_. I am of that opinion, Sir; Man was not made for Woman.

_Char_. Most certain, Sir, Man was to have been immortaliz'd by the Love
and Conversation of these charming Sylphs and Nymphs, and Women by the
Gnomes and Salamanders, and to have stock'd the World with Demi-Gods,
such as at this Day inhabit the Empire of the Moon.

_Doct_. Most admirable Philosophy and Reason!--But do these Sylphs and
Nymphs appear in Shapes?

_Char_. The most beautiful of all the Sons and Daughters of the
Universe: Fancy, Imagination is not half so charming: And then so soft,
so kind! but none but the _Caballa_ and their Families are blest with
their divine Addresses. Were you but once admitted to that Society--

_Doct_. Ay, Sir, what Virtues or what Merits can accomplish me for that
great Honour?

_Char_. An absolute abstinence from carnal thought, devout and pure of
Spirit; free from Sin.

_Doct_. I dare not boast my Virtues, Sir; Is there no way to try my
Purity?

_Char_. Are you very secret?

_Doct_. 'Tis my first Principle, Sir.

_Char_. And one, the most material in our _Rosycrusian_ order.--Please
you to make a Tryal?

_Doct_. As how, Sir, I beseech you?

_Char_. If you be thorowly purg'd from Vice, the Opticles of your Sight
will be so illuminated, that glancing through this Telescope, you may
behold one of these lovely Creatures, that people the vast Region of
the Air.

_Doct_. Sir, you oblige profoundly.

_Char_. Kneel then, and try your strength of Virtue. Sir,--Keep your Eye
fix'd and open. [_He looks in the Telescope_.

[_While he is looking_, Charmante _goes to the Door to_ Scaramouch,
_who waited on purpose without, and takes a Glass with a Picture of
a Nymph on it, and a Light behind it; that as he brings it, it shews
to the Audience. Goes to the end of the Telescope_.

--Can you discern, Sir?

_Doct_. Methinks, I see a kind of glorious Cloud drawn up--and now, 'tis
gone again.

_Char_. Saw you no Fuger?

_Doct_. None.

_Char_. Then make a short Prayer to _Alikin_, the Spirit of the East;
shake off all earthly Thoughts, and look again.

[_He prays_. Charmante _puts the Glass into the Mouth
of the Telescope_.

_Doct_.--Astonish'd, ravish'd with Delight, I see a Beauty young and
Angel-like, leaning upon a Cloud.

_Char_. Seems she on a Bed? then she's reposing, and you must not gaze.

_Doct_. Now a Cloud veils her from me.

_Char_. She saw you peeping then, and drew the