Though the sage would never be transported with delight
He would still feel an abiding joy
In the presence of the true and only good
He would never indeed would be agitated by desire
But still he would be animated by wish
For that was directed only to the good
And though he would never feel fear
Still he would be actuated in danger by a proper caution
There was therefore something rational
Corresponding to three out of four primary passions
Against delight was to be set joy
Against grief there was nothing to be set
For that arose from the presence of ill
Which would rather never attach to the sage
Grief was the irrational conviction
That one ought to afflict oneself
Where there was no occasion for it
The ideal of the stoics was the unclouded serenity of socrates
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 3:52 PM UTC
Though the sage would never be transported with delight
He would still feel an abiding joy
In the presence of the true and only good
He would never indeed would be agitated by desire
But still he would be animated by wish
For that was directed only to the good
And though he would never feel fear
Still he would be actuated in danger by a proper caution
There was therefore something rational
Corresponding to three out of four primary passions
Against delight was to be set joy
Against grief there was nothing to be set
For that arose from the presence of ill
Which would rather never attach to the sage
Grief was the irrational conviction
That one ought to afflict oneself
Where there was no occasion for it
The ideal of the stoics was the unclouded serenity of socrates
