Tsʽao Kung explains 誅 by 治, and Ho Shih by 責成. Another reading is 謀, and Mei Yao-chʽên, adopting this, understands the whole sentence to mean: Take the strictest precautions to ensure secrecy in your deliberations. Capt. Calthrop glides rather too smoothly over the rough places. His translation is: “conduct the business of the government with vigilance.” ↩
This looks a very simple sentence, yet Tsʽao Kung is the only commentator who takes it as I have done. Mêng Shih, followed by Mei Yao-chʽên and Chang Yü, defines 開闔 as 間者 “spies,” and makes 入 an active verb: “If spies come from the enemy, we must quickly let them in.” But I cannot find that the words 開闔 have this meaning anywhere else. On the other hand, they may be taken as two verbs, 或開或闔, expressing the enemy’s indecision whether to advance or retreat, that being the best moment to attack him. (Cf. Tao Tê Ching, chap. X: 天門開闔能為雌平; also Li Chi, 曲禮, I II 25.) It is not easy to choose between this and Tsʽao Kung’s explanation; the fact that 敵人開戶 occurs shortly afterwards, in the last paragraph of the chapter, might be adduced in support of either. 必 must be understood in the sense of 宜 or 當. The only way to avoid this is to put 開闔 between commas and translate: “If we leave a door open, the enemy is sure to rush in.” ↩
Capt. Calthrop hardly attempts to translate this difficult paragraph, but invents the following instead: “Discover what he most values, and plan to seize it.” Chʽên Hao’s explanation, however, is clear enough: 我若先奪便地而敵不至雖有其利亦奚用之是以欲取其愛惜之處必先微與敵人相期誤之使必至 “If I manage to seize a favourable position, but the enemy does not appear on the scene, the advantage thus obtained cannot be turned to any practical account. He who intends, therefore, to occupy a position of importance to the enemy, must begin by making an artful appointment, so to speak, with his antagonist, and cajole him into going there as well.” Mei Yao-chʽên explains that this “artful appointment” is to be made through the medium of the enemy’s own spies, who will carry back just the amount of information that we choose to give them. Then, having cunningly disclosed our intentions, 我後人發先人至 “we must manage, though starting after the enemy, to arrive before him” (chapter VII, “Thus, to take a long and circuitous route …”). We must start after him in order to ensure his marching thither; we must arrive before him in order to capture the place without trouble. Taken thus, the present passage lends some support to Mei Yao-chʽên’s interpretation of the earlier passage “On contentious ground, I would hurry up my rear.” ↩
墨 stands for 繩墨 “a marking-line,” hence a rule of conduct. See Mencius VII 1 XLI 2. Tsʽao Kung explains it by the similar metaphor 規矩 “square and compasses.” The baldness of the sentiment rather inclines me to favour the reading 剗 adopted by Chia Lin in place of 踐, which yields an exactly opposite sense, namely: “Discard hard and fast rules.” Chia Lin says: 惟勝是利不可守以繩墨而為 “Victory is the only thing that matters, and this cannot be achieved by adhering to conventional canons.” It is unfortunate that this variant rests on very slight authority, for the sense yielded is certainly much more satisfactory. Napoleon, as we know, according to the veterans of the old school whom he defeated, won his battles by violating every accepted canon of warfare. ↩
The last four words of the Chinese are omitted by Capt. Calthrop. Tu Mu says: 隨敵人之形若有可乘之勢則出而決戰 “Conform to the enemy’s tactics until a favourable opportunity offers; then come forth and engage in a battle that shall prove decisive.” ↩
As the hare is noted for its extreme timidity, the comparison hardly appears felicitous. But of course Sun Tzǔ was thinking only of its speed. The words have been taken to mean: You must flee from the enemy as quickly as an escaping hare; but this is rightly rejected by Tu Mu. Capt. Calthrop is wrong in translating 兔 “rabbit.” Rabbits are not indigenous to China, and were certainly not known there in the 6th century BC. The last sixteen characters evidently form a sort of four-line jingle. Chap. X, it may be remembered, closed in similar fashion. ↩
Rather more than half the chapter (up to “Hence those who use fire …”) is devoted to the subject of fire, after which the author branches off into other topics. ↩
So Tu Mu. Li Chʽüan says: 焚其營殺其士卒也 “Set fire to the camp, and kill the soldiers” (when they try to escape from the flames). Pan Chʽao, sent on a diplomatic mission to the King of Shan-shan (see XI,