Chapter VII: Part 7

The word in the Chinese is 涕 “snivel.” This is taken to indicate
more genuine grief than tears alone.

those sitting up bedewing their garments, and those lying down letting the tears run down their cheeks.

Not because they are afraid, but because, as Ts‘ao Kung says,
皆持必死之計 “all have embraced the firm resolution to do or
die.” We may remember that the heroes of the Iliad were equally
childlike in showing their emotion. Chang Yü alludes to the
mournful parting at the 易 I River between 荆軻 Ching K‘o and his
friends, when the former was sent to attempt the life of the King
of Ch‘in (afterwards First Emperor) in 227 B.C. The tears of all
flowed down like rain as he bade them farewell and uttered the
following lines: 風蕭蕭兮，易水寒，壯士一去兮，不復還 “The shrill blast
is blowing, Chilly the burn; Your champion is going—Not to
return.”[179]

But let them once be brought to bay, and they will display the courage of a Chu or a Kuei.

諸 was the personal name of 專諸 Chuan Chu, a native of the Wu
State and contemporary with Sun Tzŭ himself, who was employed by
公子光 Kung-tzŭ Kuang, better known as Ho Lü Wang, to assassinate
his sovereign 王僚 Wang Liao with a dagger which he secreted in
the belly of a fish served up at a banquet. He succeeded in his
attempt, but was immediately hacked to pieces by the king’s
bodyguard. This was in 515 B.C. The other hero referred to, 曹劌
Ts‘ao Kuei (or Ts‘ao 沫 Mo), performed the exploit which has made
his name famous 166 years earlier, in 681 B.C. Lu had been
thrice defeated by Ch‘i, and was just about to conclude a treaty
surrendering a large slice of territory, when Ts‘ao Kuei suddenly
seized 桓公 Huan Kung, the Duke of Ch‘i, as he stood on the altar
steps and held a dagger against his chest. None of the Duke’s
retainers dared to move a muscle, and Ts‘ao Kuei proceeded to
demand full restitution, declaring that Lu was being unjustly
treated because she was a smaller and weaker state. Huan Kung, in
peril of his life, was obliged to consent, whereupon Ts‘ao Kuei
flung away his dagger and quietly resumed his place amid the
terrified assemblage without having so much as changed colour. As
was to be expected, the Duke wanted afterwards to repudiate the
bargain, but his wise old counsellor 管仲 Kuan Chung pointed out
to him the impolicy of breaking his word, and the upshot was that
this bold stroke regained for Lu the whole of what she had lost
in three pitched battles. [For another anecdote of Ts‘ao Kuei see
VII. § 27, note; and for the biographies of these three bravos,
Ts‘ao, Chuan and Ching, see _Shih Chi_, ch. 86.]

29. 故善用兵譬如率然率然者常山之虵也擊其首則尾至擊其尾則首至擊其中則首尾俱至

The skilful tactician may be likened to the _shuai-jan_. Now the _shuai-jan_ is a snake that is found in the Ch‘ang mountains.

率然 means “suddenly” or “rapidly,” and the snake in question
was doubtless so called owing to the rapidity of its movements.
Through this passage, the term has now come to be used in the
sense of “military manœuvres.” The 常山 have apparently not been
identified.

Strike at its head, and you will be attacked by its tail; strike at its tail, and you will be attacked by its head; strike at its middle,

Another reading in the _Yü Lan_ for 中 is 腹 “belly.”

and you will be attacked by head and tail both.

30. 敢問兵可使如率然乎曰可夫吳人與越人相惡也當其同舟而濟遇風其相救也如左右手

Asked if an army can be made to imitate the _shuai-jan_,

That is, as Mei Yao-ch‘ên says, 可使兵首尾率然相應如一體乎 “Is it
possible to make the front and rear of an army each swiftly
responsive to attack on the other, just as though they were parts
of a single living body?”

I should answer, Yes. For the men of Wu and the men of Yüeh are enemies;

Cf. VI. § 21.

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.

The meaning is: If two enemies will help each other in a time
of common peril, how much more should two parts of the same
army, bound together as they are by every tie of interest and
fellow-feeling. Yet it is notorious that many a campaign has been
ruined through lack of co-operation, especially in the case of
allied armies.

31. 是故方馬埋輪未足恃也

Hence it is not enough to put one’s trust in the tethering of horses,

方 is said here to be equivalent to 縛.

and the burying of chariot wheels in the ground.

These quaint devices to prevent one’s army from running away
recall the Athenian hero Sôphanes, who carried an anchor with him
at the battle of Plataea, by means of which he fastened himself
firmly to one spot. [See Herodotus, IX. 74.] It is not enough,
says Sun Tzŭ, to render flight impossible by such mechanical
means. You will not succeed unless your men have tenacity and
unity of purpose, and, above all, a spirit of sympathetic
co-operation. This is the lesson which can be learned from the
_shuai-jan_.

32. 齊勇若一政之道也

The principle on which to manage an army is to set up one standard of courage which all must reach.

Literally, “level the courage [of all] as though [it were that of]
one.” If the ideal army is to form a single organic whole, then it
follows that the resolution and spirit of its component parts
must be of the same quality, or at any rate must not fall below a
certain standard. Wellington’s seemingly ungrateful description of
his army at Waterloo as “the worst he had ever commanded” meant no
more than that it was deficient in this important particular—unity
of spirit and courage. Had he not foreseen the Belgian defections
and carefully kept those troops in the background, he would almost
certainly have lost the day.

33. 剛柔皆得地之理也

How to make the best of both strong and weak—that is a question involving the proper use of ground.

