Chapter V: Part 5

Cf. III. § 4. Ts‘ao Kung gives an interesting illustration from
his own experience. When invading the territory of 徐州 Hsü-chou,
he ignored the city of 華費 Hua-pi, which lay directly in his path,
and pressed on into the heart of the country. This excellent
strategy was rewarded by the subsequent capture of no fewer than
fourteen important district cities. Chang Yü says: “No town should
be attacked which, if taken, cannot be held, or if left alone,
will not cause any trouble.” 荀罃 Hsün Ying, when urged to attack
偪陽 Pi-yang, replied: “The city is small and well-fortified; even
if I succeed in taking it, ’t will be no great feat of arms;
whereas if I fail, I shall make myself a laughing-stock.” In the
seventeenth century, sieges still formed a large proportion of
war. It was Turenne who directed attention to the importance of
marches, countermarches and manœuvres. He said: “It is a great
mistake to waste men in taking a town when the same expenditure of
soldiers will gain a province.”[173]

positions which must not be contested, commands of the sovereign which must not be obeyed.

This is a hard saying for the Chinese, with their reverence for
authority, and Wei Liao Tzŭ (quoted by Tu Mu) is moved to exclaim:
兵者凶器也爭者逆德也將者死官也 “Weapons are baleful instruments,
strife is antagonistic to virtue, a military commander is the
negation of civil order!” The unpalatable fact remains, however,
that even Imperial wishes must be subordinated to military
necessity. Cf. III. § 17. (5), X. § 23. The _T‘ung Tien_ has 將在軍
before 君命, etc. This is a gloss on the words by Chu-ko Liang,
which being repeated by Tu Yu became incorporated with the text.
Chang Yü thinks that these five precepts are the 五利 referred
to in § 6. Another theory is that the mysterious 九變 are here
enumerated, starting with 圮地無舍 and ending at 地有所不爭, while
the final clause 君命有所不受 embraces and as it were sums up all
the nine. Thus Ho Shih says: “Even if it be your sovereign’s
command to encamp in difficult country, linger in isolated
positions, etc., you must not do so.” The theory is perhaps a
little too ingenious to be accepted with confidence.

4. 故將通於九變之利者知用兵矣

The general who thoroughly understands the advantages that accompany variation of tactics knows how to handle his troops.

Before 利 in the original text there is a 地 which is obviously not
required.

5. 將不通於九變之利者雖知地形不能得地之利矣

The general who does not understand these, may be well acquainted with the configuration of the country, yet he will not be able to turn his knowledge to practical account.

Literally, “get the advantage of the ground,” which means not only
securing good positions, but availing oneself of natural
advantages in every possible way. Chang Yü says: “Every kind of
ground is characterised by certain natural features, and also
gives scope for a certain variability of plan. How is it possible
to turn these natural features to account unless topographical
knowledge is supplemented by versatility of mind?”

6. 治兵不知九變之術雖知五利不能得人之用矣

So, the student of war who is unversed in the art of varying his plans, even though he be acquainted with the Five Advantages, will fail to make the best use of his men.

Ts‘ao Kung says that the 五利 are 下五事也 “the five things that
follow;” but this cannot be right. We must rather look back to the
five “variations” contained in § 3. Chia Lin (who reads 五變 here
to balance the 五利) tells us that these imply five obvious and
generally advantageous lines of action, namely: “if a certain road
is short, it must be followed; if an army is isolated, it must
be attacked; if a town is in a parlous condition, it must be
besieged; if a position can be stormed, it must be attempted; and
if consistent with military operations, the ruler’s commands must
be obeyed.” But there are circumstances which sometimes forbid a
general to use these advantages. For instance, “a certain road may
be the shortest way for him, but if he knows that it abounds in
natural obstacles, or that the enemy has laid an ambush on it, he
will not follow that road. A hostile force may be open to attack,
but if he knows that it is hard-pressed and likely to fight with
desperation, he will refrain from striking,” and so on. Here the
變 comes in to modify the 利, and hence we see the uselessness of
knowing the one without the other—of having an eye for weaknesses
in the enemy’s armour without being clever enough to recast one’s
plans on the spur of the moment. Capt. Calthrop offers this
slovenly translation: “In the management of armies, if the art of
the Nine Changes be understood [_sic_], a knowledge of the Five
Advantages is of no avail.”

7. 是故智者之慮必雜於利害

Hence in the wise leader’s plans, considerations of advantage and of disadvantage will be blended together.

“Whether in an advantageous position or a disadvantageous one,”
says Ts‘ao Kung, “the opposite state should be always present to
your mind.”

8. 雜於利而務可信也

If our expectation of advantage be tempered in this way, we may succeed in accomplishing the essential part of our schemes.

信, according to Tu Mu, is equivalent to 申, and 務可信也 is
paraphrased by Chang Yü as 可以伸己之事. Tu Mu goes on to say: “If
we wish to wrest an advantage from the enemy, we must not fix our
minds on that alone, but allow for the possibility of the enemy
also doing some harm to us, and let this enter as a factor into
our calculations.”

9. 雜於害而患可解也

If, on the other hand, in the midst of difficulties we are always ready to seize an advantage, we may extricate ourselves from misfortune.

A translator cannot emulate the conciseness of 雜於害 “to blend
[thoughts of advantage] with disadvantage,” but the meaning is as
given. Tu Mu says: “If I wish to extricate myself from a dangerous
position, I must consider not only the enemy’s ability to injure
me, but also my own ability to gain an advantage over the enemy.
If in my counsels these two considerations are properly blended,
I shall succeed in liberating myself.... For instance, if I am
surrounded by the enemy and only think of effecting an escape, the
nervelessness of my policy will incite my adversary to pursue and
crush me; it would be far better to encourage my men to deliver a
bold counter-attack, and use the advantage thus gained to free
myself from the enemy’s toils.” See the story of Ts‘ao Ts‘ao, VII.
§ 35, note. In his first edition, Capt. Calthrop translated §§ 7–9
as follows: “The wise man perceives clearly wherein lies advantage
and disadvantage. While recognising an opportunity, he does not
overlook the risks, and saves future anxiety.” This has now been
altered into: “The wise man considers well both advantage and
disadvantage. He sees a way out of adversity, _and on the day of
victory to danger is not blind_.” Owing to a needless inversion of
the Chinese, the words which I have italicised are evidently
intended to represent § 8!

