s created such tracts of
alluvial soil, as those which now present themselves in contiguity
with most rivers. The soil, thus assembled and compounded, is similar
in its nature to the rocks and hills whence it was washed; but, having
been so pulverized and so divided by solution, it forms the finest
medium for the secretion of all vegetable principles, and hence the
banks of rivers are the favourite residences of man. Should the
channel constantly narrow itself more and more, till it becomes
choaked in its course, or at its outlet, then, for a time, lakes would
be formed, which in like manner would narrow themselves and disappear.
New channels would then be formed, or the rain would so diffuse itself
over the surface, that the fall and the evaporation would balance each
other.

Such are the unceasing works of #CREATION#, constantly taking place on
this exterior surface of the earth; where, though less evident to the
senses and experience of man, matter apparently inert is in as
progressive a state of change from the operation of unceasing and
immutable causes, as in the visible generations of the animal and
vegetable kingdoms. Thus water, wind, and heat, the energies of which
#NEVER CEASE# to be exerted, are constantly producing new
combinations, changes, and creations; which, if they accord with the
harmony of the whole, are fit and "good;" but, if discordant, are
speedily re-organized or extinguished by contrary and opposing powers.
In a word, #WHATEVER IS, IS FIT; AND WHATEVER IS NOT FIT, IS NOT, OR
SOON CEASES TO BE!#--Such seems to be the governing principle of
Nature--the key of all her mysteries--the primary law of creation! All
things are the proximate effects of a balance of immutable
powers--those powers are results of a #PRIMORDIAL CAUSE#,--while that
#CAUSE# is inscrutable and incomprehensible to creatures possessing
but a relative being, who live only in #TIME# and #SPACE#, and who
feel and act merely by the #IMPULSE# of limited senses and powers.

A lane, in the north-west corner of the Common, brought me to Barnes'
Elms, where now resides a Mr. Hoare, a banker of London. The family
were not at home; but, on asking the servants if that was the house of
Mr. Tonson, they assured me, with great simplicity, that no such
gentleman lived there. I named the Kit-Cat Club, as accustomed to
assemble here; but the oddity of the name excited their ridicule; and
I was told that no such Club was held there; but, perhap