Truth never comes into the world but like a bastard, to the

Hear the fiery words of John Milton, poet and prophet of liberty: “Truth never comes into the world but like a bastard, to the ignominy of him that brought her birth.” In this saying he unveils a grim reality—that truth, though noble and eternal, is seldom welcomed with honor. Instead, it enters the world in shame, clothed in suspicion, despised by the proud, and rejected by the powerful. The one who dares to bring it forth is not crowned as a benefactor, but scorned as an outcast, mocked as a fool, or crushed as a heretic.

The ancients knew this well. Socrates, who sought only to awaken Athens from its slumber, was condemned to death for corrupting the youth. The truth he bore was not greeted as a royal heir but cast aside as an illegitimate child, and his name was blackened in his own time. Yet the centuries proved otherwise, and his teachings endure while the judges who silenced him are forgotten. Milton’s words remind us that to bear truth is often to bear shame, yet that shame is but the garment it wears until time strips it away.

Consider also the tale of Galileo Galilei. He gazed upon the heavens and declared that the earth moved around the sun. The science was sound, the truth undeniable, yet the world was not ready. He was dragged before the Inquisition, forced to recant, and lived under house arrest. To many of his age, he was the father of scandal, not enlightenment. His truth was treated as a bastard child, and he bore the ignominy of its birth. Yet now, his name is honored, and his persecutors are remembered only for their blindness.

Milton himself lived this reality. In his own day, he spoke boldly for liberty of conscience and the freedom of the press, penning his immortal Areopagitica. Yet his defense of truth and freedom did not win him comfort, but suspicion, political ruin, and later imprisonment. He knew from experience that truth does not descend into the world in robes of honor but in rags of rejection. Still he bore it, for he knew the crown of truth is not granted by men but by eternity.

Why is it so? Because truth is a sword that cuts through illusion, and men love their illusions. It exposes hypocrisy, unsettles comfort, and demands change. Those who profit from lies or ease resist it with all their might. Thus, the bearer of truth is hated, not because he is false, but because he is true. The shame he endures is not his own, but the world’s, which has not yet learned to receive the gift he brings.

The lesson is clear: do not expect the path of truth to be crowned with roses. Expect stones, mockery, and exile. Yet walk it still. For every age that has despised the bearers of truth has later built monuments to their memory. Your honor may not come in your lifetime, but it will come, for truth cannot be buried forever. The bastard child becomes, in time, the rightful heir.

Therefore, children of tomorrow, be bold. Speak the truth, though the world frown. Defend it, though you stand alone. Endure the ignominy, knowing it is not you but the age that is shamed. For to bear truth is to join the company of prophets, poets, and reformers who were once despised but are now revered. And let this be your strength: though truth enters the world in shame, it endures in glory, for no darkness can silence it forever.