other.

"Yet not so far aside as to discommode any one," responded Mason.

"I beg leave to dissent from Mr. Mason," added a third. "The location is
inconvenient for my family."

"The sacred associations of the spot alone ought to keep the church
there," urged Mr. Mason. "For generations our house of worship has stood
there, and the place is hallowed by the sepulchres of our fathers around
it."

The subject was discussed, pro and con, when Washington's opinion was
asked. Without reserve he remarked:

"I cannot agree with my friend Mason that the location does not sensibly
inconvenience some members of the parish. I think it does, and that a
more central locality can be found. Neither can I see the force of his
argument derived from the contiguity of the grave-yard. Churches are
erected for the living, and not for the dead. The ashes of the dead can
be sacredly protected by a suitable enclosure."

The vestry adjourned without deciding upon the location, and before the
next meeting, Washington carefully surveyed the parish, and made a neat
plan of the same, showing that the old location was far from the centre.
Mr. Mason urged with more earnestness than before the claims of the old
site. But when Washington took his plan of survey from his pocket, and
gave ocular demonstration that the old location was at one side of the
parish, the new location was adopted at once.

Rev. Lee Massey was rector of the church at that time, and he said of
Washington:

"I never knew so constant an attendant on church as Washington. And his
behavior in the house of God was ever so deeply reverential that it
produced the happiest effects on my congregation, and greatly assisted
me in my pulpit labors. No company ever kept him from church. I have
often been at Mount Vernon on the Sabbath morning when his
breakfast-table was filled with guests; but to him they furnished no
pretext for neglecting his God and losing the satisfaction of setting a
good example. For, instead of staying at home out of false complaisance
to them, he used constantly to invite them to accompany him."

Mrs. Washington's daughter died in 1770, after a lingering and painful
disease. It was a terrible blow to her; and how severe a blow it was to
her husband may be learned from the following incident:

Coming into the room when his wife's face was buried in her hands,
convulsed with grief, he burst into tears, kneeled beside the bed, and
poured out his soul in a mos