10. 是故屈諸侯者以害役諸侯者以業趨諸侯者以利

Reduce the hostile chiefs by inflicting damage on them;

Chia Lin enumerates several ways of inflicting this injury, some
of which would only occur to the Oriental mind:—“Entice away the
enemy’s best and wisest men, so that he may be left without
counsellors. Introduce traitors into his country, that the
government policy may be rendered futile. Foment intrigue and
deceit, and thus sow dissension between the ruler and his
ministers. By means of every artful contrivance, cause
deterioration amongst his men and waste of his treasure. Corrupt
his morals by insidious gifts leading him into excess. Disturb and
unsettle his mind by presenting him with lovely women.” Chang Yü
(after Wang Hsi) considers the 害 to be military chastisement: “Get
the enemy,” he says, “into a position where he must suffer injury,
and he will submit of his own accord.” Capt. Calthrop twists Sun
Tzŭ’s words into an absurdly barbarous precept: “In reducing an
enemy to submission, inflict all possible damage upon him.”

make trouble for them,

業 is defined by Ts‘ao Kung as 事, and his definition is generally
adopted by the commentators. Tu Mu, however, seems to take it in
the sense of “possessions,” or, as we might say, “assets,” which
he considers to be 兵衆國富人和令行 “a large army, a rich exchequer,
harmony amongst the soldiers, punctual fulfilment of commands.”
These give us a whip-hand over the enemy.

and keep them constantly engaged;

役, literally, “make servants of them.” Tu Yu says 令不得安佚
“prevent them from having any rest.”

hold out specious allurements, and make them rush to any given point.

Mêng Shih’s note contains an excellent example of the idiomatic
use of 變: 令忘變而速至 “cause them to forget _pien_ (the reasons
for acting otherwise than on their first impulse), and hasten in
our direction.”

11. 故用兵之法無恃其不來恃吾有以待也無恃其不攻恃吾有所不可攻也

The art of war teaches us to rely not on the likelihood of the enemy’s not coming, but on our own readiness to receive him;

The _T‘ung Tien_ and _Yü Lan_ read 有能以待之也, but the conciser
form is more likely to be right.

not on the chance of his not attacking, but rather on the fact that we have made our position unassailable.

The _T‘ung Tien_ and _Yü Lan_ insert 吾也 after the first 攻, and
omit 有所.

12. 故將有五危必死可殺也必生可虜也忿速可侮也廉潔可辱也愛民可煩也

There are five dangerous faults which may affect a general: (1) Recklessness, which leads to destruction;

勇而無慮 “Bravery without forethought,” as Ts‘ao Kung analyses it,
which causes a man to fight blindly and desperately like a mad
bull. Such an opponent, says Chang Yü, “must not be encountered
with brute force, but may be lured into an ambush and slain.” Cf.
Wu Tzŭ, chap. IV _ad init._: 凡人論將常觀於勇勇之於將乃數分之一耳夫勇者
必輕合輕合而不知利未可也 “In estimating the character of a general,
men are wont to pay exclusive attention to his courage, forgetting
that courage is only one out of many qualities which a general
should possess. The merely brave man is prone to fight recklessly;
and he who fights recklessly, without any perception of what is
expedient, must be condemned.” The _Ssŭ-ma Fa_, too, makes the
incisive remark 上死不勝 “Simply going to one’s death does not bring
about victory.”

(2) cowardice, which leads to capture;

必生 is explained by Ts‘ao Kung of the man “whom timidity prevents
from advancing to seize an advantage,” and Wang Hsi adds, “who is
quick to flee at the sight of danger.” Mêng Shih gives the closer
paraphrase 志必生反 “he who is bent on returning alive,” that is,
the man who will never take a risk. But, as Sun Tzŭ knew, nothing
is to be achieved in war unless you are willing to take risks.
T‘ai Kung said: 失利後時反受其殃 “He who lets an advantage slip will
subsequently bring upon himself real disaster.” In 404 A.D., 劉裕
Liu Yü pursued the rebel 桓𤣥 Huan Hsüan up the Yangtsze and fought
a naval battle with him at 崢嶸洲 the island of Ch‘êng-hung. The
loyal troops numbered only a few thousands, while their opponents
were in great force. But Huan Hsüan, fearing the fate which was in
store for him should he be overcome, had a light boat made fast to
the side of his war-junk, so that he might escape, if necessary,
at a moment’s notice. The natural result was that the fighting
spirit of his soldiers was utterly quenched, and when the
loyalists made an attack from windward with fireships, all
striving with the utmost ardour to be first in the fray, Huan
Hsüan’s forces were routed, had to burn all their baggage and fled
for two days and nights without stopping. [_See_ 晉書, chap. 99,
fol. 13.] Chang Yü tells a somewhat similar story of 趙嬰齊 Chao
Ying-ch‘i, a general of the Chin State who during a battle with
the army of Ch‘u in 597 B.C. had a boat kept in readiness for him
on the river, wishing in case of defeat to be the first to get
across.

(3) a hasty temper, which can be provoked by insults;

I fail to see the meaning of Capt. Calthrop’s “which brings
insult.” Tu Mu tells us that 姚襄 Yao Hsiang, when opposed in 357
A.D. by 黃眉 Huang Mei, 鄧羌 Têng Ch‘iang and others, shut himself
up behind his walls and refused to fight. Têng Ch‘iang said: “Our
adversary is of a choleric temper and easily provoked; let us make
constant sallies and break down his walls, then he will grow angry
and come out. Once we can bring his force to battle, it is doomed
to be our prey.” This plan was acted upon, Yao Hsiang came out to
fight, was lured on as far as 三原 San-yuan by the enemy’s
pretended flight, and finally attacked and slain.

