The birth of Decoration Day deserves to be held in everlasting remembrance. Mrs. John A. Logan, the wife of the great Volunteer General, in company with some friends, made a trip to Richmond in March, 1868. Mrs. Logan was particularly impressed by the evidences of desolation and destruction which she witnessed everywhere, but which seemed to her to be particularly emphasized by the innumerable graves which filled the cemeteries, many of which were those of Confederate soldiers. In the summer before they had all been decorated by wreaths of flowers and little flags, all of which were faded, but which seemed to the tender-hearted woman to be a mute evidence of the devotion and gratitude of those people to the men who had lost their lives to their cause. On speaking of this to General Logan, on her return, he said it was a beautiful custom and one worthy to be copied, and, as he was then Commander-in-chief of the Grand Army of the Republic, that he intended issuing an order, asking the entire people of the nation to inaugurate the custom of annually decorating the graves of the patriotic dead as a memorial of their sacrifice and devotion to country. He issued the first order for May 30, 1868, and it was so enthusiastically received that Congress made it a national holiday. It will thus be seen, that Memorial Day was born out of a partnership between a woman's tender heart and a man's noble purpose. It is also sweet to reflect that South and North united at its birth. The Southern mourners were the first to cover the graves of their dead with flowers, as they were the first to decorate the graves of their fallen foes; while their Northern brothers led in calling to it national attention, and made the custom as wide as the country. From henceforth we all unite in the closing couplet of Finch's noble song:-- "Love and tears for the Blue; Tears and love for the Gray." [Illustration: _JAMES THOMSON_] _RULE, BRITANNIA._ When Britain first, at heaven's command, Arose from out the azure main, This was the charter, the charter of the land, And guardian angels sung the strain: Rule, Britannia, Britannia rule the waves, Britons never shall be slaves. The nations, not so blest as thee, Must in their turn to tyrants fall, While thou shalt flourish, great and free, The dread and envy of them all. Rule, Britannia, Britannia rule the waves, Britons never shall be slaves. Still more majestic shalt thou rise, More dreadful from each foreign stroke; As the loud blast that rends the skies Serves but to root thy native oak. Rule, Britannia, Britannia rule the waves, Britons never shall be slaves.