chuan, the greatest contemporary record, makes no mention whatsoever of Sun Wu, either as a general or as a writer. It is natural, in view of this awkward circumstance, that many scholars should not only cast doubt on the story of Sun Wu as given in the Shih Chi, but even show themselves frankly skeptical as to the existence of the man at all. The most powerful presentment of this side of the case is to be found in the following disposition by 葉水心 Yeh Shui-hsin:[49] ⁠—

It is stated in Ssŭ-ma Ch’ien’s history that Sun Wu was a native of the Ch’i State, and employed by Wu; and that in the reign of Ho Lu he crushed Ch’u, entered Ying, and was a great general. But in Tso’s Commentary no Sun Wu appears at all. It is true that Tso’s Commentary need not contain absolutely everything that other histories contain. But Tso has not omitted to mention vulgar plebeians and hireling ruffians such as Ying K’ao-shu,[50] Ts’ao Kuei,[51] Chu Chih-wu [52] and Chuan She-chu. [53] In the case of Sun Wu, whose fame and achievements were so brilliant, the omission is much more glaring. Again, details are given, in their due order, about his contemporaries Wu Yüan and the Minister P’ei. [54] Is it credible that Sun Wu alone should have been passed over? [55]

In point of literary style, Sun Tzŭ’s work belongs to the same school as Kuan Tzŭ,[56] Liu T’ao,[57] and the Yüeh Yü,[58] and may have been the production of some private scholar living towards the end of the “Spring and Autumn” or the beginning of the “Warring States” period. [59] The story that his precepts were actually applied by the Wu State, is merely the outcome of big talk on the part of his followers. [60]

From the flourishing period of the Chou dynasty [61] down to the time of the “Spring and Autumn,” all military commanders were statesmen as well, and the class of professional generals, for conducting external campaigns, did not then exist. It was not until the period of the “Six States”[62] that this custom changed. Now although Wu was an uncivilized State, is it conceivable that Tso should have left unrecorded the fact that Sun Wu was a great general and yet held no civil office? What we are told, therefore, about Jang-chu [63] and Sun Wu, is not authentic matter, but the reckless fabrication of theorizing pundits. The story of Ho Lü’s experiment on the women, in particular, is utterly preposterous and incredible. [64]

Yeh Shui-hsin represents Ssŭ-ma Ch’ien as having said that Sun Wu crushed Ch’u and entered Ying. This is not quite correct. No doubt the impression left on the reader’s mind is that he at least shared in these exploits; but the subject of the verbs 破, 入, 威 and 顯 is certainly 闔廬, as shown by the next words: 孫子與有力焉. [65] The fact may or may not be significant; but it is nowhere explicitly stated in the Shih Chi either that Sun Tzŭ was general on the occasion of the taking of Ying, or that he even went there at all. Moreover, as we know that Yüan and Po P’ei both took part in the expedition, and also that its success was largely due to the dash and enterprise of 夫㮣 Fu Kai, Ho Lu’s younger brother, it is not easy to see how yet another general could have played a very prominent part in the same campaign.

陳振孫 Ch’ên Chên-sun of the Sung dynasty has the note:⁠—[66]

Military writers look upon Sun Wu as the father of their art. But the fact that he does not appear in the Tso Chuan, although he is said to have served under Ho Lü King of Wu, makes it uncertain what period he really belonged to. [67]

He also says:⁠—

The works of Sun Wu and Ch’i may be of genuine antiquity. [68]

It is noticeable that both Yeh Shui-hsin and Ch’ên Chên-sun, while rejecting the personality of Sun Wu as he figures in Ssŭ-ma Ch’ien’s history, are inclined to accept the date traditionally assigned to the work which passes under his name. The author of the Hsü Lu fails to appreciate this distinction, and consequently his bitter attack on Ch’ên Chên-sun really misses its mark. He makes one of two points, however, which certainly tell in favor of the high antiquity of our “13 chapters.” “Sun Tzŭ,” he says, “must have lived in the age of Ching Wang [519⁠–⁠476], because he is frequently plagiarized in subsequent works of the Chou, Ch’in and Han dynasties.” [69] The two most shameless offenders in this respect are Wu Ch’i and Huai-nan Tzŭ, both of them important historical personages in their day. The former lived only a century after the alleged date of Sun Tzŭ, and his death is known to have taken place in 381 BC. It was to him, according to Liu Hsiang, that 曾申 Tsêng Shên delivered the Tso Chuan, which had been entrusted to him by its author. [70] Now the fact that quotations from the Art of War, acknowledged or otherwise, are to be found in so many authors of different epochs, establishes a very strong anterior to them all⁠—in other words, that Sun Tzŭ’s treatise was already in existence towards the end of the 5th century BC. Further proof of Sun Tzŭ’s antiquity is furnished by the archaic or wholly obsolete meanings attaching to a number of the words he uses. A list of these, which might perhaps be extended, is given in the Hsü Lu; and though some of the interpretations are doubtful, the main argument is hardly affected thereby. [71] Again, it must not be forgotten that Yeh Shui-hsin, a scholar and critic of the first rank, deliberately pronounces the style of the 13 chapters to belong to the early part of the fifth century. Seeing that he is actually engaged in an attempt to disprove the existence of Sun Wu himself, we may be sure that he would not have hesitated to assign the work to a later date had he not honestly believed the contrary. And it is precisely on such a point that the judgment of an educated Chinaman will carry most weight. Other internal evidence is not far to seek. Thus in chapter XIII (“Raising a host of a hundred thousand men⁠ ⁠…”), there is an unmistakable allusion to the ancient system of land-tenure which had already passed away by the time of Mencius, who was anxious to see it revived in a modified form. [72] The only warfare Sun Tzŭ knows is that carried on between the various feudal princes (諸侯), in which armored chariots play a large part. Their use seems to have entirely died out before the end of the Chou dynasty. He speaks as a man of Wu, a state which ceased to exist as early as 473 BC. On this I shall touch presently.