(4) a delicacy of honour which is sensitive to shame;

This need not be taken to mean that a sense of honour is really
a defect in a general. What Sun Tzŭ condemns is rather an
exaggerated sensitiveness to slanderous reports, the thin-skinned
man who is stung by opprobrium, however undeserved. Mei Yao-ch‘ên
truly observes, though somewhat paradoxically: 徇名不顧 “The seeker
after glory should be careless of public opinion.”

(5) over-solicitude for his men, which exposes him to worry and trouble.

Here again, Sun Tzŭ does not mean that the general is to be
careless of the welfare of his troops. All he wishes to emphasise
is the danger of sacrificing any important military advantage to
the immediate comfort of his men. This is a shortsighted policy,
because in the long run the troops will suffer more from the
defeat, or, at best, the prolongation of the war, which will be
the consequence. A mistaken feeling of pity will often induce
a general to relieve a beleaguered city, or to reinforce a
hard-pressed detachment, contrary to his military instincts. It
is now generally admitted that our repeated efforts to relieve
Ladysmith in the South African War were so many strategical
blunders which defeated their own purpose. And in the end, relief
came through the very man who started out with the distinct
resolve no longer to subordinate the interests of the whole to
sentiment in favour of a part. An old soldier of one of our
generals who failed most conspicuously in this war, tried once, I
remember, to defend him to me on the ground that he was always “so
good to his men.” By this plea, had he but known it, he was only
condemning him out of Sun Tzŭ’s mouth.

13. 凡此五者將之過也用兵之災也

These are the five besetting sins of a general, ruinous to the conduct of war.

14. 覆軍殺將必以五危不可不察也

When an army is overthrown and its leader slain, the cause will surely be found among these five dangerous faults. Let them be a subject of meditation.

IX. 行軍篇

THE ARMY ON THE MARCH.

The contents of this interesting chapter are better indicated in § 1
than by this heading.

1. 孫子曰凡處軍相敵絶山依谷

Sun Tzŭ said: We come now to the question of encamping the army, and observing signs of the enemy.

The discussion of 處軍, as Chang Yü points out, extends from here
down to 伏姦之所藏處也 (§§ 1–17), and 相敵 from that point down to
必謹察之 (§§ 18–39). The rest of the chapter consists of a few
desultory remarks, chiefly on the subject of discipline.

Pass quickly over mountains,

For this use of 絶, cf. _infra_. § 3. See also 荀子, ch. 1. fol. 2
(standard edition of 1876): 絶江河; _Shih Chi_, ch. 27 _ad init._:
後六星絶漢.

and keep in the neighbourhood of valleys.

Tu Mu says that 依 here = 近. The idea is, not to linger among
barren uplands, but to keep close to supplies of water and grass.
Capt. Calthrop translates “camp in valleys,” heedless of the very
next sentence. Cf. Wu Tzŭ, ch. 3: 無當天竈 “Abide not in natural
ovens,” _i.e._ 大谷之口 “the openings of large valleys.” Chang Yü
tells the following anecdote: “武都羗 Wu-tu Ch‘iang was a robber
captain in the time of the Later Han, and 馬援 Ma Yüan was sent to
exterminate his gang. Ch‘iang having found a refuge in the hills,
Ma Yüan made no attempt to force a battle, but seized all the
favourable positions commanding supplies of water and forage.
Ch‘iang was soon in such a desperate plight for want of provisions
that he was forced to make a total surrender. He did not know the
advantage of keeping in the neighbourhood of valleys.”

2. 視生處高戰隆無登此處山之軍也

Camp in high places,

Not on high hills, but on knolls or hillocks elevated above the
surrounding country.

facing the sun.

視生 = 面陽. Tu Mu takes this to mean “facing south,” and Ch‘ên Hao
“facing east.” Cf. _infra_, §§ 11, 13.

Do not climb heights in order to fight.

隆 is here simply equivalent to 高. The _T‘ung Tien_ and _Yü Lan_
read 降.

So much for mountain warfare.

After 山, the _T‘ung Tien_ and _Yü Lan_ insert 谷.

3. 絶水必遠水

After crossing a river, you should get far away from it.

“In order to tempt the enemy to cross after you,” according to
Ts‘ao Kung, and also, says Chang Yü, “in order not to be impeded
in your evolutions.” The _T‘ung Tien_ reads 敵若絶水 “If _the
enemy_ crosses a river,” etc. But in view of the next sentence,
this is almost certainly an interpolation.

4. 客絶水而來勿迎之於水內令半濟而擊之利

When an invading force crosses a river in its onward march, do not advance to meet it in mid-stream. It will be best to let half the army get across, and then deliver your attack.

The _T‘ung Tien_ and _Yü Lan_ read 度 for 濟, without change of
meaning. Wu Tzŭ plagiarises this passage twice over:—ch. II _ad
fin._, 涉水半渡可擊; ch. V, 敵若絶水半渡而擊. Li Ch‘üan alludes to
the great victory won by Han Hsin over 龍且 Lung Chü at the 濰 Wei
River. Turning to the _Ch‘ien Han Shu_, ch. 34, fol. 6 _verso_, we
find the battle described as follows: “The two armies were drawn
up on opposite sides of the river. In the night, Han Hsin ordered
his men to take some ten thousand sacks filled with sand and
construct a dam a little higher up. Then, leading half his army
across, he attacked Lung Chü; but after a time, pretending to have
failed in his attempt, he hastily withdrew to the other bank. Lung
Chü was much elated by this unlooked-for success, and exclaiming:
“I felt sure that Han Hsin was really a coward!” he pursued him
and began crossing the river in his turn. Han Hsin now sent a
party to cut open the sandbags, thus releasing a great volume of
water, which swept down and prevented the greater portion of Lung
Chü’s army from getting across. He then turned upon the force
which had been cut off, and annihilated it, Lung Chü himself being
amongst the slain. The rest of the army, on the further bank, also
scattered and fled in all directions.”

5. 欲戰者無附於水而迎客

If you are anxious to fight, you should not go to meet the invader near a river which he has to cross.

For fear of preventing his crossing. Capt. Calthrop makes the
injunction ridiculous by omitting 欲戰者.

