By way of varying the phraseology, but not the thing, they had called
themselves philanthropists. The meaning of that venerable word had
decayed of late in characteristic fashion. Prometheus, the archetype,
brought fire from Heaven to comfort certain people who had the wit to
appreciate its uses. He did not waste his time wet-nursing the unfit,
like a modern philanthropist. What was a modern philanthropist? He was
a fellow who was always bothering you to do something for somebody
else. He appealed to your purse for the supposed welfare of some pet
degenerate. Prometheus appealed to your intelligence for the real
welfare of rational beings. A rich man found it extremely simple, no
doubt, to sign a cheque. But an act was not necessarily sensible
because it happened to be simple. People ought to dominate their
reflexes. Prometheus did not choose the simplest course--he chose the
wisest, and found it a pretty tough job, too. That alone proved him to
have been a man of sound digestion and robust health.
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