But once refer the work to the 5th century or earlier, and the chances of its being other than a bonâ fide production are sensibly diminished. The great age of forgeries did not come until long after. That it should have been forged in the period immediately following 473 is particularly unlikely, for no one, as a rule, hastens to identify himself with a lost cause. As for Yeh Shui-hsin’s theory, that the author was a literary recluse,[73] that seems to me quite untenable. If one thing is more apparent than another after reading the maxims of Sun Tzŭ, it is that their essence has been distilled from a large store of personal observation and experience. They reflect the mind not only of a born strategist, gifted with a rare faculty of generalization, but also of a practical soldier closely acquainted with the military conditions of his time. To say nothing of the fact that these sayings have been accepted and endorsed by all the greatest captains of Chinese history, they offer a combination of freshness and sincerity, acuteness and common sense, which quite excludes the idea that they were artificially concocted in the study. If we admit, then, that the 13 chapters were the genuine production of a military man living towards the end of the “Ch’un Ch’iu” period, are we not bound, in spite of the silence of the Tso Chuan, to accept Ssŭ-ma Ch’ien’s account in its entirety? In view of his high repute as a sober historian, must we not hesitate to assume that the records he drew upon for Sun Wu’s biography were false and untrustworthy? The answer, I fear, must be in the negative. There is still one grave, if not fatal, objection to the chronology involved in the story as told in the Shih Chi, which, so far as I am aware, nobody has yet pointed out. There are two passages in Sun Tzŭ in which he alludes to contemporary affairs. The first is in VI:⁠—

Though according to my estimate the soldiers of Yüeh exceed our own in number, that shall advantage them nothing in the matter of victory. I say then that victory can be achieved.

The other is in XI:⁠—

Asked if an army can be made to imitate the shuai-jan, I should answer, Yes. For the men of Wu and the men of Yüeh are enemies; yet if they are crossing a river in the same boat and are caught by a storm, they will come to each other’s assistance just as the left hand helps the right.

These two paragraphs are extremely valuable as evidence of the date of composition. They assign the work to the period of the struggle between Wu and Yüeh. So much has been observed by Pi I-hsün. But what has hitherto escaped notice is that they also seriously impair the credibility of Ssŭ-ma Ch’ien’s narrative. As we have seen above, the first positive date given in connection with Sun Wu is 512 BC. He is then spoken of as a general, acting as confidential adviser to Ho Lu, so that his alleged introduction to that monarch had already taken place, and of course the 13 chapters must have been written earlier still. But at that time, and for several years after, down to the capture of Ying in 506, 楚 Ch’u and not Yüeh, was the great hereditary enemy of Wu. The two states, Ch’u and Wu, had been constantly at war for over half a century,[74] whereas the first war between Wu and Yüeh was waged only in 510,[75] and even then was no more than a short interlude sandwiched in the midst of the fierce struggle with Ch’u. Now Ch’u is not mentioned in the 13 chapters at all. The natural inference is that they were written at a time when Yüeh had become the prime antagonist of Wu, that is, after Ch’u had suffered the great humiliation of 506. At this point, a table of dates may be found useful.

The sentence quoted above from chapter VI hardly strikes me as one that could have been written in the full flush of victory. It seems rather to imply that, for the moment at least, the tide had turned against Wu, and that she was getting the worst of the struggle. Hence we may conclude that our treatise was not in existence in 505, before which date Yüeh does not appear to have scored any notable success against Wu. Ho Lu died in 496, so that if the book was written for him, it must have been during the period 505⁠–⁠496, when there was a lull in the hostilities, Wu having presumably exhausted by its supreme effort against Ch’u. On the other hand, if we choose to disregard the tradition connecting Sun Wu’s name with Ho Lu, it might equally well have seen the light between 496 and 494, or possibly in the period 482⁠–⁠473, when Yüeh was once again becoming a very serious menace. [76] We may feel fairly certain that the author, whoever he may have been, was not a man of any great eminence in his own day. On this point the negative testimony of the Tso Chuan far outweighs any shred of authority still attaching to the Shih Chi, if once its other facts are discredited. Sun Hsing-yen, however, makes a feeble attempt to explain the omission of his name from the great commentary. It was Wu Tzŭ-hsü, he says, who got all the credit of Sun Wu’s exploits, because the latter (being an alien) was not rewarded with an office in the State. [77]

How then did the Sun Tzŭ legend originate? It may be that the growing celebrity of the book imparted by degrees a kind of factitious renown to its author. It was felt to be only right and proper that one so well versed in the science of war should have solid achievements to his credit as well. Now the capture of Ying was undoubtedly the greatest feat of arms in Ho Lu’s reign; it made a deep and lasting impression on all the surrounding states, and raised Wu to the short-lived zenith of her power. Hence, what more natural, as time went on, than that the acknowledged master of strategy, Sun Wu, should be popularly identified with that campaign, at first perhaps only in the sense that his brain conceived and planned it; afterwards, that it was actually carried out by him in conjunction with Wu Yüan,[78] Po P’ei and Fu Kai?

It is obvious that any attempt to reconstruct even the outline of Sun Tzŭ’s life must be based almost wholly on conjecture. With this necessary proviso, I should say that he probably entered the service of Wu about the time of Ho Lu’s accession, and gathered experience, though only in the capacity of a subordinate officer, during the intense military activity which marked the first half of the prince’s reign. [79] If he rose to be a general at all, he certainly was never on an equal footing with the three above mentioned. He was doubtless present at the investment and occupation of Ying, and witnessed Wu’s sudden collapse in the following year. Yüeh’s attack at this critical juncture, when her rival was embarrassed on every side, seems to have convinced him that this upstart kingdom was the great enemy against whom every effort would henceforth have to be directed. Sun Wu was thus a well-seasoned warrior when he sat down to write his famous book, which according to my reckoning must have appeared towards the end, rather than the beginning of Ho Lu’s reign. The story of the women may possibly have grown out of some real incident occurring about the same time. As we hear no more of Sun Wu after this from any source, he is hardly likely to have survived his patron or to have taken part in the death-struggle with Yüeh, which began with the disaster at Tsui-li.