6. 視生處高無迎水流此處水上之軍也

Moor your craft higher up than the enemy, and facing the sun.

See _supra_, § 2. The repetition of these words in connection with
water is very awkward. Chang Yü has the note: 或岸邊爲陳或水上泊舟皆
須面陽而居高 “Said either of troops marshalled on the river-bank,
or of boats anchored in the stream itself; in either case it is
essential to be higher than the enemy and facing the sun.” The
other commentators are not at all explicit. One is much tempted
to reject their explanation of 視生 altogether, and understand it
simply as “seeking safety.” [Cf. 必生 in VIII. § 12, and _infra_,
§ 9.] It is true that this involves taking 視 in an unusual, though
not, I think, an impossible sense. Of course the earlier passage
would then have to be translated in like manner.

Do not move up-stream to meet the enemy.

Tu Mu says: “As water flows downwards, we must not pitch our camp
on the lower reaches of a river, for fear the enemy should open
the sluices and sweep us away in a flood. This is implied above
in the words 視生處高. Chu-ko Wu-hou has remarked that ‘in river
warfare we must not advance against the stream,’ which is as
much as to say that our fleet must not be anchored below that of
the enemy, for then they would be able to take advantage of the
current and make short work of us.” There is also the danger,
noted by other commentators, that the enemy may throw poison on
the water to be carried down to us. Capt. Calthrop’s first version
was: “Do not cross rivers in the face of the stream”—a sapient
piece of advice, which made one curious to know what the correct
way of crossing rivers might be. He has now improved this into:
“Do not fight when the enemy is between the army and the source of
the river.”

So much for river warfare.

7. 絶斥澤惟亟去無留

In crossing salt-marshes, your sole concern should be to get over them quickly, without any delay.

Because of the lack of fresh water, the poor quality of the
herbage, and last but not least, because they are low, flat, and
exposed to attack.

8. 若交軍於斥澤之中必依水草而背衆樹此處斥澤之軍也

If forced to fight in a salt-marsh, you should have water and grass near you, and get your back to a clump of trees.

Li Ch‘üan remarks that the ground is less likely to be treacherous
where there are trees, while Tu Yu says that they will serve to
protect the rear. Capt. Calthrop, with a perfect genius for going
wrong, says “in the neighbourhood of a marsh.” For 若 the _T‘ung
Tien_ and _Yü Lan_ wrongly read 爲, and the latter also has 倍
instead of 背.

So much for operations in salt-marshes.

9. 平陸處易而右背高前死後生此處平陸之軍也

In dry, level country, take up an easily accessible position

This is doubtless the force of 易, its opposite being 險. Thus, Tu
Mu explains it as 坦易平穩之處 “ground that is smooth and firm,” and
therefore adapted for cavalry; Chang Yü as 坦易無坎陷之處 “level
ground, free from depressions and hollows.” He adds later on
that although Sun Tzŭ is discussing flat country, there will
nevertheless be slight elevations and hillocks.

with rising ground to your right and on your rear,

The Yü Lan again reads 倍 for 背. Tu Mu quotes T‘ai Kung as saying:
“An army should have a stream or a marsh on its left, and a hill
or tumulus on its right.”

so that the danger may be in front, and safety lie behind.

Wang Hsi thinks that 後生 contradicts the saying 視生 in § 2, and
therefore suspects a mistake in the text.

So much for campaigning in flat country.

10. 凡此四軍之利黃帝之所以勝四帝也

These are the four useful branches of military knowledge

Those, namely, concerned with (1) mountains, (2) rivers, (3)
marshes, and (4) plains. Compare Napoleon’s “Military Maxims,” no.
1.

which enabled the Yellow Emperor to vanquish four several sovereigns.

Mei Yao-ch‘ên asks, with some plausibility, whether 帝 is not a
mistake for 軍 “armies,” as nothing is known of Huang Ti having
conquered four other Emperors. The _Shih Chi_ (ch. I _ad init._)
speaks only of his victories over 炎帝 Yen Ti and 蚩尤 Ch‘ih Yu.
In the 六韜 it is mentioned that he “fought seventy battles and
pacified the Empire.” Ts‘ao Kung’s explanation is, that the Yellow
Emperor was the first to institute the feudal system of vassal
princes, each of whom (to the number of four) originally bore
the title of Emperor. Li Ch‘üan tells us that the art of war
originated under Huang Ti, who received it from his Minister 風后
Fêng Hou.

11. 凡軍喜高而惡下貴陽而賤陰

All armies prefer high ground to low,

“High ground,” says Mei Yao-ch‘ên, “is not only more agreeable and
salubrious, but more convenient from a military point of view; low
ground is not only damp and unhealthy, but also disadvantageous
for fighting.” The original text and the _T‘u Shu_ have 好 instead
of 喜.

and sunny places to dark.

12. 養生而處實軍無百疾是謂必勝

If you are careful of your men,

Ts‘ao Kung says: 向水草可放牧養畜 “Make for fresh water and pasture,
where you can turn out your animals to graze.” And the other
commentators follow him, apparently taking 生 as = 牲. Cf. Mencius,
V. 1. ix. 1, where 養牲者 means a cattle-keeper. But here 養生
surely has reference to the health of the troops. It is the title
of Chuang Tzŭ’s third chapter, where it denotes moral rather than
physical well-being.

and camp on hard ground,

實 must mean dry and solid, as opposed to damp and marshy, ground.
This is to be found as a rule in high places, so the commentators
explain 實 as practically equivalent to 高.

the army will be free from disease of every kind,

Chang Yü says: “The dryness of the climate will prevent the
outbreak of illness.”

and this will spell victory.

13. 邱陵隄防必處其陽而右背之此兵之利地之助也

When you come to a hill or a bank, occupy the sunny side, with the slope on your right rear. Thus you will at once act for the benefit of your soldiers and utilise the natural advantages of the ground.

14. 上雨水沫至欲涉者待其定也

When, in consequence of heavy rains up-country, a river which you wish to ford is swollen and flecked with foam, you must wait until it subsides.

The _T‘ung Tien_ and _Yü Lan_ have a superfluous 下 before 水.

