e, as he turned it to or from his body. The use Gyges made of
his occasional invisibility, was, by the advantage of it, to violate a
queen, and murder a king. Tully takes notice of this allegory, and says
very handsomely, that a man of honour who had such a ring, would act
just in the same manner as he would do without it.[116] It is indeed no
small pitch of virtue under the temptation of impunity, and the hopes
of accomplishing all a man desires, not to transgress the rules of
justice and virtue; but this is rather not being an ill man, than being
positively a good one; and it seems wonderful, that so great a soul as
that of Tully, should not form to himself a thousand worthy actions
which a virtuous man would be prompted to by the possession of such a
secret. There are certainly some part of mankind who are guardian beings
to the other. Sallust could say of Cato, "that he had rather be than
appear good";[117] but indeed, this eulogium rose no higher than (as I
just now hinted) to an inoffensiveness, rather than an active virtue.
Had it occurred to the noble orator to represent, in his language, the
glorious pleasures of a man secretly employed in beneficence and
generosity, it would certainly have made a more charming page than any
he has now left behind him. How might a man, furnished with Gyges'
secret, employ it in bringing together distant friends, laying snares
for creating goodwill in the room of groundless hatred; in removing the
pangs of an unjust jealousy, the shyness of an imperfect reconciliation,
and the tremor of an awful love! Such a one could give confidence to
bashful merit, and confusion to overbearing impudence.

Certain it is, that secret kindnesses done to mankind, are as beautiful
as secret injuries are detestable. To be invisibly good, is as godlike,
as to be invisibly ill, diabolical. As degenerate as we are apt to say
the age we live in is, there are still amongst us men of illustrious
minds, who enjoy all the pleasures of good actions, except that of being
commended for them. There happens among others very worthy instances of
a public spirit, one of which I am obliged to discover, because I know
not otherwise how to obey the commands of the Benefactor. A citizen of
London has given directions to Mr. Rayner, the writing-master of Paul's
School,[118] to educate at his charge ten boys (who shall be nominated
by me) in writing and accounts, till they shall be fit for any trade. I
desire therefore