If these inferences are approximately correct, there is a certain irony in the fate which decreed that China’s most illustrious man of peace should be contemporary with her greatest writer on war.

The Text of Sun Tzŭ

I have found it difficult to glean much about the history of Sun Tzŭ’s text. The quotations that occur in early authors go to show that the “13 chapters” of which Ssŭ-ma Ch’ien speaks were essentially the same as those now extant. We have his word for it that they were widely circulated in his day, and can only regret that he refrained from discussing them on that account. [80] Sun Hsing-yen says in his preface:⁠—

During the Ch’in and Han dynasties Sun Tzŭ’s Art of War was in general use amongst military commanders, but they seem to have treated it as a work of mysterious import, and were unwilling to expound it for the benefit of posterity. Thus it came about that Wei Wu was the first to write a commentary on it. [81]

As we have already seen, there is no reasonable ground to suppose that Ts’ao Kung tampered with the text. But the text itself is often so obscure, and the number of editions which appeared from that time onward so great, especially during the T’ang and Sung dynasties, that it would be surprising if numerous corruptions had not managed to creep in. Towards the middle of the Sung period, by which time all the chief commentaries on Sun Tzŭ were in existence, a certain 吉天保 Chi T’ien-pao published a work in 15 chüan entitled 十家孫子會注 Sun Tzŭ with the collected commentaries of ten writers. [82] There was another text, with variant readings put forward by Chu Fu of 大興 Ta-hsing,[83] which also had supporters among the scholars of that period; but in the Ming editions, Sun Hsing-yen tells us, these readings were for some reason or other no longer put into circulation. [84] Thus, until the end of the 18th century, the text in sole possession of the field was one derived from Chi T’ien-pao’s edition, although no actual copy of that important work was known to have survived. That, therefore, is the text of Sun Tzŭ which appears in the War section of the great Imperial encyclopedia printed in 1726, the 古今圖書集成 Ku Chin T’u Shu Chi Ch’êng. Another copy at my disposal of what is practically the same text, with slight variations, is that contained in the 周秦十一子 Eleven philosophers of the Chou and Ch’in dynasties (1758). And the Chinese printed in Capt. Calthrop’s first edition is evidently a similar version which has filtered through Japanese channels. So things remained until 孫星衍 Sun Hsing-yen (1752⁠–⁠1818), a distinguished antiquarian and classical scholar,[85] who claimed to be an actual descendant of Sun Wu,[86] accidentally discovered a copy of Chi T’ien-pao’s long-lost work, when on a visit to the library of the 華陰 Hua-yin temple. [87] Appended to it was the 遺說 I Shuo of 鄭友賢Chêng Yu-hsien, mentioned in the T’ung Chih, and also believed to have perished. [88] This is what Sun Hsing-yen designates as the 古本 or 原本 “original edition (or text)”⁠—a rather misleading name, for it cannot by any means claim to set before us the text of Sun Tzŭ in its pristine purity. Chi T’ien-pao was a careless compiler,[89] and appears to have been content to reproduce the somewhat debased version current in his day, without troubling to collate it with the earliest editions then available. Fortunately, two versions of Sun Tzŭ, even older than the newly discovered work, were still extant, one buried in the T’ung Tien, Tu Yu’s great treatise on the Constitution, the other similarly enshrined in the T’ai P’ing Yü Lan encyclopedia. In both the complete text is to be found, though split up into fragments, intermixed with other matter, and scattered piecemeal over a number of different sections. Considering that the Yü Lan takes us back to the year 983, and the T’ung Tien about 200 years further still, to the middle of the T’ang dynasty, the value of these early transcripts of Sun Tzŭ can hardly be overestimated. Yet the idea of utilizing them does not seem to have occurred to anyone until Sun Hsing-yen, acting under Government instructions, undertook a thorough recension of the text. This is his own account:⁠—

Because of the numerous mistakes in the text of Sun Tzŭ which his editors had handed down, the Government ordered that the ancient edition [of Chi T’ien-pao] should be used, and that the text should be revised and corrected throughout. It happened that Wu Nien-hu, the Governor Pi Kua, and Hsi, a graduate of the second degree, had all devoted themselves to this study, probably surpassing me therein. Accordingly, I have had the whole work cut on blocks as a textbook for military men. [90]

The three individuals here referred to had evidently been occupied on the text of Sun Tzŭ prior to Sun Hsing-yen’s commission, but we are left in doubt as to the work they really accomplished. At any rate, the new edition, when ultimately produced, appeared in the names of Sun Hsing-yen and only one co-editor 吳人驥 Wu Jên-shi. They took the “original edition” as their basis, and by careful comparison with older versions, as well as the extant commentaries and other sources of information such as the I Shuo, succeeded in restoring a very large number of doubtful passages, and turned out, on the whole, what must be accepted as the closest approximation we are ever likely to get to Sun Tzŭ’s original work. This is what will hereafter be denominated the “standard text.”