15. 凡地有絶澗天井天牢天羅天陷天隙必亟去之勿近也

Country in which there are precipitous cliffs with torrents running between,

絶澗, explained by Mei Yao-ch‘ên as 前後險峻水橫其中.

deep natural hollows,

天井, explained as 四面峻坂澗壑所歸 “places enclosed on every side
by steep banks, with pools of water at the bottom.”

confined places,

天牢 “natural pens or prisons,” explained as 三面環絶易入難出
“places surrounded by precipices on three sides—easy to get into,
but hard to get out of.”

tangled thickets,

天羅, explained as 草木蒙密鋒鏑莫施 “places covered with such dense
undergrowth that spears cannot be used.”

quagmires

天陷, explained as 卑下汙𣾈車騎不通 “low-lying places, so heavy with
mud as to be impassible for chariots and horsemen.”

and crevasses,

天隙 is explained by Mei Yao-ch‘ên as 兩山相向洞道狹惡 “a narrow
difficult way between beetling cliffs,” but Ts‘ao Kung says
山澗迫狹地形深數尺長數丈者, which seems to denote something on a much
smaller scale. Tu Mu’s note is 地多溝坑坎陷木石 “ground covered
with trees and rocks, and intersected by numerous ravines and
pitfalls.” This is very vague, but Chia Lin explains it clearly
enough as a defile or narrow pass: 兩邊險絶形狹長而數里, and Chang
Yü takes much the same view. On the whole, the weight of the
commentators certainly inclines to the rendering “defile”. But the
ordinary meaning of 隙 (a crack or fissure) and the fact that 絶澗
above must be something in the nature of a defile, make me think
that Sun Tzŭ is here speaking of crevasses. The _T‘ung Tien_ and
_Yü Lan_ read 郄 for 隙, with the same meaning; the latter also
has 大害 after 天郄—a palpable gloss.

should be left with all possible speed and not approached.

16. 吾遠之敵近之吾迎之敵背之

While we keep away from such places, we should get the enemy to approach them; while we face them, we should let the enemy have them on his rear.

17. 軍旁有險阻蔣潢井生葭葦小林蘙薈必謹覆索之此伏姦之所藏處也

If in the neighbourhood of your camp

The original text has 軍行, but 旁 has been generally adopted as
yielding much better sense.

there should be any hilly country,

險阻 is 邱阜之地, according to Chang Yü.

ponds surrounded by aquatic grass, hollow basins filled with reeds,

The original text omits 蔣 and 生, so that 潢 and 井 join to make a
pair: “ponds and basins.” This is plausible enough at first sight,
but there are several objections to the reading: (1) 蔣 is unlikely
to have got into the text as a gloss on 潢; (2) it is easy to
suppose, on the other hand, that 蔣 and afterwards 生 (to restore
the balance of the sentence) were omitted by a copyist who jumped
to the conclusion that 潢 and 井 must go together; (3) the sense,
when one comes to consider it, actually requires 蔣, for it is
absurd to talk of pools and ponds as in themselves suitable places
for an ambush; (4) Li Ching (571–649 A. D.) in his 兵法 “Art
of War” has the words: 蔣潢蘙薈則必索其伏. This is evidently a
reminiscence of Sun Tzŭ, so there can be little doubt that 蔣 stood
in the text at this early date. It may be added that the _T‘ung
Tien_ and _Yü Lan_ both have 蔣, and the latter also reads 并 for 井.

or woods with thick undergrowth,

I read 小林 with the _Yü Lan_ in preference to 山林, given in the
original text, which is accepted by the commentators without
question. The text of the _T‘u Shu_ up to this point runs as
follows: 潢井蒹葭林木蘙薈者.

they must be carefully routed out and searched; for these are places where men in ambush or insidious spies are likely to be lurking.

The original text omits 藏, which has been restored from the _T‘ung
Tien_ and _Yü Lan_. The _T‘u 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
伏姦當爲兩事 “We must also be on our guard against traitors who may
lie in close covert, secretly spying out our weaknesses and
overhearing our instructions. _Fu_ and _chien_ are to be taken
separately.”

18. 敵近而靜者恃其險也

When the enemy is close at hand and remains quiet, he is relying on the natural strength of his position.

Here begin Sun Tzŭ’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.”

19. 遠而挑戰者欲人之進也

When he keeps aloof and tries to provoke a battle, he is anxious for the other side to advance.

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.”

20. 其所居者易利也

If his place of encampment is easy of access, he is tendering a bait.

易 is here the opposite of 險 in § 18. The reading of the _T‘ung
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.

21. 衆樹動者來也衆草多障者疑也

Movement amongst the trees of a forest shows that the enemy is advancing.

Ts‘ao 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.”

The appearance of a number of screens in the midst of thick grass means that the enemy wants to make us suspicious.

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 Ts‘ao 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 happened to come across.

22. 鳥起者伏也獸駭者覆也

The rising of birds in their flight is the sign of an ambuscade.

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.”

Startled beasts indicate that a sudden attack is coming.

An example of 覆 _fou_^4 in the meaning of “ambuscade” may be found
in the _Tso Chuan_, 隱 9th year: 君爲三覆以待之. 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 Ch‘üan defines it as 不意而至, and Tu Mu as 來襲我也.

23. 塵高而銳者車來也卑而廣者徒來也散而條達者樵採也少而往來者營軍也

When there is dust rising in a high column, it is the sign of chariots advancing; when the dust is low, but spread over a wide area, it betokens the approach of infantry.

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 (探候之人) 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.”[174]

When it branches out in different directions, it shows that parties have been sent to collect firewood.

There is some doubt about the reading 樵採. The _T‘ung Tien_ and
_Yü Lan_ have 薪採, and Li Ch‘üan proposes 薪來.

A few clouds of dust moving to and fro signify that the army is encamping.

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.”

24. 辭卑而益備者進也辭强而進驅者退也

Humble words and increased preparations are signs that the enemy is about to advance.

