The Art of War Sun Tzu (most read books of all time txt) 📖

Tʽung Tien and Yü Lan. The Tʽu Shu omits 處 as well, making 所 a substantive. On 姦 Chang Yü has the note: 又慮姦細潛隱覘我虛實聽我號令伏姦當為兩事 “We must also be on our guard against traitors who may lie in close covert, secretly spying out our weaknesses and overhearing out instructions. Fu and chien are to be taken separately.” ↩

Here begin Sun Tzǔ’s remarks on the reading of signs, much of which is so good that it could almost be included in a modern manual like Gen. Baden-Powell’s Aids to Scouting. ↩

Probably because we are in a strong position from which he wishes to dislodge us. “If he came close up to us,” says Tu Mu, “and tried to force a battle, he would seem to despise us, and there would be less probability of our responding to the challenge.” ↩

易 is here the opposite of 險 used previously (“When the enemy is close at hand⁠ ⁠…”). The reading of the Tʽung Tien and Yü Lan, 其所處者居易利也, is pretty obviously corrupt. The original text, which transposes 易 and 者, may very possibly be right. Tu Mu tells us that there is yet another reading: 士爭其所居者易利也. ↩

Tsʽao Kung explains this as “felling trees to clear a passage,” and Chang Yü says: “Every army sends out scouts to climb high places and observe the enemy. If a scout sees that the trees of a forest are moving and shaking, he may know that they are being cut down to clear a passage for the enemy’s march.” ↩

Whenever the meaning of a passage happens to be somewhat elusive, Capt. Calthrop seems to consider himself justified in giving free rein to the imagination. Thus, though his text is here identical with ours, he renders the above: “Broken branches and trodden grass, as of the passing of a large host, must be regarded with suspicion.” Tu Yu’s explanation, borrowed from Tsʽao Kung, is as follows: “The presence of a number of screens or sheds in the midst of thick vegetation is a sure sign that the enemy has fled and, fearing pursuit, has constructed these hiding-places in order to make us suspect an ambush.” It appears that these “screens” were hastily knotted together out of any long grass which the retreating enemy happended to come across. ↩

Chang Yü’s explanation is doubtless right: “When birds that are flying along in a straight line suddenly shoot upwards, it means that soldiers are in ambush at the spot beneath.” ↩

As example of 覆 fou⁴ in the meaning of “ambuscade” may be found in the Tso Chuan, 隱 9th year: 君為三覆以待之. In the present passage, however, it is to be distinguished from 伏 just above, in that it implies onward motion on the part of the attacking force. Thus, Li Chʽüan defines it as 不意而至, and Tu Mu as 來襲我也. ↩

高而銳 “high and sharp,” or rising to a peak, is of course somewhat exaggerated as applied to dust. The commentators explain the phenomenon by saying that horses and chariots, being heavier than men, raise more dust, and also follow one another in the same wheel-track, whereas foot-soldiers would be marching in ranks, many abreast. According to Chang Yü, “every army on the march must have scouts (探侯之人) some way in advance, who on sighting dust raised by the enemy, will gallop back and report it to the commander-in-chief.” Cf. Gen. Baden-Powell: “As you move along, say, in a hostile country, your eyes should be looking afar for the enemy or any signs of him: figures, dust rising, birds getting up, glitter of arms, etc.”781 ↩

There is some doubt about the reading 樵採. The Tʽung Tien and Yü Lan have 薪採, and Li Chʽüan proposes 薪來. ↩

Chang Yü says: “In apportioning the defences for a cantonment, light horse will be sent out to survey the position and ascertain the weak and strong points all along its circumference. Hence the small quantity of dust and its motion.” ↩

“As though they stood in great fear of us,” says Tu Mu. “Their object is to make us contemptuous and careless, after which they will attack us.” Chang Yü alludes to the story of 田單 Tʽien Tan of the Chʽi State, who in 279 BC was hard-pressed in his defence of 即墨 Chi-mo against the Yen forces, led by 騎劫 Chʽi Chieh. In ch. 82 of the Shih Chi we read: “Tʽien Tan openly said: ‘My only fear is that the Yen army may cut off the noses of their Chʽi prisoners and place them in the front rank to fight against us; that would be the undoing of our city.’ The other side being informed of this speech, at once acted on the suggestion; but those within the city were enraged at seeing their fellow-countrymen thus mutilated, and fearing only lest they should fall into the enemy’s hands, were nerved to defend themselves more obstinately than ever. Once again Tʽien Tan sent back converted spies who reported these words to