Memoirs of the Flint Family. My father, Mr. Oliver Flint, by a diligent and persevering attention, and a constant residence on his estate in Jamaica, not only enlarged his property and increased his wealth, but also acquired so confirmed a predilection for the place in which his prosperity had been always flourishing, that he imagined the island of Jamaica to be the most healthy spot in the habitable globe; and it was a frequent topic of conversation with my mother, to prove to her, that the air was salutary, and that no one died at Jamaica, whom intemperance did not conduct to the grave. My mother was sensible that her health had suffered in this "terrestrial paradise," and that it was hourly sinking into debility; but she left to her countenance the office of confuting my father's arguments, and suffered in silence. A very dangerous fever with which my father in his fiftieth year was attacked, in spite of his sobriety and precautions, effected a change in his opinions, and probably preserved to my mother some years of existence in this world. Jamaica was no longer conceived to be without the inconveniences of its tropical situation, and my father hastened his preparations to leave it. Our family, at the period we embarked for England, consisted of my brother Oliver, my sister Lucretia, and myself, who was the youngest. My mother, in her wish to return to England, had been governed by motives of advantage to her children, as powerfully as by a consideration for her own health. The uncontrolled indulgence which my father granted us, bounded his views; our improvement constituted no part of his cares; and the consequence was, that Oliver and Lucretia, to use his own words, had never been ill a day in their lives. I was born less robust, and was reared with more difficulty. My mother, in her tender cares, kept me in her sight, and my mind was formed to docility, and my sports to more quietness, than suited the vigorous Oliver, and the romp my sister. I thus became my mother's amusement; and to her taste I am indebted for my love of literature and science. Our voyage was pleasant, though tedious. Our accommodations were easy, for the vessel was my father's; and in the delights of the deck, I lost, by my activity, the name of "_Miss Molly_," which my father, though with good humour, had taught my brother and sister to give me. My mother appeared to have left her complaints in "the wholesomest spot in the world;" she hourly became more cheerful; and my father confessed that the sea breeze was equal to the air of the plantation. We settled in London; and a time was given to repose and amusements; when, again my mother's cheek faded, and I took the alarm. Her maid-servant told me, as _a secret_, that we should soon have a nursery and a cradle to provide, and that her master was looking out for a country-house, in order that my mother might be quiet. This plan was effected; the family