The copy which I have used belongs to a reissue dated 1877. It is in 6 pên, forming part of a well-printed set of 23 early philosophical works in 83 pên. [91] It opens with a preface by Sun Hsing-yen (largely quoted in this introduction), vindicating the traditional view of Sun Tzŭ’s life and performances, and summing up in remarkably concise fashion the evidence in its favor. This is followed by Ts’ao Kung’s preface to his edition, and the biography of Sun Tzŭ from the Shih Chi, both translated above. Then come, firstly, Chêng Yu-hsien’s I Shuo,[92] with author’s preface, and next, a short miscellany of historical and bibliographical information entitled 孫子敘錄 Sun Tzŭ Hsü Lu, compiled by 畢以珣 Pi I-hsün. As regards the body of the work, each separate sentence is followed by a note on the text, if required, and then by the various commentaries appertaining to it, arranged in chronological order. These we shall now proceed to discuss briefly, one by one.

The Commentators

Sun Tzŭ can boast an exceptionally long distinguished roll of commentators, which would do honor to any classic. 歐陽修 Ou-yang Hsiu remarks on this fact, though he wrote before the tale was complete, and rather ingeniously explains it by saying that the artifices of war, being inexhaustible, must therefore be susceptible of treatment in a great variety of ways. [93]

1. 曹操 Ts’ao Ts’ao or 曹公 Ts’ao Kung, afterwards known as 魏武帝 Wei Wu Ti (AD 155⁠–⁠220). There is hardly any room for doubt that the earliest commentary on Sun Tzŭ actually came from the pen of this extraordinary man, whose biography in the San Kuo Chih[94] reads like a romance. One of the greatest military geniuses that the world has seen, and Napoleonic in the scale of his operations, he was especially famed for the marvelous rapidity of his marches, which has found expression in the line 說曹操曹操就到 “Talk of Ts’ao Ts’ao, and Ts’ao Ts’ao will appear.” Ou-yang Hsiu says of him that he was a great captain who “measured his strength against Tung Cho, Lü Pu and the two Yüan, father and son, and vanquished them all; whereupon he divided the Empire of Han with Wu and Shu, and made himself king. It is recorded that whenever a council of war was held by Wei on the eve of a far-reaching campaign, he had all his calculations ready; those generals who made use of them did not lose one battle in ten; those who ran counter to them in any particular saw their armies incontinently beaten and put to flight.” [95] Ts’ao Kung’s notes on Sun Tzŭ, models of austere brevity, are so thoroughly characteristic of the stern commander known to history, that it is hard indeed to conceive of them as the work of a mere littérateur. Sometimes, indeed, owing to extreme compression, they are scarcely intelligible and stand no less in need of a commentary than the text itself. [96] As we have seen, Ts’ao Kung is the reputed author of the 新書, a book of war in 100,000 odd words, now lost, but mentioned in the 魏志. [97]

2. 孟氏 Mêng Shih. The commentary which has come down to us under this name is comparatively meager, and nothing about the author is known. Even his personal name has not been recorded. Chi T’ien-pao’s edition places him after Chia Lin, and 鼂公武 Ch’ao Kung-wu also assigns him to the T’ang dynasty,[98] but this is a mistake, as his work is mentioned in the 隋書經籍志. In Sun Hsing-yen’s preface, he appears as Mêng Shih of the Liang dynasty (502⁠–⁠557). Others would identify him with 孟康 Mêng K’ang of the 3rd century. In the 宋史藝文志,[99] he is named in one work as the last of the 五家 “Five Commentators,” the others being Wei Wu Ti, Tu Mu, Ch’ên Hao and Chia Lin.

3. 李筌 Li Ch’üan of the 8th century was a well-known writer on military tactics. His 太白陰經 has been in constant use down to the present day. The 通志 mentions 閫外春秋 (lives of famous generals from the Chou to the T’ang dynasty) as written by him. [100] He is also generally supposed to be the real author of the popular Taoist tract, the 陰符經. According to Ch’ao Kung-wu and the T’ien-i-ko catalogue,[101] he followed the 太乙遁甲 text of Sun Tzŭ which differs considerably from those now extant. His notes are mostly short and to the point, and he frequently illustrates his remarks by anecdotes from Chinese history.

4. 杜佑 Tu Yu (died 812) did not publish a separate commentary on Sun Tzŭ, his notes being taken from the T’ung Tien, the encyclopedic treatise on the Constitution which was his lifework. They are largely repetitions of Ts’ao Kung and Mêng Shih, besides which it is believed that he drew on the ancient commentaries of 王凌 Wang Ling and others. Owing to the peculiar arrangement of T’ung Tien, he has to explain each passage on its merits, apart from the context, and sometimes his own explanation does not agree with that of Ts’ao Kung, whom he always quotes first. Though not strictly to be reckoned as one of the “Ten Commentators,” he was added to their number by Chi T’ien-pao, being wrongly placed after his grandson Tu Mu.

5. 杜牧 Tu Mu (803⁠–⁠852) is perhaps the best known as a poet⁠—a bright star even in the glorious galaxy of the T’ang period. We learn from Ch’ao Kung-wu that although he had no practical experience of war, he was extremely fond of discussing the subject, and was moreover well read in the military history of the Ch’un Ch’iu and Chan Kuo eras. [102] His notes, therefore, are well worth attention. They are very copious, and replete with historical parallels. The gist of Sun Tzŭ’s work is thus summarized by him: “Practice benevolence and justice, but on the other hand make full use of artifice and measures of expediency.” [103] He further declared that all the military triumphs and disasters of the thousand years which had elapsed since Sun Wu’s death would, upon examination, be found to uphold and corroborate, in every particular, the maxims contained in his book. [104] Tu Mu’s somewhat spiteful charge against Ts’ao Kung has already been considered elsewhere.

6. 陳皡 Ch’ên Hao appears to have been a contemporary of Tu Mu. Ch’ao Kung-wu says that he was impelled to write a new commentary on Sun Tzŭ because Ts’ao Kung’s on the one hand was too obscure and subtle, and that of Tu Mu on the other too long-winded and diffuse. [105] Ou-yang Hsiu, writing in the middle of the 11th century, calls Ts’ao Kung, Tu Mu and Ch’ên Hao the three chief commentators on Sun Tzŭ (三家), and observes that Ch’ên Hao is continually attacking Tu Mu’s shortcomings. His commentary, though not lacking in merit, must rank below those of his predecessors.