“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 T‘ien Tan of
the Ch‘i State, who in 279 B.C. was hard-pressed in his defence of
卽墨 Chi-mo against the Yen forces, led by 騎劫 Ch‘i Chieh. In ch.
82 of the _Shih Chi_ we read: “T‘ien Tan openly said: ‘My only
fear is that the Yen army may cut off the noses of their Ch‘i
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 T‘ien Tan sent
back converted spies who reported these words to the enemy: ‘What
I dread most is that the men of Yen may dig up the ancestral
tombs outside the town, and by inflicting this indignity on our
forefathers cause us to become faint-hearted.’ Forthwith the
besiegers dug up all the graves and burned the corpses lying in
them. And the inhabitants of Chi-mo, witnessing the outrage from
the city-walls, wept passionately and were all impatient to go out
and fight, their fury being increased tenfold. T‘ien Tan knew then
that his soldiers were ready for any enterprise. But instead of a
sword, he himself took a mattock in his hands, and ordered others
to be distributed amongst his best warriors, while the ranks were
filled up with their wives and concubines. He then served out all
the remaining rations and bade his men eat their fill. The regular
soldiers were told to keep out of sight, and the walls were manned
with the old and weaker men and with women. This done, envoys were
despatched to the enemy’s camp to arrange terms of surrender,
whereupon the Yen army began shouting for joy. T‘ien Tan also
collected 20,000 ounces of silver from the people, and got the
wealthy citizens of Chi-mo to send it to the Yen general with the
prayer that, when the town capitulated, he would not allow their
homes to be plundered or their women to be maltreated. Ch‘i Chieh,
in high good humour, granted their prayer; but his army now became
increasingly slack and careless. Meanwhile, T‘ien Tan got together
a thousand oxen, decked them with pieces of red silk, painted
their bodies, dragon-like, with coloured stripes, and fastened
sharp blades on their horns and well-greased rushes on their
tails. When night came on, he lighted the ends of the rushes, and
drove the oxen through a number of holes which he had pierced in
the walls, backing them up with a force of 5000 picked warriors.
The animals, maddened with pain, dashed furiously into the enemy’s
camp where they caused the utmost confusion and dismay; for their
tails acted as torches, showing up the hideous pattern on their
bodies, and the weapons on their horns killed or wounded any with
whom they came into contact. In the meantime, the band of 5000 had
crept up with gags in their mouths, and now threw themselves on
the enemy. At the same moment a frightful din arose in the city
itself, all those that remained behind making as much noise as
possible by banging drums and hammering on bronze vessels, until
heaven and earth were convulsed by the uproar. Terror-stricken,
the Yen army fled in disorder, hotly pursued by the men of Ch‘i,
who succeeded in slaying their general Ch‘i Chieh.... The result
of the battle was the ultimate recovery of some seventy cities
which had belonged to the Ch‘i State.”

Violent language and driving forward as if to the attack are signs that he will retreat.

I follow the original text here, also adopted by the _T‘u Shu_.
The standard text reads 辭詭而强進驅者退也 on the strength of Ts‘ao
Kung’s commentary 詭詐也, which shows that his text included
the word 詭. Strong as this ground is, I do not think it can
counterbalance the obvious superiority of the other reading in
point of sense. 詭 not only provides no antithesis to 卑, but makes
the whole passage absurd; for if the language of the enemy is
calculated to deceive, it cannot be known as deceitful at the
time, and can therefore afford no “sign.” Moreover, the extra word
in 强進驅者 (an awkward locution, by the way) spoils the parallelism
with 益備者.

25. 輕車先出居其側者陳也

When the light chariots

The same, according to Tu Yu, as the 馳車 of II. § 1.

come out first and take up a position on the wings, it is a sign that the enemy is forming for battle.

The _T‘ung Tien_ omits 出.

26. 無約而請和者謀也

Peace proposals unaccompanied by a sworn covenant indicate a plot.

Tu Yu defines 約 as 要約, and Li Ch‘üan as 質盟之約 “a treaty
confirmed by oaths and hostages.” Wang Hsi and Chang Yü, on the
other hand, simply say 無故 “without reason,” “on a frivolous
pretext,” as though 約 bore the rather unusual sense of
“important.” Capt. Calthrop has “without consultation,” which is
too loose.

27. 奔走而陳兵者期也

When there is much running about

Every man hastening to his proper place under his own regimental
banner.

and the soldiers fall into rank,

I follow the _T‘u Shu_ in omitting 車 after 兵. Tu Mu quotes the
_Chou Li_, ch. xxix. fol. 31: 車驟徒趨及表乃止.

it means that the critical moment has come.

What Chia Lin calls 晷刻之期, as opposed to 尋常之期.

28. 半進半退者誘也

When some are seen advancing and some retreating, it is a lure.

Capt. Calthrop is hardly right in translating: “An advance,
followed by sudden retirement.” It is rather a case of feigned
confusion. As Tu Mu says: 僞爲雜亂不整之狀.

29. 倚仗而立者飢也

When the soldiers stand leaning on their spears, they are faint from want of food.

仗 is here probably not a synonym for 倚, but = 兵 “a weapon.” The
original text has 杖而立者, which has been corrected from the
_T‘ung Tien_ and _Yü Lan_.

30. 汲而先飮者渴也

If those who are sent to draw water begin by drinking themselves, the army is suffering from thirst.

As Tu Mu remarks: 覩一人三軍可知也 “One may know the condition of a
whole army from the behaviour of a single man.” The 先 may mean
either that they drink before drawing water for the army, or before
they return to camp. Chang Yü takes the latter view. The _T‘ung
Tien_ has the faulty reading 汲役先飮者, and the _Yü Lan_, worse
still, 汲設飮者.

31. 見利而不進者勞也

If the enemy sees an advantage to be gained

Not necessarily “booty,” as Capt. Calthrop translates it. The
_T‘ung Tien_ and _Yü Lan_ read 向人見利, etc.

and makes no effort to secure it, the soldiers are exhausted.

32. 鳥集者虛也夜呼者恐也

If birds gather on any spot, it is unoccupied.

A useful fact to bear in mind when, for instance, as Ch‘ên Hao
says, the enemy has secretly abandoned his camp.