This is rather a hard sentence on the first reading, but the key
to it will be found, firstly, in the pause after 得, and next, in
the meaning of 得 itself. The best equivalent for this that I
can think of is the German “zur Geltung kommen.” Mei Yao-ch‘ên’s
paraphrase is: 兵無强弱皆得用者是因地之勢也 “The way to eliminate the
differences of strong and weak and to make both serviceable is to
utilise accidental features of the ground.” Less reliable troops,
if posted in strong positions, will hold out as long as better
troops on more exposed terrain. The advantage of position
neutralises the inferiority in stamina and courage. Col. Henderson
says: “With all respect to the text books, and to ordinary
tactical teaching, I am inclined to think that the study of ground
is often overlooked, and that by no means sufficient importance
is attached to the selection of positions ... and to the immense
advantages that are to be derived, whether you are defending or
attacking, from the proper utilisation of natural features.”[180]

34. 故善用兵者攜手若使一人不得已也

Thus the skilful general conducts his army just as though he were leading a single man, willy-nilly, by the hand.

Tu Mu says: 喩易也 “The simile has reference to the ease with which
he does it.” 不得已 means that he makes it impossible for his
troops to do otherwise than obey. Chang Yü quotes a jingle, to be
found in Wu Tzŭ, ch. 4: 將之所揮，莫不從移，將之所指，莫不前死.

35. 將軍之事靜以幽正以治

It is the business of a general to be quiet and thus ensure secrecy; upright and just, and thus maintain order.

靜 seems to combine the meanings “noiseless” and “imperturbable,”
both of which attributes would of course conduce to secrecy. Tu Mu
explains 幽 as 幽深難測 “deep and inscrutable,” and 正 as 平正無偏
“fair and unbiassed.” Mei Yao-ch‘ên alone among the commentators
takes 治 in the sense of 自治 “self-controlled.” 幽 and 治 are
causally connected with 靜 and 正 respectively. This is not brought
out at all in Capt. Calthrop’s rendering: “The general should be
calm, inscrutable, just and prudent.” The last adjective,
moreover, can in no sense be said to represent 治.

36. 能愚士卒之耳目使之無知

He must be able to mystify his officers and men by false reports and appearances,

Literally, “to deceive their eyes and ears”—愚 being here used as
a verb in the sense of 誤.

and thus keep them in total ignorance.

Ts‘ao Kung gives us one of his excellent apophthegms: 民可與樂成
不可與慮始 “The troops must not be allowed to share your schemes
in the beginning; they may only rejoice with you over their happy
outcome.” “To mystify, mislead, and surprise the enemy,” is one of
the first principles in war, as has been frequently pointed out.
But how about the other process—the mystification of one’s own
men? Those who may think that Sun Tzŭ is over-emphatic on this
point would do well to read Col. Henderson’s remarks on Stonewall
Jackson’s Valley campaign: “The infinite pains,” he says, “with
which Jackson sought to conceal, even from his most trusted staff
officers, his movements, his intentions, and his thoughts, a
commander less thorough would have pronounced useless”—etc.
etc.[181] In the year 88 A.D., as we read in ch. 47 of the _Hou
Han Shu_, “Pan Ch‘ao took the field with 25,000 men from Khotan
and other Central Asian states with the object of crushing
Yarkand. The King of Kutcha replied by dispatching his chief
commander to succour the place with an army drawn from the
kingdoms of Wên-su, Ku-mo and Wei-t‘ou, totalling 50,000 men. Pan
Ch‘ao summoned his officers and also the King of Khotan to a
council of war, and said: ‘Our forces are now outnumbered and
unable to make head against the enemy. The best plan, then, is for
us to separate and disperse, each in a different direction. The
King of Khotan will march away by the easterly route, and I will
then return myself towards the west. Let us wait until the evening
drum has sounded and then start.’ Pan Ch‘ao now secretly released
the prisoners whom he had taken alive, and the King of Kutcha was
thus informed of his plans. Much elated by the news, the latter
set off at once at the head of 10,000 horsemen to bar Pan Ch‘ao’s
retreat in the west, while the King of Wên-su rode eastwards with
8000 horse in order to intercept the King of Khotan. As soon as
Pan Ch‘ao knew that the two chieftains had gone, he called his
divisions together, got them well in hand, and at cock-crow
hurled them against the army of Yarkand, as it lay encamped. The
barbarians, panic-stricken, fled in confusion, and were closely
pursued by Pan Ch‘ao. Over 5000 heads were brought back as
trophies, besides immense spoils in the shape of horses and cattle
and valuables of every description. Yarkand then capitulating,
Kutcha and the other kingdoms drew off their respective forces.
From that time forward, Pan Ch‘ao’s prestige completely overawed
the countries of the west.” In this case, we see that the Chinese
general not only kept his own officers in ignorance of his real
plans, but actually took the bold step of dividing his army in
order to deceive the enemy.

37. 易其事革其謀使人無識易其居迂其途使人不得慮

By altering his arrangements and changing his plans,

Wang Hsi thinks that this means, not using the same stratagem
twice. He says: 已行之事已施之謀當革易之不可再之.

he keeps the enemy without definite knowledge.

Note that 人 denotes the _enemy_, as opposed to the 士卒 of § 36.
Capt. Calthrop, not perceiving this, joins the two paragraphs into
one. Chang Yü quotes 太白山人 as saying: 兵貴詭道者非止詭敵也抑詭我
士卒使由而不使知之也 “The axiom, that war is based on deception,
does not apply only to deception of the enemy. You must deceive
even your own soldiers. Make them follow you, but without letting
them know why.”

By shifting his camp and taking circuitous routes, he prevents the enemy from anticipating his purpose.

Wang Hsi paraphrases 易其居 as 處易者 “camp on easy ground,” and
Chang Yü follows him, saying: 其居則去險而就易. But this is an
utterly untenable view. For 迂其途, cf. VII. 4. Chia Lin, retaining
his old interpretation of those words, is now obliged to explain
易其居 as “cause the enemy to shift his camp,” which is awkward in
the extreme.

38. 帥與之期如登高而去其梯帥與之深入諸侯之地而發其機

At the critical moment, the leader of an army acts like one who has climbed up a height and then kicks away the ladder behind him.

I must candidly confess that I do not understand the syntax of
帥與之期, though the meaning is fairly plain. The difficulty has
evidently been felt, for Tu Mu tells us that one text omits 期如.
It is more likely, however, that a couple of characters have
dropped out.

He carries his men deep into hostile territory before he shows his hand.

