"P.S. I am told that you have taken a number of prisoners. I know not if you have any right to entail slavery on these poor creatures. If any fall to your share, do set them at liberty." On the 8th of June, Mrs. Graham wrote to her mother, expressing her gratitude for her husband's safe return, and noticing some gratifying indications of the calm and peaceful state of his mind: "You would be surprised to hear the doctor preach. He says we ought to be thankful; we have hitherto been richly and bountifully provided for; we ought not to repine, nor doubt, seeing we have the same Providence to depend upon; that we ought not to set our hearts upon any thing in this world; being very short-sighted, we cannot know what is proper for us. Having done for the best, when we are disappointed, we ought to rest satisfied that either what we wish is not for our good, or it will in some future dispensation of Providence be brought about another way and in a fitter time. Indeed, my dear mamma, in some things he is a better Christian than I am. _May God make him so in every thing._" Thus was the Lord preparing his servant for what was so soon to follow--not his dismission from the regiment, which he so ardently desired, but from this world and its temptations and snares. Mrs. Graham's prayers were answered, but "by terrible things in righteousness." She added a request that her mother would receive her eldest daughter, who, though at the early age of _five years_, she feared would receive injurious influences from the corrupt state of society around her, and accordingly, not long after, sent her to Scotland; but before her arrival, her grandmother had been called to a better world. In reference to this event Mrs. Graham wrote to her bereaved father as follows: "ANTIGUA, August 21, 1773. "MY DEAREST PAPA--The heart-rending tidings of my dear, my tender, my affectionate mother's death reached me yesterday. I am so distressed that I can scarcely write, and no wonder, for never was there such a mother. My loss is indeed great; but O, my dear, my afflicted father, how my heart bleeds for you. Father of mercies, support my aged parent, and enable him to place his hopes of happiness beyond this transitory world, and to follow the footsteps of the dear departed saint till he joins her in glory, never, never more to be separated. "My dearest father, we may indeed mourn for ourselves; but she is happy--that is beyond all doubt. Her delight was with God while she was here; her closet was a Bethel; her Bible was her heart's treasure, and His people were her loved companions. She has now joined the innumerable company above, where she continues the same services without human frailty, and the enjoyment heightened beyond our highest conceptions.