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Daoism -> Zhuangzi -> Inner Chapters -> Enjoyment in Untroubled Ease -> 6

惠子庄子Huizi told Zhuangzi, saying,
'The king of Wei sent me some seeds of a large calabash,
which I sowed. The fruit, when fully grown, could contain five piculs (of anything).
I used it to contain water,
but it was so heavy that I could not lift it by myself.
I cut it in two to make the parts into drinking vessels;
but the dried shells were too wide and unstable and would not hold (the liquor);
nothing but large useless things!
。” Because of their uselessness I knocked them to pieces.'
庄子 Zhuangzi replied,
'You were indeed stupid, my master, in the use of what was large.
There was a man of Song who was skilful at making a salve which kept the hands from getting chapped;
and (his family) for generations had made the bleaching of cocoon-silk their business.
A stranger heard of it,
and proposed to buy the art of the preparation for a hundred ounces of silver.
The kindred all came together, and considered the proposal.
"We have," said they, "been bleaching cocoon-silk for generations,
and have only gained a little money.
Now in one morning we can sell to this man our art for a hundred ounces
。’ - let him have it."
The stranger accordingly got it
and went away with it to give counsel to the king of Wu,
who was then engaged in hostilities with Yue.
使 The king gave him the command of his fleet,
and in the winter
he had an engagement with that of Yue,
on which he inflicted a great defeat,
and was invested with a portion of territory taken from Yue.
The keeping the hands from getting chapped was the same in both cases;
but in the one case it led to the investiture (of the possessor of the salve),
and in the other it had only enabled its owners to continue their bleaching.
The difference of result was owing to the different use made of the art.
Now you, Sir, had calabashes large enough to hold five piculs;
why did you not think of making large bottle-gourds of them, by means of which you could have floated over rivers and lakes,
instead of giving yourself the sorrow of finding that they were useless for holding anything.
!”Your mind, my master, would seem to have been closed against all intelligence!'


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