發其機, literally, “releases the spring” (see V. § 15), that is,
takes some decisive step which makes it impossible for the army to
return—like 項羽 Hsiang Yü, who sunk his ships after crossing a
river. Ch‘ên Hao, followed by Chia Lin, understands the words less
well as 發其心機 “puts forth every artifice at his command.” But 機
in this derived sense occurs nowhere else in Sun Tzŭ.

39. 焚舟破釜若驅羣羊而往驅而來莫知所之

He burns his boats and breaks his cooking-pots;

Omitted in the _T‘u Shu_.

like a shepherd driving a flock of sheep, he drives his men this way and that, and none knows whither he is going.

The _T‘u Shu_ inserts another 驅 after 羊. Tu Mu says: 三軍但知進
退之命不知攻取之端也 “The army is only cognisant of orders to
advance or retreat; it is ignorant of the ulterior ends of
attacking and conquering.”

40. 聚三軍之衆投之於險此謂將軍之事也

To muster his host and bring it into danger:—this may be termed the business of the general.

Sun Tzŭ means that after mobilisation there should be no delay in
aiming a blow at the enemy’s heart. With 投之於險 cf. _supra_,
§ 23: 投之無所往. Note how he returns again and again to this point.
Among the warring states of ancient China, desertion was no doubt
a much more present fear and serious evil than it is in the armies
of to-day.

41. 九地之變屈伸之利人情之理不可不察也

The different measures suited to the nine varieties of ground;

Chang Yü says: 九地之法不可拘泥 “One must not be hide-bound in
interpreting the rules for the nine varieties of ground.

the expediency of aggressive or defensive tactics;

The use of 屈伸 “contraction and expansion” may be illustrated by
the saying 屈以求伸, which almost exactly corresponds to the French
“il faut reculer pour mieux sauter.”[182] Capt. Calthrop, _more
suo_, avoids a real translation and has: “the suiting of the means
to the occasion.”

and the fundamental laws of human nature: these are things that must most certainly be studied.

42. 凡爲客之道深則專淺則散

When invading hostile territory, the general principle is, that penetrating deeply brings cohesion; penetrating but a short way means dispersion.

Cf. _supra_, § 20.

43. 去國越境而師者絶地也四達者衢地也

When you leave your own country behind, and take your army across neighbouring territory,

Chang Yü’s paraphrase is 而用師者.

you find yourself on critical ground.

This “ground” is cursorily mentioned in VIII. § 2, but it does not
figure among the Nine 地 of this chapter or the Six 地形 in chap.
X. One’s first impulse would be to translate it “distant ground”
(絶域 is commonly used in the sense of “distant lands”), but this,
if we can trust the commentators, is precisely what is not meant
here. Mei Yao-ch‘ên says it is 進不及輕退不及散在二地之間也 “a position
not far enough advanced to be called ‘facile,’ and not near enough
to home to be called ‘dispersive,’ but something between the two.”
That, of course, does not explain the name 絶, which seems to imply
that the general has severed his communications and temporarily
cut himself off from his base. Thus, Wang Hsi says: “It is ground
separated from home by an interjacent state, whose territory we
have had to cross in order to reach it. Hence it is incumbent
on us to settle our business there quickly.” He adds that this
position is of rare occurrence, which is the reason why it is not
included among the 九地. Capt. Calthrop gives but a poor rendering
of this sentence: “To leave home and cross the borders is to be
free from interference.”

When there are means of communication

The _T‘u Shu_ reads 通 for 達.

on all four sides, the ground is one of intersecting highways.

From 四達 down to the end of § 45, we have some of the definitions
of the early part of the chapter repeated in slightly different
language. Capt. Calthrop omits these altogether.

44. 入深者重地也入淺者輕地也

When you penetrate deeply into a country, it is serious ground. When you penetrate but a little way, it is facile ground.

45. 背固前隘者圍地也無所往者死地也

When you have the enemy’s strongholds on your rear,

固 = 險固.

and narrow passes in front, it is hemmed-in ground. When there is no place of refuge at all, it is desperate ground.

46. 是故散地吾將一其志輕地吾將使之屬

Therefore, on dispersive ground, I would inspire my men with unity of purpose.

This end, according to Tu Mu, is best attained by remaining on the
defensive, and avoiding battle. Cf. _supra_, § 11.

On facile ground, I would see that there is close connection between all parts of my army.

The _T‘ung Tien_ has 其 instead of 之. The present reading is
supported by the 遺說 of Chêng Yu-hsien. As Tu Mu says, the object
is to guard against two possible contingencies: 一者備其逃逸二者恐
其敵至 “(1) the desertion of our own troops; (2) a sudden attack
on the part of the enemy.” Cf. VII. § 17: 其徐如林. Mei Yao-ch‘ên
says: 行則隊校相繼止則營壘聯屬 “On the march, the regiments should be
in close touch; in an encampment, there should be continuity
between the fortifications.” He seems to have forgotten, by the
way, what Sun Tzŭ says above: 輕地則無止.

47. 爭地吾將趨其後

On contentious ground, I would hurry up my rear.

This is Ts‘ao Kung’s interpretation. Chang Yü adopts it, saying:
當疾進其後使首尾俱至 “We must quickly bring up our rear, so that
head and tail may both reach the goal.” That is, they must not be
allowed to straggle up a long way apart. Mei Yao-ch‘ên offers
another equally plausible explanation: 敵未至其地我若在後則當疾趨以爭之
“Supposing the enemy has not yet reached the coveted position, and
we are behind him, we should advance with all speed in order to
dispute its possession.” 其 would thus denote the enemy, 後 being
the preposition, and 趨 would retain its usual intransitive sense.
Cf. VII. § 4: 後人發先人至. Ch‘ên Hao, on the other hand, assuming
that the enemy has had time to select his own ground, quotes VI. § 1,
where Sun Tzŭ warns us against coming exhausted to the attack. His
own idea of the situation is rather vaguely expressed: 若地利在前先
分精銳以據之彼若恃衆來爭我以大衆趨其後無不尅者 “If there is a favourable
position lying in front of you, detach a picked body of troops to
occupy it; then if the enemy, relying on their numbers, come up to
make a fight for it, _you may fall quickly on their rear_ with your
main body, and victory will be assured.” It was thus, he adds,
that Chao Shê beat the army of Ch‘in. [See p. 57.] Li Ch‘üan would
read 多 for 趨, it is not easy to see why.