7. 賈林 Chia Lin is known to have lived under the T’ang dynasty, for his commentary on Sun Tzŭ is mentioned in the 唐書 and was afterwards republished by 紀燮 Chi Hsieh of the same dynasty together with those of Mêng Shih and Tu Yu. [106] It is of somewhat scanty texture, and in point of quality, too, perhaps the least valuable of the eleven.

8. 梅堯臣 Mei Yao-ch’ên (1002⁠–⁠1060), commonly known by his “style” as Mei 聖兪 Shêng-yü, was, like Tu Mu, a poet of distinction. His commentary was published with a laudatory preface by the great Ou-yang Hsiu, from which we may cull the following:⁠—

Later scholars have misread Sun Tzŭ, distorting his words and trying to make them square with their own one-sided views. Thus, though commentators have not been lacking, only a few have proved equal to the task. My friend Shêng-yü has not fallen into this mistake. In attempting to provide a critical commentary for Sun Tzŭ’s work, he does not lose sight of the fact that these sayings were intended for states engaged in internecine warfare; that the author is not concerned with the military conditions prevailing under the sovereigns of the three ancient dynasties,[107] nor with the nine punitive measures prescribed to the Minister of War. [108] Again, Sun Wu loved brevity of diction, but his meaning is always deep. Whether the subject be marching an army, or handling soldiers, or estimating the enemy, or controlling the forces of victory, it is always systematically treated; the sayings are bound together in strict logical sequence, though this has been obscured by commentators who have probably failed to grasp their meaning. In his own commentary, Mei Shêng-yü has brushed aside all the obstinate prejudices of these critics, and has tried to bring out the true meaning of Sun Tzŭ himself. In this way, the clouds of confusion have been dispersed and the sayings made clear. I am convinced that the present work deserves to be handed down side by side with the three great commentaries; and for a great deal that they find in the sayings, coming generations will have constant reason to thank my friend Shêng-yü. [109]

Making some allowance for the exuberance of friendship, I am inclined to endorse this favourable judgment, and would certainly place him above Ch’ên Hao in order of merit.

9. 王皙 Wang Hsi, also of the Sung dynasty, is decidedly original in some of his interpretations, but much less judicious than Mei Yao-ch’ên, and on the whole not a very trustworthy guide. He is fond of comparing his own commentary with that of Ts’ao Kung, but the comparison is not often flattering to him. We learn from Ch’ao Kung-wu that Wang Hsi revised the ancient text of Sun Tzŭ, filling up lacunae and correcting mistakes. [110]

10. 何延錫 Ho Yen-hsi of the Sung dynasty. The personal name of this commentator is given as above by 鄭樵 Chêng Ch’iao in the T’ung Chih, written about the middle of the twelfth century, but he appears simply as 何氏 Ho Shih in the Yu Hai, and Ma Tuan-lin quotes Ch’ao Kung-wu as saying that his personal name is unknown. There seems to be no reason to doubt Chêng Ch’iao’s statement, otherwise I should have been inclined to hazard a guess and identify him with one 何去非 Ho Ch’ü-fei, the author of a short treatise on war entitled 備論, who lived in the latter part of the 11th century. [111] Ho Shih’s commentary, in the words of the T’ien-i-ko catalogue, 有所裨益 “contains helpful additions” here and there, but is chiefly remarkable for the copious extracts taken, in adapted form, from the dynastic histories and other sources.

11. 張預 Chang Yü. The list closes with a commentator of no great originality perhaps, but gifted with admirable powers of lucid exposition. His commentary is based on that of Ts’ao Kung, whose terse sentences he contrives to expand and develop in masterly fashion. Without Chang Yü, it is safe to say that much of Ts’ao Kung’s commentary would have remained cloaked in its pristine obscurity and therefore valueless. His work is not mentioned in the Sung history, the T’ung K’ao, or the Yu Hai, but it finds a niche in the T’ung Chih, which also names him as the author of the 百將傳 Lives of Famous Generals. [112]

It is rather remarkable that the last-named four should all have flourished within so short a space of time. Ch’ao Kung-wu accounts for it by saying: “During the early years of the Sung dynasty the Empire enjoyed a long spell of peace, and men ceased to practice the art of war. But when [Chao] Yüan-hao’s rebellion came [1038⁠–⁠42] and the frontier generals were defeated time after time, the Court made strenuous inquiry for men skilled in war, and military topics became the vogue amongst all the high officials. Hence it is that the commentators of Sun Tzŭ in our dynasty belong mainly to that period.” [113]

Besides these eleven commentators, there are several others whose work has not come down to us. The Sui Shu mentions four, namely 王凌 Wang Ling (often quoted by Tu Yu as 王子); 張子尚 Chang Tzŭ-shang; 賈詡 Chia Hsü of 魏 Wei;[114] and 沈友 Shên Yu of 吳 Wu. The T’ang Shu adds 孫鎬 Sun Hao, and the T’ung Chih 蕭吉 Hsiao Chi, while the T’u Shu mentions a Ming commentator, 黃潤玉 Huang Jun-yü. It is possible that some of these may have been merely collectors and editors of other commentaries, like Chi T’ien-pao and Chi Hsieh, mentioned above. Certainly in the case of the latter, the entry 紀燮注孫子 in the T’ung K’ao, without the following note, would give one to understand that he had written an independent commentary of his own.