Clamour by night betokens nervousness.

Owing to false alarms; or, as Tu Mu explains it: 恐懼不安故夜呼以
自壯也 “Fear makes men restless; so they fall to shouting at night
in order to keep up their courage.” The _T‘ung Tien_ inserts 喧
before 呼.

33. 軍擾者將不重也旌旗動者亂也吏怒者倦也

If there is disturbance in the camp, the general’s authority is weak. If the banners and flags are shifted about, sedition is afoot.

The _T‘ung Tien_ and _Yü Lan_ omit 旌.

If the officers are angry, it means that the men are weary.

And therefore, as Capt. Calthrop says, slow to obey. Tu Yu
understands the sentence differently: “If all the officers of an
army are angry with their general, it means that they are broken
with fatigue” [owing to the exertions which he has demanded from
them].

34. 粟馬肉食軍無懸缻不返其舍者窮宼也

When an army feeds its horses with grain and kills its cattle for food,

粟馬肉食 is expanded by Mei Yao-ch‘ên (following Tu Mu) into
給糧以𥞊乎馬殺畜以饗乎士, which is the sense I have given above. In
the ordinary course of things, the men would be fed on grain and
the horses chiefly on grass.

and when the men do not hang their cooking-pots

The _T‘ung Tien_ reads 缶, which is much the same as 缻, and the _Yü
Lan_ 箠, which is manifestly wrong.

over the camp-fires, showing that they will not return to their tents,

For 返, the _T‘ung Tien_ and _Yü Lan_ both read 及.

you may know that they are determined to fight to the death.

For 窮宼, see VII. § 36. I may quote here the illustrative passage
from the _Hou Han Shu_, ch. 71, given in abbreviated form by
the _P‘ei Wên Yün Fu_: “The rebel 王國 Wang Kuo of 梁 Liang was
besieging the town of 陳倉 Ch‘ên-ts‘ang, and 皇甫嵩 Huang-fu Sung,
who was in supreme command, and 董卓 Tung Cho were sent out against
him. The latter pressed for hasty measures, but Sung turned a deaf
ear to his counsel. At last the rebels were utterly worn out, and
began to throw down their weapons of their own accord. Sung was
now for advancing to the attack, but Cho said: ‘It is a principle
of war not to pursue desperate men and not to press a retreating
host.’ Sung answered: ‘That does not apply here. What I am about
to attack is a jaded army, not a retreating host; with disciplined
troops I am falling on a disorganised multitude, not a band of
desperate men.’ Thereupon he advanced to the attack unsupported by
his colleague, and routed the enemy, Wang Kuo being slain.” The
inferior reading of the _T‘u Shu_ for § 34 is as follows: 殺馬肉食者
軍無糧也懸缻不返其舍者窮宼也. The first clause strikes me as rather
shallow for Sun Tzŭ, and it is hard to make anything of 懸缻 in
the second without the negative. Capt. Calthrop, nothing daunted,
set down in his first edition: “When they _cast away_ their
cooking-pots.” He now has: “When the cooking-pots are hung up on
the wall.”

35. 諄諄翕翕徐言入入者失衆也

The sight of men whispering together

諄諄 is well explained by Tu Mu as 乏氣聲促 “speaking with bated
breath.”

in small knots

The _Shuo Wên_ rather strangely defines 翕 by the word 起, but the
_Êrh Ya_ says 合 “to join” or “contract,” which is undoubtedly its
primary meaning. Chang Yü is right, then, in explaining it here by
the word 聚. The other commentators are very much at sea: Ts‘ao
Kung says 失志貌, Tu Yu 不眞, Tu Mu 顚倒失次貌, Chia Lin 不安貌, Mei
Yao-ch‘ên 曠職事, Wang Hsi 患其上.

or speaking in subdued tones

入入 is said to be the same as 如如.

points to disaffection amongst the rank and file.

失衆 is equivalent to 失其衆心, the subject of course being “the
general,” understood. In the original text, which seems to be
followed by several commentators, the whole passage stands thus:
諄諄翕翕徐與人言者失衆也. Here it would be the general who is talking
to his men, not the men amongst themselves. For 翕, which is the
chief stumbling-block in the way of this reading, the _T‘u Shu_
gives the very plausible emendation 𧬈 (also read _hsi_, and
defined by K‘ang Hsi as 疾言 “to speak fast”). But this is
unnecessary if we keep to the standard text.

36. 屢賞者窘也數罰者困也

Too frequent rewards signify that the enemy is at the end of his resources;

Because, when an army is hard pressed, as Tu Mu says, there is
always a fear of mutiny, and lavish rewards are given to keep the
men in good temper.

too many punishments betray a condition of dire distress.

Because in such case discipline becomes relaxed, and unwonted
severity is necessary to keep the men to their duty.

37. 先暴而後畏其衆者不精之至也

To begin by bluster, but afterwards to take fright at the enemy’s numbers, shows a supreme lack of intelligence.

I follow the interpretation of Ts‘ao Kung: 先輕敵後聞其衆則心惡之也,
also adopted by Li Ch‘üan, Tu Mu and Chang Yü. Another possible
meaning, set forth by Tu Yu, Chia Lin, Mei Yao-ch‘ên and Wang Hsi,
is: “The general who is first tyrannical towards his men, and then
in terror lest they should mutiny, etc.” This would connect the
sentence with what went before about rewards and punishments. The
_T‘ung Tien_ and _Yü Lan_ read 情 “affection” instead of 精.

38. 來委謝者欲休息也

When envoys are sent with compliments in their mouths, it is a sign that the enemy wishes for a truce.

Tu Mu says: 所以委質來謝此乃勢已窮或有他故必欲休息也 “If the enemy
open friendly relations by sending hostages, it is a sign that
they are anxious for an armistice, either because their strength
is exhausted or for some other reason.” But it hardly needs a Sun
Tzŭ to draw such an obvious inference; and although Tu Mu is
supported by Mei Yao-ch‘ên and Chang Yü, I cannot think that
hostages are indicated by the word 委.