48. 交地吾將謹其守衢地吾將固其結

On open ground, I would keep a vigilant eye on my defences.

As Wang Hsi says, 懼襲我也 “fearing a surprise attack.” The
_T‘ung Tien_ reads here 固其結 (see next sentence).

On ground of intersecting highways, I would consolidate my alliances.

The _T‘ung Tien_ reads 謹其市, which Tu Yu explains as “watching
the market towns,” 變事之端 “the hotbeds of revolution.” Capt.
Calthrop translates 固其結 by the same words as 合交 in § 12:
“cultivate intercourse.”

49. 重地吾將繼其食圮地吾將進其塗

On serious ground, I would try to ensure a continuous stream of supplies.

The commentators take this as referring to forage and plunder,
not, as one might expect, to an unbroken communication with a home
base. One text, indeed, gives the reading 掠其食. Cf. § 13. Capt.
Calthrop’s “be careful of supplies” fails to render the force of 繼.

On difficult ground, I would keep pushing on along the road.

Capt. Calthrop’s “do not linger” cannot be called a translation,
but only a paraphrase of the paraphrase offered by Ts‘ao Kung:
疾過去也 “Pass away from it in all haste.”

50. 圍地吾將塞其闕死地吾將示之以不活

On hemmed-in ground, I would block any way of retreat.

意欲突圍示以守固 “To make it seem that I mean to defend the
position, whereas my real intention is to burst suddenly through
the enemy’s lines” [Mêng Shih]; 使士卒必死戰也 “in order to make my
soldiers fight with desperation” [Mei Yao-ch‘ên]; 懼人有走心
“fearing lest my men be tempted to run away” [Wang Hsi]. Tu Mu
points out that this is the converse of VII. § 36, where it is the
enemy who is surrounded. In 532 A.D., 高歡 Kao Huan, afterwards
Emperor and canonised as 神武 Shên-wu, was surrounded by a great
army under 爾朱兆 Êrh-chu Chao and others. His own force was
comparatively small, consisting only of 2000 horse and something
under 30,000 foot. The lines of investment had not been drawn very
closely together, gaps being left at certain points. But Kao Huan,
instead of trying to escape, actually made a shift to block all
the remaining outlets himself by driving into them a number of
oxen and donkeys roped together. As soon as his officers and men
saw that there was nothing for it but to conquer or die, their
spirits rose to an extraordinary pitch of exaltation, and they
charged with such desperate ferocity that the opposing ranks broke
and crumbled under their onslaught. [See Tu Mu’s commentary, and
北齊書 ch. 1, fol. 6.]

On desperate ground, I would proclaim to my soldiers the hopelessness of saving their lives.

Tu Yu says: 焚輜重棄糧食塞井夷竈示之無活必殊死戰也 “Burn your baggage
and impedimenta, throw away your stores and provisions, choke up
the wells, destroy your cooking-stoves, and make it plain to your
men that they cannot survive, but must fight to the death.” Mei
Yao-ch‘ên says epigrammatically: 必死可生 “The only chance of life
lies in giving up all hope of it.” This concludes what Sun Tzŭ has
to say about “grounds” and the “variations” corresponding to them.
Reviewing the passages which bear on this important subject, we
cannot fail to be struck by the desultory and unmethodical fashion
in which it is treated. Sun Tzŭ begins abruptly in VIII. § 2 to
enumerate “variations” before touching on “grounds” at all, but
only mentions five, namely nos. 7, 5, 8 and 9 of the subsequent
list, and one that is not included in it. A few varieties of
ground are dealt with in the earlier portion of chap. IX, and then
chap. X sets forth six new grounds, with six variations of plan
to match. None of these is mentioned again, though the first
is hardly to be distinguished from ground no. 4 in the next
chapter. At last, in chap. XI, we come to the Nine Grounds _par
excellence_, immediately followed by the variations. This takes us
down to § 14. In §§ 43–45, fresh definitions are provided for nos.
5, 6, 2, 8 and 9 (in the order given), as well as for the tenth
ground noticed in chap VIII; and finally, the nine variations
are enumerated once more from beginning to end, all, with the
exception of 5, 6 and 7, being different from those previously
given. Though it is impossible to account for the present state
of Sun Tzŭ’s text, a few suggestive facts may be brought into
prominence: (1) Chap. VIII, according to the title, should deal
with nine variations, whereas only five appear. (2) It is an
abnormally short chapter. (3) Chap. XI is entitled The Nine
Grounds. Several these are defined twice over, besides which there
are two distinct lists of the corresponding variations. (4) The
length of the chapter is disproportionate, being double that of
any other except IX. I do not propose to draw any inferences from
these facts, beyond the general conclusion that Sun Tzŭ’s work
cannot have come down to us in the shape in which it left his
hands: chap. VIII is obviously defective and probably out of
place, while XI seems to contain matter that has either been added
by a later hand or ought to appear elsewhere.

51. 故兵之情圍則禦不得已則鬥過則從

For it is the soldier’s disposition to offer an obstinate resistance when surrounded, to fight hard when he cannot help himself, and to obey promptly when he has fallen into danger.