There are two works, described in the Ssu K’u Ch’üan Shu[115] and no doubt extremely rare, which I should much like to have seen. One is entitled 孫子參同, in 5 chüan. It gives selections from four new commentators, probably of the Ming dynasty, as well as from the eleven known to us. The names of the four are 解元 Hsieh Yüan; 張鏊 Chang Ao; 李村 Li Ts’ai; and 黃治徵 Huang Chih-chêng. The other work is 孫子彙徵 in 4 chüan, compiled by 鄭端 Chêng Tuan of the present dynasty. It is a compendium of information on ancient warfare, with special reference to Sun Tzŭ’s 13 chapters.

Appreciations of Sun Tzŭ

Sun Tzŭ has exercised a potent fascination over the minds of some of China’s greatest men. Among the famous generals who are known to have studied his pages with enthusiasm may be mentioned 韓信 Han Hsin (d. 196 BC),[116] 馮異 Fêng I (d. 34 AD),[117] 呂蒙 Lü Mêng (d. 219),[118] and 岳飛 Yo Fei (1103⁠–⁠1141). [119] The opinion of Ts’ao Kung, who disputes with Han Hsin the highest place in Chinese military annals, has already been recorded. [120] Still more remarkable, in one way, is the testimony of purely literary men, such as 蘇洵 Su Hsün (the father of Su Tung-p’o), who wrote several essays on military topics, all of which owe their chief inspiration to Sun Tzŭ. The following short passage by him is preserved in the Yu Hai:[121] ⁠—

Sun Wu’s saying, that in war one cannot make certain of conquering,[122] is very different indeed from what other books tell us. [123] Wu Ch’i was a man of the same stamp as Sun Wu: they both wrote books on war, and they are linked together in popular speech as “Sun and Wu.” But Wu Ch’i’s remarks on war are less weighty, his rules are rougher and more crudely stated, and there is not the same unity of plan as in Sun Tzŭ’s work, where the style is terse, but the meaning fully brought out. [124]

The 性理彙要, ch. 17, contains the following extract from the 藝圃折衷 Impartial Judgments in the Garden of Literature by 鄭厚 Chêng Hou:⁠—

Sun Tzŭ’s 13 chapters are not only the staple and base of all military men’s training, but also compel the most careful attention of scholars and men of letters. His sayings are terse yet elegant, simple yet profound, perspicuous and eminently practical. Such works as the Lun Yü, the I Ching and the great Commentary,[125] as well as the writings of Mencius, Hsün K’uang and Yang Chu, all fall below the level of Sun Tzŭ. [126]

Chu Hsi, commenting on this, fully admits the first part of the criticism, although he dislikes the audacious comparison with the venerated classical works. Language of this sort, he says, “encourages a ruler’s bent towards unrelenting warfare and reckless militarism.” [127]

Apologies for War

Accustomed as we are to think of China as the greatest peace-loving nation on earth, we are in some danger of forgetting that her experience of war in all its phases has also been such as no modern State can parallel. Her long military annals stretch back to a point at which they are lost in the mists of time. She had built the Great Wall and was maintaining a huge standing army along her frontier centuries before the first Roman legionary was seen on the Danube. What with the perpetual collisions of the ancient feudal States, the grim conflicts with Huns, Turks and other invaders after the centralization of government, the terrific upheavals which accompanied the overthrow of so many dynasties, besides the countless rebellions and minor disturbances that have flamed up and flickered out again one by one, it is hardly too much to say that the clash of arms has never ceased to resound in one portion or another of the Empire.

No less remarkable is the succession of illustrious captains to whom China can point with pride. As in all countries, the greatest are fond of emerging at the most fateful crises of her history. Thus, Po Ch’i stands out conspicuous in the period when Ch’in was entering upon her final struggle with the remaining independent states. The stormy years which followed the breakup of the Ch’in dynasty are illuminated by the transcendent genius of Han Hsin. When the House of Han in turn is tottering to its fall, the great and baleful figure of Ts’ao Ts’ao dominates the scene. And in the establishment of the T’ang dynasty, one of the mightiest tasks achieved by man, the superhuman energy of Li Shih-min (afterwards the Emperor T’ai Tsung) was seconded by the brilliant strategy of Li Ching. None of these generals need fear comparison with the greatest names in the military history of Europe.

In spite of all this, the great body of Chinese sentiment, from Lao Tzŭ downwards, and especially as reflected in the standard literature of Confucianism, has been consistently pacific and intensely opposed to militarism in any form. It is such an uncommon thing to find any of the literati defending warfare on principle, that I have thought it worth while to collect and translate a few passages in which the unorthodox view is upheld. The following, by Ssŭ-ma Ch’ien, shows that for all his ardent admiration of Confucius, he was yet no advocate of peace at any price:⁠—

Military weapons are the means used by the Sage to punish violence and cruelty, to give peace to troublous times, to remove difficulties and dangers, and to succor those who are in peril. Every animal with blood in its veins and horns on its head will fight when it is attacked. How much more so will man, who carries in his breast the faculties of love and hatred, joy and anger! When he is pleased, a feeling of affection springs up within him; when angry, his poisoned sting is brought into play. That is the natural law which governs his being.⁠ ⁠… What then shall be said of those scholars of our time, blind to all great issues, and without any appreciation of relative values, who can only bark out their stale formulas about “virtue” and “civilization,” condemning the use of military weapons? They will surely bring our country to impotence and dishonor and the loss of her rightful heritage; or, at the very least, they will bring about invasion and rebellion, sacrifice of territory and general enfeeblement. Yet they obstinately refuse to modify the position they have taken up. The truth is that, just as in the family the teacher must not spare the rod, and punishments cannot be dispensed with in the State, so military chastisement can never be allowed to fall into abeyance in the Empire. All one can say is that this power will be exercised wisely by some, foolishly by others, and that among those who bear arms some will be loyal and others rebellious. [128]

