Preface by Lionel Giles

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

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

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

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

A few special features of the present volume may now be noticed. In the first
place, the text has been cut up into numbered paragraphs, both in order to
facilitate cross-reference and for the convenience of students generally. The
division follows broadly that of Sun Hsing-yen’s edition; but I have
sometimes found it desirable to join two or more of his paragraphs into one. In
quoting from other works, Chinese writers seldom give more than the bare title
by way of reference, and the task of research is apt to be seriously hampered
in consequence. With a view to obviating this difficulty so far as Sun Tzŭ is
concerned, I have also appended a complete concordance of Chinese characters,
following in this the admirable example of Legge, though an alphabetical
arrangement has been preferred to the distribution under radicals which he
adopted. Another feature borrowed from “The Chinese Classics” is
the printing of text, translation and notes on the same page; the notes,
however, are inserted, according to the Chinese method, immediately after the
passages to which they refer. From the mass of native commentary my aim has
been to extract the cream only, adding the Chinese text here and there when it
seemed to present points of literary interest. Though constituting in itself an
important branch of Chinese literature, very little commentary of this kind has
hitherto been made directly accessible by translation.

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