過則從 is rendered by Capt. Calthrop: “to pursue the enemy if he
retreat.” But 過 cannot mean “to retreat.” Its primary sense is
to pass over, hence to go too far, to exceed or to err. Here,
however, the word has lost all implication of censure, and appears
to mean “to pass the boundary line dividing safety from danger,”
or, as Chang Yü puts it, 深陷于危難之地 “to be deeply involved in a
perilous position.” The latter commentator alludes to the conduct
of Pan Ch‘ao’s devoted followers in 73 A.D. The story runs thus in
the _Hou Han Shu_, ch. 47, fol. 1 _v_^o: “When Pan Ch‘ao arrived at
鄯善 Shan-shan, 廣 Kuang, the King of the country, received him at
first with great politeness and respect; but shortly afterwards
his behaviour underwent a sudden change, and he became remiss
and negligent. Pan Ch‘ao spoke about this to the officers of his
suite: ‘Have you not noticed,’ he said, ‘that Kuang’s polite
intentions are on the wane? This must signify that envoys have
come from the Northern barbarians, and that consequently he is in
a state of indecision, not knowing with which side to throw in his
lot. That surely is the reason. The truly wise man, we are told,
can perceive things before they have come to pass; how much more,
then, those that are already manifest!’ Thereupon he called one of
the natives who had been assigned to his service, and set a trap
for him, saying: ‘Where are those envoys from the Hsiung-nu who
arrived some days ago?’ The man was so taken aback that between
surprise and fear he presently blurted out the whole truth. Pan
Ch‘ao, keeping his informant carefully under lock and key, then
summoned a general gathering of his officers, thirty-six in all,
and began drinking with them. When the wine had mounted into their
heads a little, he tried to rouse their spirit still further by
addressing them thus: ‘Gentlemen, here we are in the heart of an
isolated region, anxious to achieve riches and honour by some
great exploit. Now it happens that an ambassador from the
Hsiung-nu arrived in this kingdom only a few days ago, and the
result is that the respectful courtesy extended towards us by our
royal host has disappeared. Should this envoy prevail upon him to
seize our party and hand us over to the Hsiung-nu, our bones will
become food for the wolves of the desert. What are we to do?’ With
one accord, the officers replied: ‘_Standing as we do in peril of
our lives, we will follow our commander through life and death_’
(今在危亡之地死生從司馬).” For the sequel of this adventure, see
chap. XII. § 1, note.

52. 是故不知諸侯之謀者不能預交不知山林險阻沮澤之形者不能行軍不用鄉導者不能得地利

We cannot enter into alliance with neighbouring princes until we are acquainted with their designs. We are not fit to lead an army on the march unless we are familiar with the face of the country—its mountains and forests, its pitfalls and precipices, its marshes and swamps. We shall be unable to turn natural advantages to account unless we make use of local guides.

These three sentences are repeated from VII. §§ 12–14—in order
to emphasise their importance, the commentators seem to think. I
prefer to regard them as interpolated here in order to form an
antecedent to the following words. With regard to local guides,
Sun Tzŭ might have added that there is always the risk of going
wrong, either through their treachery or some misunderstanding
such as Livy records (XXII. 13): Hannibal, we are told, ordered a
guide to lead him into the neighbourhood of Casinum, where there
was an important pass to be occupied; but his Carthaginian accent,
unsuited to the pronunciation of Latin names, caused the guide to
understand Casilinum instead of Casinum, and turning from his
proper route, he took the army in that direction, the mistake not
being discovered until they had almost arrived.

53. 四五者不知一非霸王之兵也

To be ignorant of any one of the following four or five principles

Referring, I think, to what is contained in §§ 54, 55. Ts‘ao Kung,
thinking perhaps of the 五利 in VIII. § 6, takes them to be 九地之
利害 “the advantages and disadvantages attendant on the nine
varieties of ground.” The _T‘u Shu_ reads 此五者.

does not befit a warlike prince.

霸王, “one who rules by force,” was a term specially used for those
princes who established their hegemony over other feudal states.
The famous 五霸 of the 7th century B.C. were (1) 齊桓公 Duke Huan
of Ch‘i, (2) 晉文公 Duke Wên of Chin, (3) 宋襄公 Duke Hsiang of Sung,
(4) 楚莊王 Prince Chuang of Ch‘u, (5) 秦穆公 Duke Mu of Ch‘in. Their
reigns covered the period 685–591 B.C.

54. 夫霸王之兵伐大國則其衆不得聚威加於敵則其交不得合

When a warlike prince attacks a powerful state, his generalship shows itself in preventing the concentration of the enemy’s forces. He overawes his opponents,

Here and in the next sentence, the _Yü Lan_ inserts 家 after 敵.

and their allies are prevented from joining against him.

Mei Yao-ch‘ên constructs one of the chains of reasoning that are
so much affected by the Chinese: “In attacking a powerful state,
if you can divide her forces, you will have a superiority in
strength; if you have a superiority in strength, you will overawe
the enemy; if you overawe the enemy, the neighbouring states will
be frightened; and if the neighbouring states are frightened, the
enemy’s allies will be prevented from joining her.” The following
gives a stronger meaning to 威加: 若大國一敗則小國離而不聚矣 “If the
great state has once been defeated (before she has had time to
summon her allies), then the lesser states will hold aloof and
refrain from massing their forces.” Ch‘ên Hao and Chang Yü take
the sentence in quite another way. The former says: “Powerful
though a prince may be, if he attacks a large state, he will be
unable to raise enough troops, and must rely to some extent on
external aid; if he dispenses with this, and with overweening
confidence in his own strength, simply tries to intimidate the
enemy, he will surely be defeated.” Chang Yü puts his view thus:
“If we recklessly attack a large state, our own people will be
discontented and hang back. But if (as will then be the case) our
display of military force is inferior by half to that of the
enemy, the other chieftains will take fright and refuse to join
us.” According to this interpretation, 其 would refer, not to the
大國, but to the 霸王 himself.

55. 是故不爭天下之交不養天下之權信己之私威加於敵故其城可拔其國可隳

Hence he does not strive

For 爭 the _Yü Lan_ reads 事.

to ally himself with all and sundry,

天下, as in § 6, stands for 諸侯 “the feudal princes,” or the
states ruled by them.

nor does he foster the power of other states. He carries out his own secret designs,

For 信 (read _shên_^1) in the meaning of 伸, cf. VIII. § 8. The
commentators are unanimous on this point, and we must therefore
beware of translating 信己之私 by “secretly self-confident” or the
like. Capt. Calthrop (omitting 之私) has: “he has confidence in
himself.”

keeping his antagonists in awe.

