Rock Island daily Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1886-1893, 1893-10-05
SEARCHING AFTER TRUTH.
The Realization Was In Weird Discord to
the Authorization

the Anticipation.
Truth lies at the bottom of WELL
so the people Of the world told her.
She was young and fair, and she
searched for Truth, but her frequent
visits to the well brought no discovery:
only the reflection of her beautiful face
in the water.
One night knock came at her door.
and she sprang up and opened it.
There on the threshold stood a bundle
of rags, which moved as if breathing.
She shuddered as she asked, WHO are
your" Then came the answer:
Il am Truth"
Il would see your face" she cried.
NAY, innocent one, my face is noU
fair to look upon, but am TRUTH
The cold wind was blowing and cry
ing, and she closed the door. The Truth
she sought was pure and beautiful, not
loathsome, and with the conviction of
youth she was satisfied with herself for
having refused this grewsome thing ad-
mittance. From that day, however.
strange visitors knocked at her door.
and each called himself Truth.
First came a gay party of dancers,
whose. graceful figures swaying to and
fro captivated her fancy; their musical
voices held her as in their thrall. Their
visit was like delightful dream, and
she asked, Pray tell me who you are?"
And they answered, I'VE are Truth"
So she believed for days; then she real
lied her mistake, and that they were
not Truth, but pleasure. Again she
-
ing.
Aday dawned brightly, and there came
another knock.
On her threshold stood lovely child
Its hair was garlanded with flowers,
and its garb was spotless white.
When it entered, it was as if portion
of the pure light of the sun had stolen
into the room.
The child's arms were soon intwined
about the neck of the seeker after Truth.
The odor of the blossoms intoxicated
her; her heart beat with wild delight; a
tender kiss was stamped ON her brow,
and with a gentle whisper, Il am
Truth" the child was gone, and at her
feet buds blossomed-the room was light
er than it had been for years.
The memory of that vision remained
with her long time, but at last it fled,
and then she knew it was Love, not
Truth.
Again she went to the well, yet found
nothing.
Years after another knock came. Her
heart beat fast as the figure of a man en-
tered. His manner was fattering and
full of grace-his face seemed honest.
She had never felt the influence of 9TH
er visitors exerted over herwith the pow
er of this one.
She dared not ask his name, but as he
left he said, pressing her hand, Il am
Truth"
For years she believed it; then came
doubt, and she saw what had been her
ideal of Truth was only Policy
The next visitor was a long bearded,
bent old man, whose face was furrowed
and whose hands We're palsied.
From his feeble lips came the words,
Il am Truth" His stay was short. but
she remembered that visitor, and oft
when the days We're drear she saw be-
fore her the trembling hands, the thin,
snow white locks, the bent form and
the quivering lips, and she believed she
had found Truth.
But she was growing older now, and
something told her that Sorrow was not
Truth. Then she went to the well, and
it was dry. But there, far down in its
depths, she saw Il toad. Who are you:"
she cried, and hollow voice replied,
Il am Tradition" So she turned her
face toward home and knew that the
whole world lied and was deceived.
That same night came knock at her
door. She rose slowly and opened it.
There stood the strange creature covered
with rags-her first visitor.
What would you? Who are you?"
Then came the answer, Il am Truth"
Il would see your face" she muir
INJURED.
NAY, experienced one, my face is not
fair to see, but l am Truth"
Yet would l see it," she made an
swer, for well know l now that Truth
is not what we would have it, nor is it
fair"
Then the figure threw off its rag COW
ering, and before her stood skeleton.
Now she knew her life search was end
ed and that she had at last found Truth.
Henry Russell Wray in Philadelphia
Ledger.