It is not to be won­de­red at that the king is not wise! Sup­po­se the case of the most easi­ly gro­wing thing in the world; if you let it have one day’s geni­al heat, and then expo­se it for ten days to cold, it will not be able to grow. It is but sel­dom that I have an audi­ence of the king, and when I reti­re, the­re come all tho­se who act upon him like the cold. Though I suc­ceed in brin­ging out some buds of good­ness, of what avail is it? Now chess-play­ing is but a small art, but without his who­le mind being given, and his will bent, to it, a man can­not suc­ceed at it. Chess Qiu is the best chess-play­er in all the king­dom. Sup­po­se that he is tea­ching two men to play. The one gives to the sub­ject his who­le mind and bends to it all his will, doing not­hing but lis­tening to Chess Qiu. The other, alt­hough he seems to be lis­tening to him, has his who­le mind run­ning on a swan which he thinks is approa­ching, and wis­hes to bend his bow, adjust the string to the arrow, and shoot it. Alt­hough he is lear­ning along with the other, he does not come up to him. Why? Becau­se his intel­li­gence is not equal? Not so.

Meng­zi (370 v. Chr. – 290 v. Chr.) ist mit dem König nicht zufrie­den (via Chi­ne­se Text Pro­ject).