The train of thought appears to be this: Secure against a
combination of his enemies. 能絶天下之交惟得伸己之私志威而無外交者 “he
can afford to reject entangling alliances and simply pursue his
own secret designs, his prestige enabling him to dispense with
external friendships.” (Li Ch‘üan.)

Thus he is able to capture their cities and overthrow their kingdoms.

This paragraph, though written many years before the Ch‘in State
became a serious menace, is not a bad summary of the policy by
which the famous Six Chancellors gradually paved the way for her
final triumph under Shih Huang Ti. Chang Yü, following up his
previous note, thinks that Sun Tzŭ is condemning this attitude of
cold-blooded selfishness and haughty isolation. He again refers 其
to the warlike prince, thus making it appear that in the end he is
bound to succumb.

56. 施無法之賞懸無政之令犯三軍之衆若使一人

Bestow rewards without regard to rule,

Wu Tzŭ (ch. 3) less wisely says: 進有重賞退有重刑 “Let advance be
richly rewarded and retreat be heavily punished.”

issue orders

懸, literally, “hang” or “post up.”

without regard to previous arrangements;

杜姦媮 “In order to prevent treachery,” says Wang Hsi. The general
meaning is made clear by Ts‘ao Kung’s quotation from the _Ssŭ-ma
Fa:_ 見敵作誓瞻功作賞 “Give instructions only on sighting the enemy;
give rewards only when you see deserving deeds.” 無政, however,
presents some difficulty. Ts‘ao Kung’s paraphrase, 軍法令不應預施懸也,
I take to mean: “The final instructions you give to your army
should not correspond with those that have been previously posted
up.” Chang Yü simplifies this into 政不預告 “your arrangements
should not be divulged beforehand.” And Chia Lin says: 不守常法常政
“there should be no fixity in your rules and arrangements.” Not
only is there danger in letting your plans be known, but war often
necessitates the entire reversal of them at the last moment.

and you will be able to handle a whole army

犯, according to Ts‘ao Kung, is here equal to 用. The exact meaning
is brought out more clearly in the next paragraph.

as though you had to do with but a single man.

Cf. supra, § 34.

57. 犯之以事勿告以言犯之以利勿告以害

Confront your soldiers with the deed itself; never let them know your design.

Literally, “do not tell them words;” _i.e._ do not give your
reasons for any order. Lord Mansfield once told a junior colleague
to “give no reasons” for his decisions, and the maxim is even more
applicable to a general than to a judge. Capt. Calthrop translates
this sentence with beautiful simplicity: “Orders should direct the
soldiers.” That is all.

When the outlook is bright, bring it before their eyes; but tell them nothing when the situation is gloomy.

58. 投之亡地然後存陷之死地然後生

Place your army in deadly peril, and it will survive; plunge it into desperate straits, and it will come off in safety.

Compare the paradoxical saying 亡者存之基死者生之本. These words of
Sun Tzŭ were once quoted by Han Hsin in explanation of the tactics
he employed in one of his most brilliant battles, already alluded
to on p. 28, In 204 B.C., he was sent against the army of Chao,
and halted ten miles from the mouth of the 井陘 Ching-hsing pass,
where the enemy had mustered in full force. Here, at midnight,
he detached a body of 2000 light cavalry, every man of which was
furnished with a red flag. Their instructions were to make their
way through narrow defiles and keep a secret watch on the enemy.
“When the men of Chao see me in full flight,” Han Hsin said, “they
will abandon their fortifications and give chase. This must be the
sign for you to rush in, pluck down the Chao standards and set
up the red banners of 漢 Han in their stead.” Turning then to
his other officers, he remarked: “Our adversary holds a strong
position, and is not likely to come out and attack us until he
sees the standard and drums of the commander-in-chief, for fear
I should turn back and escape through the mountains.” So saying,
he first of all sent out a division consisting of 10,000 men, and
ordered them to form in line of battle with their backs to the
River 泜 Ti. Seeing this manœuvre, the whole army of Chao broke
into loud laughter. By this time it was broad daylight, and Han
Hsin, displaying the generalissimo’s flag, marched out of the pass
with drums beating, and was immediately engaged by the enemy. A
great battle followed, lasting for some time; until at length Han
Hsin and his colleague 張耳 Chang Ni, leaving drums and banner on
the field, fled to the division on the river bank, where another
fierce battle was raging. The enemy rushed out to pursue them and
to secure the trophies, thus denuding their ramparts of men; but
the two generals succeeded in joining the other army, which was
fighting with the utmost desperation. The time had now come for
the 2000 horsemen to play their part. As soon as they saw the men
of Chao following up their advantage, they galloped behind the
deserted walls, tore up the enemy’s flags and replaced them by
those of Han. When the Chao army turned back from the pursuit, the
sight of these red flags struck them with terror. Convinced that
the Hans had got in and overpowered their king, they broke up in
wild disorder, every effort of their leader to stay the panic
being in vain. Then the Han army fell on them from both sides and
completed the rout, killing a great number and capturing the rest,
amongst whom was King 歇 Ya himself.... After the battle, some of
Han Hsin’s officers came to him and said: “In the _Art of War_ we
are told to have a hill or tumulus on the right rear, and a river
or marsh on the left front. [This appears to be a blend of Sun Tzŭ
and T‘ai Kung. See IX. § 9, and note.] You, on the contrary,
ordered us to draw up our troops with the river at our back. Under
these conditions, how did you manage to gain the victory?” The
general replied: “I fear you gentlemen have not studied the Art of
War with sufficient care. Is it not written there: ‘_Plunge your
army into desperate straits and it will come off in safety; place
it in deadly peril and it will survive_’? Had I taken the usual
course, I should never have been able to bring my colleagues
round. What says the Military Classic (經)?—‘Swoop down on the
market-place and drive the men off to fight’ (毆市人而戰之). [This
passage does not occur in the present text of Sun Tzŭ.] If I had
not placed my troops in a position where they were obliged to
fight for their lives, but had allowed each man to follow his own
discretion, there would have been a general _débandade_, and it
would have been impossible to do anything with them.” The officers
admitted the force of his argument, and said: “These are higher
tactics than we should have been capable of.” [See _Ch‘ien Han
Shu_, ch. 34, ff. 4, 5.]