The next piece is taken from Tu Mu’s preface to his commentary on Sun Tzŭ:⁠—

War may be defined as punishment, which is one of the functions of government. It was the profession of Chung Yu and Jan Ch’iu, both disciples of Confucius. Nowadays, the holding of trials and hearing of litigation, the imprisonment of offenders and their execution by flogging in the marketplace, are all done by officials. But the wielding of huge armies, the throwing down of fortified cities, the hauling of women and children into captivity, and the beheading of traitors⁠—this is also work which is done by officials. The objects of the rack [129] and of military weapons are essentially the same. There is no intrinsic difference between the punishment of flogging and cutting off heads in war. For the lesser infractions of law, which are easily dealt with, only a small amount of force need be employed: hence the use of military weapons and wholesale decapitation. In both cases, however, the end in view is to get rid of wicked people, and to give comfort and relief to the good [130]⁠ ⁠…

Chi-sun asked Jan Yu, saying: “Have you, Sir, acquired your military aptitude by study, or is it innate?” Jan Yu replied: “It has been acquired by study.” [131] “How can that be so,” said Chi-sun, “seeing that you are a disciple of Confucius?” “It is a fact,” replied Jan Yu; “I was taught by Confucius. It is fitting that the great Sage should exercise both civil and military functions, though to be sure my instruction in the art of fighting has not yet gone very far.”

Now, who the author was of this rigid distinction between the “civil” and the “military,” and the limitation of each to a separate sphere of action, or in what year of which dynasty it was first introduced, is more than I can say. But, at any rate, it has come about that the members of the governing class are quite afraid of enlarging on military topics, or do so only in a shamefaced manner. If any are bold enough to discuss the subject, they are at once set down as eccentric individuals of coarse and brutal propensities. This is an extraordinary instance in which, through sheer lack of reasoning, men unhappily lose sight of fundamental principles. [132]

When the Duke of Chou was minister under Ch’êng Wang, he regulated ceremonies and made music, and venerated the arts of scholarship and learning; yet when the barbarians of the River Huai revolted,[133] he sallied forth and chastised them. When Confucius held office under the Duke of Lu, and a meeting was convened at Chia-ku,[134] he said: “If pacific negotiations are in progress, warlike preparations should have been made beforehand.” He rebuked and shamed the Marquis of Ch’i, who cowered under him and dared not proceed to violence. How can it be said that these two great Sages had no knowledge of military matters? [135]

We have seen that the great Chu Hsi held Sun Tzŭ in high esteem. He also appeals to the authority of the Classics:⁠—

Our Master Confucius, answering Duke Ling of Wei, said: “I have never studied matters connected with armies and battalions.” [136] Replying to K’ung Wên-tzŭ, he said: “I have not been instructed about buff-coats and weapons.” [137] But if we turn to the meeting at Chia-ku,[138] we find that he used armed force against the men of Lai,[139] so that the marquis of Ch’i was overawed. Again, when the inhabitants of Pi revolted; he ordered his officers to attack them, whereupon they were defeated and fled in confusion. [140] He once uttered the words: “If I fight, I conquer.” [141] And Jan Yu also said: “The Sage exercises both civil and military functions.” [142] Can it be a fact that Confucius never studied or received instruction in the art of war? We can only say that he did not specially choose matters connected with armies and fighting to be the subject of his teaching. [143]

Sun Hsing-yen, the editor of Sun Tzŭ, writes in similar strain:⁠—

Confucius said: “I am unversed in military matters.” [144] He also said: “If I fight, I conquer.” Confucius ordered ceremonies and regulated music. Now war constitutes one of the five classes of State ceremonial,[145] and must not be treated as an independent branch of study. Hence, the words “I am unversed in” must be taken to mean that there are things which even an inspired Teacher does not know. Those who have to lead an army and devise stratagems, must learn the art of war. But if one can command the services of a good general like Sun Tzŭ, who was employed by Wu Tzŭ-hsü, there is no need to learn it oneself. Hence the remark added by Confucius: “If I fight, I conquer.” [146]

The men of the present day, however, willfully interpret these words of Confucius in their narrowest sense, as though he meant that books on the art of war were not worth reading. With blind persistency, they adduce the example of Chao Kua, who pored over his father’s books to no purpose,[147] as a proof that all military theory is useless. Again, seeing that books on war have to do with such things as opportunism in designing plans, and the conversion of spies, they hold that the art is immoral and unworthy of a sage. These people ignore the fact that the studies of our scholars and the civil administration of our officials also require steady application and practice before efficiency is reached. The ancients were particularly chary of allowing mere novices to botch their work. [148] Weapons are baneful [149] and fighting perilous; and unless a general is in constant practice, he ought not to hazard other men’s lives in battle. [150] Hence it is essential that Sun Tzŭ’s 13 chapters should be studied. [151]

Hsiang Liang used to instruct his nephew Chi [152] in the art of war. Chi got a rough idea of the art in its general bearings, but would not pursue his studies to their proper outcome, the consequence being that he was finally defeated and overthrown. He did not realize that the tricks and artifices of war are beyond verbal computation. Duke Hsiang of Sung [153] and King Yen of Hsü [154] were brought to destruction by their misplaced humanity. The treacherous and underhand nature of war necessitates the use of guile and stratagem suited to the occasion. There is a case on record of Confucius himself having violated an extorted oath,[155] and also of his having left the Sung State in disguise. [156] Can we then recklessly arraign Sun Tzŭ for disregarding truth and honesty? [157]

Bibliography

The following are the oldest Chinese treatises on war, after Sun Tzŭ. The notes on each have been drawn principally from the 西庫全書簡明目錄 Ssŭ k’u ch’üan shu chien ming mu lu, ch. 9, fol. 22 sqq.

