8 October, A Chesterton Calendar
OCTOBER 8th
When your father told you, walking about the garden, that bees stung
or that roses smell sweet, you did not talk of taking the best
out of his philosophy. When the bees stung you, you did not call
it an entertaining coincidence; when the rose smelt sweet you did
not say, 'My father is a rude, barbaric symbol enshrining (perhaps
unconsciously) the deep delicate truth that flowers smell.' No, you
believed your father because you had found him to be a living fountain
of facts, a thing that really knew more than you; a thing that would
tell you the truth to-morrow, as well as to-day.
'Orthodoxy.'
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