59. 夫衆陷於害然後能爲勝敗

For it is precisely when a force has fallen into harm’s way that it is capable of striking a blow for victory.

Danger has a bracing effect.

60. 故爲兵之事在於順詳敵之意

Success in warfare is gained by carefully accommodating ourselves to the enemy’s purpose.

Ts‘ao Kung says: 佯愚也 “Feign stupidity”—by an appearance of
yielding and falling in with the enemy’s wishes. Chang Yü’s note
makes the meaning clear: “If the enemy shows an inclination to
advance, lure him on to do so; if he is anxious to retreat, delay
on purpose that he may carry out his intention.” The object is to
make him remiss and contemptuous before we deliver our attack.

61. 并敵一向千里殺將

By persistently hanging on the enemy’s flank,

I understand the first four words to mean “accompanying the enemy
in one direction.” Ts‘ao Kung says: 幷兵向敵 “unite the soldiers
and make for the enemy.” But such a violent displacement of
characters is quite indefensible. Mei Yao-ch‘ên is the only
commentator who seems to have grasped the meaning: 隨敵一向然後發伏
出奇. The _T‘u Shu_ reads 并力.

we shall succeed in the long run

Literally, “after a thousand _li_.”

in killing the commander-in-chief.

Always a great point with the Chinese.

62. 此謂巧能成事者也

This is called ability to accomplish a thing by sheer cunning.

The _T‘u Shu_ has 是謂巧於成事, and yet another reading, mentioned
by Ts‘ao Kung, is 巧攻成事. Capt. Calthrop omits this sentence,
after having thus translated the two preceding: “Discover the
enemy’s intentions by conforming to his movements. When these are
discovered, then, with one stroke, the general may be killed, even
though he be one hundred leagues distant.”

63. 是故政舉之日夷關折符無通其使

On the day that you take up your command,

政舉 does not mean “when war is declared,” as Capt. Calthrop says,
nor yet exactly, as Ts‘ao Kung paraphrases it, 謀定 “when your
plans are fixed,” when you have mapped out your campaign. The
phrase is not given in the _P‘ei Wên Yün Fu_. There being no
causal connection discoverable between this and the preceding
sentence, 是故 must perforce be left untranslated.

block the frontier passes,

夷 is explained by Mei Yao-ch‘ên as 滅塞.

destroy the official tallies,

The _locus classicus_ for these tallies is _Chou Li_, XIV. fol. 40
(Imperial edition): 門關用符節貨賄用璽節道路用旌節. The generic term
thus appears to be 節, 符 being the special kind used at city-gates
and on the frontier. They were tablets of bamboo or wood, one half
of which was issued as a permit or passport by the official in
charge of a gate (司門 or 司關. Cf. the 封人 “border-warden” of _Lun
Yü_ III. 24, who may have had similar duties.) When this half was
returned to him, within a fixed period, he was authorised to open
the gate and let the traveller through.

and stop the passage of all emissaries.

Either to or from the enemy’s country.

64. 厲於廊廟之上以誅其事

Be stern in the council-chamber,

Show no weakness, and insist on your plans being ratified by the
sovereign. 廊廟 indicates a hall or temple in the Palace. Cf. I.
§ 26. It is not clear if other officers would be present. Hardly
anything can be made of 勵, the reading of the standard text, so I
have adopted Tu Mu’s conjecture 厲, which appears in the _T‘u Shu_.

so that you may control the situation.

Ts‘ao Kung explains 誅 by 治, and Ho Shih by 責成. Another reading
is 謀, and Mei Yao-ch‘ên, 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.”

65. 敵人開闔必亟入之

If the enemy leaves a door open, you must rush in.

This looks a very simple sentence, yet Ts‘ao Kung is the only
commentator who takes it as I have done. Mêng Shih, followed by
Mei Yao-ch‘ên 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: 天門開闔能爲雌乎; also _Li Chi_, 曲禮,
I. ii. 25.] It is not easy to choose between this and Ts‘ao Kung’s
explanation; the fact that 敵人開戶 occurs shortly afterwards, in
§ 68, 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.”

66. 先其所愛微與之期

Forestall your opponent by seizing what he holds dear,

Cf. _supra_, § 18.

and subtly contrive to time his arrival on the ground.

Capt. Calthrop hardly attempts to translate this difficult
paragraph, but invents the following instead: “Discover what he
most values, and plan to seize it.” Ch‘ên 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-ch‘ên 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” (VII. § 4). 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-ch‘ên’s interpretation of § 47.

67. 踐墨隨敵以決戰事

Walk in the path defined by rule,

墨 stands for 繩墨 “a marking-line,” hence a rule of conduct. See
Mencius VII. 1. xli. 2. Ts‘ao 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爲
“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.

and accommodate yourself to the enemy until you can fight a decisive battle.

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.”

68. 是故始如處女敵人開戶後如脫兎敵不及拒

At first, then, exhibit the coyness of a maiden, until the enemy gives you an opening; afterwards emulate the rapidity of a running hare, and it will be too late for the enemy to oppose you.

As the hare is noted for its extreme timidity, the comparison
hardly appears felicitous. But of course Sun Tzŭ 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 兎
“rabbit.” Rabbits are not indigenous to China, and were certainly
not known there in the 6th century B.C. The last sixteen
characters evidently form a sort of four-line jingle. Chap. X, it
may be remembered, closed in similar fashion.

XII. 火攻篇

THE ATTACK BY FIRE.

Rather more than half the chapter (§§ 1–13) is devoted to the subject
of fire, after which the author branches off into other topics.