1. 吳子 Wu Tzŭ, in 1 chüan or 6 篇 chapters. By 吳起 Wu Ch’i (d. 381 BC). A genuine work. See Shih Chi, ch. 65.

2. 司馬法 Ssŭ-ma Fa, in 1 chüan or 5 chapters. Wrongly attributed to 司馬穰苴 Ssŭ-ma Jang-chü of the 6th century BC. Its date, however, must be early, as the customs of the three ancient dynasties are constantly to be met within its pages. [158] See Shih Chi, ch. 64.

The Ssŭ K’u Ch’üan Shu (ch. 99, f. 1) remarks that the oldest three treatises on war, Sun Tzŭ, Wu Tzŭ and Ssŭ-ma Fa, are, generally speaking, only concerned with things strictly military⁠—the art of producing, collecting, training and drilling troops, and the correct theory with regard to measures of expediency, laying plans, transport of goods and the handling of soldiers [159]—in strong contrast to later works, in which the science of war is usually blended with metaphysics, divination and magical arts in general.

3. 六韜 Liu T’ao, in 6 chüan, or 60 chapters. Attributed to 呂望 Lü Wang (or Lü 尚 Shang, also known as 太公 T’ai Kung) of the 12th century BC. [160] But its style does not belong to the era of the Three Dynasties. [161] 陸德明 Lu Tê-ming (550⁠–⁠625 AD) mentions the work, and enumerates the headings of the six sections, 文, 武, 虎, 豹, 龍 and 犬, so that the forgery cannot have been later than Sui dynasty.

4. 尉繚子 Wei Liao Tzŭ, in 5 chüan. Attributed to Wei Liao (4th cent. BC), who studied under the famous 鬼谷子 Kuei-ku Tzŭ. The 漢志, under 兵家, mentions a book of Wei Liao in 31 chapters, whereas the text we possess contains only 24. Its matter is sound enough in the main, though the strategical devices differ considerably from those of the Warring States period. [162] It is been furnished with a commentary by the well-known Sung philosopher 張載 Chang Tsai.

5. 三略 San Lüeh in 3 chüan. Attributed to 黃石公 Huang-shih Kung, a legendary personage who is said to have bestowed it on Chang Liang (d. 187 BC) in an interview on a bridge. [163] But here again, the style is not that of works dating from the Ch’in or Han period. The Han Emperor Kuang Wu (25⁠–⁠57 AD) apparently quotes from it in one of his proclamations; but the passage in question may have been inserted later on, in order to prove the genuineness of the work. We shall not be far out if we refer it to the Northern Sung period (420⁠–⁠478 AD), or somewhat earlier. [164]

6. 李衛公問對 Li Wei Kung Wên Tui, in 3 sections. Written in the form of a dialogue between T’ai Tsung and his great general 李靖 Li Ching, it is usually ascribed to the latter. Competent authorities consider it a forgery, though the author was evidently well versed in the art of war. [165]

7. 李靖兵法 Li Ching Ping Fa (not to be confounded with the foregoing) is a short treatise in 8 chapters, preserved in the T’ung Tien, but not published separately. This fact explains its omission from the Ssŭ K’u Ch’üan Shu.

8. 握奇經 Wu Ch’i Ching,[166] in 1 chüan. Attributed to the legendary minister 風后 Fêng Hou, with exegetical notes by 公孫宏 Kung-sun Hung of the Han dynasty (d. 121 BC), and said to have been eulogized by the celebrated general 馬隆 Ma Lung (d. 300 AD). Yet the earliest mention of it is in the 宋志. Although a forgery, the work is well put together. [167]

Considering the high popular estimation in which 諸葛亮 Chu-ko Liang has always been held, it is not surprising to find more than one work on war ascribed to his pen. Such are (1) the 十六策 Shih Liu Ts’ê (1 chüan), preserved in the 永樂大典 Yung Lo Ta Tien; (2) 將苑 Chiang Yüan (1 chüan); and (3) 心書 Hsin Shu (1 chüan), which steals wholesale from Sun Tzŭ. None of these has the slightest claim to be considered genuine.

Most of the large Chinese encyclopedias contain extensive sections devoted to the literature of war. The following references may be found useful:⁠—

通典 T’ung Tien (circa 800 AD), ch. 148⁠–⁠162

太平御覧 T’ai P’ing Yu Lan (983), ch. 270⁠–⁠35.

文獻通考 Wen Hsien Tung K’ao (13th cent.), ch. 221.

玉海 Yu Hai (13th cent.), ch. 140, 141.

三才圖會 San Ts’ai T’u Hui (16th cent), 人事 ch. 7, 8.

廣博物志 Kuang Po Wu Chih (1607), ch. 31, 32.

潛確類書 Ch’ien Ch’üeh Lei Shu (1632), ch. 75.

淵鑑類函 Yüan Chien Lei Han (1710), ch. 206⁠–⁠229

古今圖書集成 Ku Chin T’u Shu Chi Ch’eng (1726), section XXX, esp. ch. 81⁠–⁠90

續文獻通考 Hsu Wen Hsien T’ung K’ao (1784), ch. 121⁠–⁠134

皇朝經世文編 Huang Ch’ao Ching Shih Wen Pien (1826), ch. 76, 77.

The bibliographical sections of certain historical works also deserve mention:⁠—

前漢書 Ch’ien Han Shu, ch. 30.

隋書 Sui Shu, ch. 32⁠–⁠35

舊唐書 Chiu T’ang Shu, ch. 46, 47.

新唐書 Hsin T’ang Shu, ch. 57,60.

宋史 Sung Shih, ch. 202⁠–⁠209

通志 T’ung Chih (circa 1150), ch. 68.

To these of course must be added the great Catalogue of the Imperial Library:⁠—

四庫全書總目提要 Ssŭ K’u Ch’üan Shu Tsung Mu T’i Yao (1790), ch. 99, 100.