Arkansas true Democrat., 1857-08-11
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sometimes the reader of newspaper will lo'ice' bringing up the rear of an advertise- ine'., 'he letters "ti." Probably they never trouoied hlm much; he might have regarded them as sort of cabaastic literature peculiar to the press, and certainly not fit theme for song or sermon
 However this may be- that pair of letters has significance beyond the range of tvnes and on into the shadows any out into the sunshine ot that mosaic work we call life. To the unintiated, 1t is only "tf," to the printers eye, 1t expands into "til forbid:, reminder that the advertisement it awaits on is to be continued from day to day, or from week to week, until ordered out by him who direct ed Its publication
 ne story Of how many springs that have o'o"snt 'he blue blrd and the violet, has been .o'u III tn"' U" Wrought in the green tra- oe's ol leaves that rise and fall on the bosom oi the ar; painted on clouds at anchor in the summer sea; carved on the stone thresholds of ever going floods; slvered on the m,on,s mo- dalhon; graved on the round ruby of inc morn. ing sun; in the scroll of storm it is wover. on the breath of the song it is broidercd, and tf., -"tlil forbid" in the story of the world. "TC.n Is written alike on the drop of dew-tha satel- ute or sod-and on the great world that dan ces ln the breath and brightens ill the smile of God.
 II, rounds the summer of human hopes Is oencately traced on beauty's brow; you will ma It in the roses bushing bud, you may see 1t in the ever shining star.
 IT. IS wrought in the helms of the sweep Ing Iamerlanes of all time and the silver thread of the small-voiced brook will not be broken without 1t.
 Nature has no stereotypes; all her advertise ments are published with "tf,'' and the types that express her loveliness, are silently "dis- trlbuted,' and the graves are filled with the eloquence of yesterday
 And even there enamelled in the little bi. lows of turf, that break up earth's green sward like sea, there is till forbid;" and so, the silent swell of sod subsidies where graves have been; and back to the light, and back to the ar, and up to the cloud. and away in gladness. goes the dust to be fashioned into new expres- slons of truth and beauty
 IF IS woven ln the scarlet robe of Wrong and the purple robe of Power Conquest's glowing wheels ale locked with tf.' and the wear est bonds that ever bowed humanity, bear these letters stamped every link.
 The young mother bending with a look of love over the fairest copy" her eyes have ever seen, torgets that in that little face. hid in the
 d Q golden hair, two words are traced in lfe's blue autograph that ere long obeyed, may leave her gazing up to the full heaven, and signing that summer air has waited away forever the sweetest copy" in all the world
 But the singer of the little song that goes into all hands, whenever it is spring, reads no U, upon Its pnons. He knows that 1t will carol on to other times and win welcome; that It will sing when he is dead; that the olive Teal It bears will never wither; that by and by window will be opened in Heaven, and a hand VIII be put forth, and singing still, that tuneluI bIrd oi his will be touched with "the white radance" of immortal morning.
 And the thinker who eutrus,s his thought 10 t!Ihr' hIS thought instinct with beauty and eo- qneht with truth, feels that no ''ti" will prove tEc enc oi all" of its missiou; that leaving the red threshold of his heart, 1t begins an 1 independent being, and will stand sublmelv there, Tn the broken columns of "the proof'' of time
 1hIs IS not to die; this is the true transmigra- ton ot the soul; ciings to no frail tenure of til iorbld,' its types shall never fall to dust nor syllable of all its utterance be lost.
 There IS dignity in such a work; to bridge the narrow bredth of graves; to keep the crumb- ling arches in the hall of time This has DO emblem in the drop of rain that builds the bow upon the cloud, and glitters down the change iu ray that gilds stormy world.
 This IS to pass like some armed warrior, un- , challenged down the ages as they stand and near his foot, unfaltering, press the threshold ot tomorrow. Upon its gates, Ion golden hinges turling," no "till orbd'' was ever traced, and to all truth and earnest thought. bright hands ever b"cEoning and the line moves on.