1. 孫子曰凡火攻有五一曰火人二曰火積三曰火輜四曰火庫五曰火隊

Sun Tzŭ said: There are five ways of attacking with fire. The first is to burn soldiers in their camp;

So Tu Mu. Li Ch‘üan 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 Ch‘ao, sent on a diplomatic mission to the King of Shan-shan
[see XI. § 51, note], found himself placed in extreme peril by
the unexpected arrival of an envoy from the Hsiung-nu [the mortal
enemies of the Chinese]. In consultation with his officers, he
exclaimed: “‘Never venture, never win![183] The only course open
to us now is to make an assault by fire on the barbarians under
cover of night, when they will not be able to discern our numbers.
Profiting by their panic, we shall exterminate them completely;
this will cool the King’s courage and cover us with glory, besides
ensuring the success of our mission.’ The officers all replied
that it would be necessary to discuss the matter first with the
Intendant (從事). Pan Ch‘ao then fell into a passion: ‘It is
to-day,’ he cried, ‘that our fortunes must be decided! The
Intendant is only a humdrum civilian, who on hearing of our
project will certainly be afraid, and everything will be brought
to light. An inglorious death is no worthy fate for valiant
warriors.’ All then agreed to do as he wished. Accordingly, as
soon as night came on, he and his little band quickly made their
way to the barbarian camp. A strong gale was blowing at the time.
Pan Ch‘ao ordered ten of the party to take drums and hide behind
the enemy’s barracks, it being arranged that when they saw flames
shoot up, they should begin drumming and yelling with all their
might. The rest of his men, armed with bows and crossbows, he
posted in ambuscade at the gate of the camp. He then set fire to
the place from the windward side, whereupon a deafening noise of
drums and shouting arose on the front and rear of the Hsiung-nu,
who rushed out pell-mell in frantic disorder. Pan Ch‘ao slew three
of them with his own hand, while his companions cut off the heads
of the envoy and thirty of his suite. The remainder, more than a
hundred in all, perished in the flames. On the following day, Pan
Ch‘ao went back and informed 郭恂 Kuo Hsün [the Intendant] of what
he had done. The latter was greatly alarmed and turned pale.
But Pan Ch‘ao, divining his thoughts, said with uplifted hand:
‘Although you did not go with us last night, I should not think,
Sir, of taking sole credit for our exploit.’ This satisfied Kuo
Hsün, and Pan Ch‘ao, having sent for Kuang, King of Shan-shan,
showed him the head of the barbarian envoy. The whole kingdom was
seized with fear and trembling, which Pan Ch‘ao took steps to
allay by issuing a public proclamation. Then, taking the king’s
son as hostage, he returned to make his report to 竇固 Tou Ku.”
[_Hou Han Shu_, ch. 47, ff. 1, 2.]

the second is to burn stores;

Tu Mu says: 糧食薪芻 “Provisions, fuel and fodder.” In order to
subdue the rebellious population of Kiangnan, 高潁 Kao Kêng
recommended Wên Ti of the Sui dynasty to make periodical raids and
burn their stores of grain, a policy which in the long run proved
entirely successful. [隋書, ch. 41, fol. 2.]

the third is to burn baggage-trains;

An example given is the destruction of 袁紹 Yüan Shao’s waggons and
impedimenta by Ts‘ao Ts‘ao in 200 A.D.

the fourth is to burn arsenals and magazines;

Tu Mu says that the things contained in 輜 and 庫 are the same. He
specifies weapons and other implements, bullion and clothing. Cf.
VII. § 11.

the fifth is to hurl dropping fire amongst the enemy.

No fewer than four totally diverse explanations of this sentence
are given by the commentators, not one of which is quite
satisfactory. It is obvious, at any rate, that the ordinary
meaning of 隊 (“regiment” or “company”) is here inadmissible. In
spite of Tu Mu’s note, 焚其行伍因亂而擊之, I must regard “company
burning” (Capt. Calthrop’s rendering) as nonsense pure and simple.
We may also, I think, reject the very forced explanation given
by Li Ch‘üan, Mei Yao-ch‘ên and Chang Yü, of whom the last-named
says: 焚其隊仗使兵無戰具 “burning a regiment’s weapons, so that the
soldiers may have nothing to fight with.” That leaves only two
solutions open: one, favoured by Chia Lin and Ho Shih, is to take
隊 in the somewhat uncommon sense of “a road,” = 隧. The commentary
on a passage in the 穆天子傳, quoted in _K‘ang Hsi_, defines 隊
(read _sui_) as 谷中險阻道 “a difficult road leading through a
valley.” Here it would stand for the 糧道 “line of supplies,” which
might be effectually interrupted if the country roundabout was
laid waste with fire. Finally, the interpretation which I have
adopted is that given by Tu Yu in the _T‘ung Tien_. He reads 墜
(which is not absolutely necessary, 隊 _chui_ being sometimes used
in the same sense), with the following note: 以火墮敵營中也火墜之法
以鐵籠火着箭頭頸强弩射敵營中 “To drop fire into the enemy’s camp. The
method by which this may be done is to set the tips of arrows
alight by dipping them into a brazier, and then shoot them from
powerful crossbows into the enemy’s lines.”

2. 行火必有因煙火必素具

In order to carry out an attack with fire, we must have means available.

Ts‘ao Kung thinks that 姦人 “traitors in the enemy’s camp” are
referred to. He thus takes 因 as the efficient cause only. But
Ch‘ên Hao is more likely to be right in saying: 須得其便不獨姦人 “We
must have favourable circumstances in general, not merely traitors
to help us.” Chia Lin says: 因風燥 “We must avail ourselves of wind
and dry weather.”

The material for raising fire should always be kept in readiness.

煙火 is explained by Ts‘ao Kung as 燒具 “appliances for making
fire.” Tu Mu suggests 艾蒿荻葦薪芻膏油之屬 “dry vegetable matter,
reeds, brushwood, straw, grease, oil, etc.” Here we have the
material cause. Chang Yü says: 𫎓火之器燃火之物 “vessels for
hoarding fire, stuff for lighting fires.”

3. 發火有時起火有日

There is a proper season for making attacks with fire, and special days for starting a conflagration.

A fire must not be begun 妄 “recklessly” or 偶然 “at haphazard.”

4. 時者天之燥也日者宿在箕壁翼軫也凡此四宿者風起之日也

The proper season is when the weather is very dry; the special days are those when the moon is in the constellations of the Sieve, the Wall, the Wing or the Cross-bar;