Classical Prose
游褒禅山记
王安石
褒禅山亦谓之华山。
唐浮图慧褒始舍于其址，而卒葬之。
以故其后名之曰褒禅。
今所谓慧空禅院者，褒之庐冢也。
距其院东五里，所谓华山洞者，以其乃华山之阳名之也。
距洞百余步，有碑仆道，其文漫灭，独其为文犹可识，曰花山。
今言华如华实之华者，盖音谬也。
其下平旷，有泉侧出，而记游者甚众，所谓前洞也。
由山以上五六里，有穴窈然，入之甚寒，问其深，则其好游者不能穷也，谓之后洞。
余与四人拥火以入，入之愈深，其进愈难，而其见愈奇。
有怠而欲出者，曰：“不出，火且尽。”
遂与之俱出。
盖余所至，比好游者尚不能十一，然视其左右，来而记之者已少。
盖其又深，则其至又加少矣。
方是时，余之力尚足以入，火尚足以明也。
既其出，则或咎其欲出者，而余亦悔其随之而不得极夫游之乐也。
于是余有叹焉。
古人之观于天地、山川、草木、虫鱼、鸟兽，往往有得，以其求思之深而无不在也。
夫夷以近，则游者众；险以远，则至者少。
而世之奇伟、瑰怪、非常之观，常在于险远，而人之所罕至焉。
故非有志者不能至也。
有志矣，不随以止也，然力不足者，亦不能至也。
有志与力，而又不随以怠，至于幽暗昏惑而无物以相之，亦不能至也。
然力足以至焉，于人为可讥，而在己为有悔。
尽吾志也而不能至者，可以无悔矣，其孰能讥之乎？
此余之所得也。
余于仆碑，又以悲夫古书之不存，后世之谬其传而莫能名者，何可胜道也哉！
此所以学者不可以不深思而慎取之也。
Translation
Mount Baochang is also called Mount Hua. In the Tang dynasty, the monk Huibao first built a dwelling there and was eventually buried there. Therefore later generations named it Mount Baochang. The so-called Huikong Meditation Cloister is Huibao's former dwelling and tomb. Five li east lies whats called Huashan Cave, named for being on the southern side of Mount Hua. Over a hundred paces from the cave, a stele lies fallen by the path, its inscription eroded beyond legibility. Only the pattern of characters can still be made out, reading 'Flower Mountain.' People today pronounce Hua as in 'flower-fruit,' which seems a phonetic error. Below it, the ground is level and open. A spring emerges from the side, and many visitors have left records. This is what is called the Front Cave. Ascending five or six li further up the mountain, there is a deep, secluded cavern. Entering it is very cold. Asked about its depth, even those who love to travel cannot reach its end. This is called the Rear Cave. I entered with four others, holding torches. The deeper we went, the harder the advance became, yet the more extraordinary the sights. One man, growing weary and wanting to turn back, said: 'If we do not turn back now, our torches will soon go out.' So we all turned back with him. The distance we had covered was not even one-tenth of what the keenest travelers might reach. Yet looking left and right, there were already very few visitors who had come and left inscriptions. At still greater depth, the number of visitors would have been even smaller. At that moment, my strength was still enough to go further, and our torches were still bright enough to show the way. Once we came out, some blamed the one who had wanted to leave, and I too regretted following him — missing the full joy of the expedition. This set me thinking. When the ancients observed heaven and earth, mountains and rivers, grasses and trees, insects and fish, birds and beasts, they often gained real insight — because they reflected deeply, and nothing escaped their attention. Where the terrain is smooth and near, many visitors come. Where it is dangerous and distant, few arrive. And the rare, magnificent, and extraordinary sights of this world are always found in those distant and dangerous places that people rarely reach. Therefore, unless one has determination, one cannot reach them. With determination but not stopping with others, yet insufficient in strength — even then, one cannot reach them. With determination and strength, and without being led into idleness by others, yet if one reaches a dark, confusing place and has no external aid — even then, one cannot reach them. But if strength is sufficient yet one fails to reach, then others may well mock, and one will feel regret. If one exhausts one's determination yet still cannot reach, then there is nothing to regret. Who could mock such a person? This is what I have gained. Standing before that fallen stele, I also grieved that so many ancient texts have not survived, that errors in transmission have made so many things impossible to know truly. How many such cases are there! This is why scholars must think deeply and choose carefully.
Analysis
Record of a Visit to Mount Baochang is Wang Anshi's most famous travel essay, but it is not a typical landscape record. It uses a failed cave expedition as a springboard for philosophical argument about determination, strength, and external conditions. The essay opens with philological inquiry — tracing the mountain's name, the monk's biography, a phonetic error in a stele inscription. This scholarly precision is characteristic of Wang Anshi. The central narrative is simple: a group enters a deep cave with torches. The deeper they go, the harder and stranger the journey becomes. One member, afraid the torches will fail, urges them to turn back. They do — and Wang immediately regrets it. His strength was still sufficient; the torches were still burning. He followed someone else's fear instead of his own will. This regret triggers the essay's philosophical heart. Wang defines three conditions for reaching 'extraordinary sights': zhi (determination), li (strength), and wu (external aid). Determination is primary. Without it, nothing begins. But determination alone is not enough — one needs physical and mental strength. And even with both, one may need material support (torches, tools, knowledge). The most famous passage — 'If one exhausts one's determination yet still cannot reach, then there is nothing to regret' — expresses a principle Wang carried through his entire political career. One does not control outcomes, but one controls effort. Failure after maximum effort carries no shame. The second reflection, on the fallen stele and lost texts, expands the argument to scholarship: the need for independent thinking and careful verification. This reflects Wang's approach as a reformer — questioning received tradition, demanding evidence, thinking independently. The essay is characteristic of Wang Anshi's intellectual style: rational, analytical, using concrete experience to reach abstract insight.
About the Author
Wang Anshi, courtesy name Jiefu, literary name Banshan, was a Northern Song statesman, writer, and thinker from Linchuan in Fuzhou. He is one of the 'Eight Great Masters of the Tang and Song' and served as Grand Councilor, leading the Xining Reforms. His prose is known for vigorous clarity, rigorous argumentation, and the ability to derive abstract principles from concrete experience. Major works include 'Record of a Visit to Mount Baochang,' 'Reply to Sima Guang's Letter of Admonition,' 'Reading the Biography of Lord Mengchang,' and 'On the Loss of Zhongyong.'