39. 兵怒而相迎久而不合又不相去必謹察之

If the enemy’s troops march up angrily and remain facing ours for a long time without either joining battle or taking themselves off again, the situation is one that demands great vigilance and circumspection.

Capt. Calthrop falls into a trap which often lurks in the word 相.
He translates: “When both sides, eager for a fight, face each
other for a considerable time, neither advancing nor retiring,”
etc. Had he reflected a little, he would have seen that this is
meaningless as addressed to a commander who has control over the
movements of his own troops. 相迎, then, does not mean that the two
armies go to meet each other, but simply that the other side comes
up to us. Likewise with 相去. If this were not perfectly clear of
itself, Mei Yao-ch‘ên’s paraphrase would make it so: 怒而來逆我,
etc. As Ts‘ao Kung points out, a manœuvre of this sort may be only
a _ruse_ to gain time for an unexpected flank attack or the laying
of an ambush.

40. 兵非益多也惟無武進足以倂力料敵取人而已

If our troops are no more in number than the enemy, that is amply sufficient;

Wang Hsi’s paraphrase, partly borrowed from Ts‘ao Kung, is
權力均足矣. Another reading, adopted by Chia Lin and the _T‘u Shu_,
is 兵非貴益多, which Capt. Calthrop renders, much too loosely:
“Numbers are no certain mark of strength.”

it only means that no direct attack can be made.

Literally, “no martial advance.” That is to say, 正 “_chêng_”
tactics and frontal attacks must be eschewed, and stratagem
resorted to instead.

What we can do is simply to concentrate all our available strength, keep a close watch on the enemy, and obtain reinforcements.

This is an obscure sentence, and none of the commentators succeed
in squeezing very good sense out of it. The difficulty lies
chiefly in the words 取人, which have been taken in every possible
way. I follow Li Ch‘üan, who appears to offer the simplest
explanation: 惟得人者勝也 “Only the side that gets more men will
win.” Ts‘ao Kung’s note, concise as usual to the verge of
incomprehensibility, is 厮養足也. Fortunately we have Chang Yü to
expound its meaning to us in language which is lucidity itself:
兵力既均又未見便雖未足剛進足以取人於厮養之中以并兵合力察敵而取勝不必假他
兵以助己 “When the numbers are even, and no favourable opening
presents itself, although we may not be strong enough to deliver
a sustained attack, we can find additional recruits amongst our
sutlers and camp-followers, and then, concentrating our forces
and keeping a close watch on the enemy, contrive to snatch the
victory. But we must avoid borrowing foreign soldiers to help us.”
He then quotes from Wei Liao Tzŭ, ch. 3: 助卒名爲十萬其實不過數萬耳
“The nominal strength of mercenary troops may be 100,000, but
their real value will be not more than half that figure.”
According to this interpretation, 取人 means “to get recruits,” not
from outside, but from the tag-rag and bobtail which follows in
the wake of a large army. This does not sound a very soldierly
suggestion, and I feel convinced that it is not what Sun Tzŭ
meant. Chia Lin, on the other hand, takes the words in a different
sense altogether, namely “to conquer the enemy” [cf. I. § 20]. But
in that case they could hardly be followed by 而已. Better than
this would be the rendering “to make isolated captures,” as
opposed to 武進 “a general attack.”

41. 夫惟無慮而易敵者必擒於人

He who exercises no forethought but makes light of his opponents is sure to be captured by them.

The force of 夫惟 is not easy to appreciate. Ch‘én Hao says 殊無遠慮
但輕敵者, thus referring 惟 to the second verb. He continues, quoting
from the _Tso Chuan_: 蜂蠆有毒而况國乎則小敵亦不可輕 “If bees and
scorpions carry poison, how much more will a hostile state! [僖公,
XXII. 3.] Even a puny opponent, then, should not be treated with
contempt.”

42. 卒未親附而罰之則不服不服則難用也卒已親附而罰不行則不可用也

If soldiers are punished before they have grown attached to you, they will not prove submissive; and, unless submissive, they will be practically useless. If, when the soldiers have become attached to you, punishments are not enforced, they will still be useless.

This is wrongly translated by Capt. Calthrop: “If the troops know
the general, but are not affected by his punishments, they are
useless.”

43. 故令之以文齊之以武是謂必取

Therefore soldiers must be treated in the first instance with humanity, but kept under control by means of iron discipline.

文 and 武, according to Ts‘ao Kung, are here equivalent to 仁 and
法 respectively. Compare our two uses of the word “civil.” 晏子 Yen
Tzŭ [✝ B.C. 493] said of 司馬穰苴 Ssŭ-ma Jang-chü: 文能附衆武能威敵也
“His civil virtues endeared him to the people; his martial prowess
kept his enemies in awe.” Cf. Wu Tzŭ, ch. 4 _init_.: 夫總文武者軍之
將也兼剛柔者兵之事也 “The ideal commander unites culture with a
warlike temper; the profession of arms requires a combination
of hardness and tenderness.” Again I must find fault with Capt.
Calthrop’s translation: “By humane treatment we obtain obedience;
authority brings uniformity.”

This is a certain road to victory.

44. 令素行以教其民則民服令不素行以教其民則民不服

If in training soldiers commands are habitually enforced, the army will be well-disciplined; if not, its discipline will be bad.

The _T‘ung Tien_ and _Yü Lan_ read: 令素行以教其人者也令素行則人服令素
不行則人不服.

45. 令素信著者與衆相得也

If a general shows confidence in his men but always insists on his orders being obeyed,

The original text has 令素行者. 令素 is certainly awkward without
行, but on the other hand it is clear that Tu Mu accepted the
_T‘ung Tien_ text, which is identical with ours. He says: “A
general ought in time of peace to show kindly confidence in his
men and also make his authority respected, so that when they
come to face the enemy, orders may be executed and discipline
maintained, because they all trust and look up to him.” What Sun
Tzŭ has said in § 44, however, would lead one rather to expect
something like this: “If a general is always confident that his
orders will be carried out,” etc. Hence I am tempted to think that
he may have written 令素信行者. But this is perhaps too conjectural.

the gain will be mutual.