Rem publicam ad naturae simUitudinem ordi
The Natural Model for the Commonwealth
The author introduces the idea that human society should imitate the natural order found in the animal kingdom to avoid becoming beastly.
and the order to be borrowed from the bees. Cicero and Plato wrote about the commonwealth in different ways; one discussed what it ought to be, while the other discussed what our ancestors had established it to be. Yet both prescribed a formula for it—both as it is established and as it is to be established—just as life does for eight-legged crabs: v. Ov. Fast. i. 5, because of the multitude, it should imitate the civil nature which we have very often named as the best guide for living. Otherwise, it will rightly be called not only uncivilized, but rather beastly and brutal.
The Industrious Bees
A detailed observation of the bees' communal life, division of labor, and disciplined devotion to their hive.
As for the structure of nature, creatures that lack reason are enough to show it. Maro, the most learned of poets—to whom Plutarch directs his Trajan so that he might borrow a model of civil life from the bees—sings of the wondrous spectacles of these slight creatures. They alone share their offspring, have common dwellings in the city, and live their lives under great laws; they alone know their country and fixed homes, and mindful of the coming winter, they labor in the summer and store what they have gathered for the common good. For some keep watch over their food and work in the fields by a set agreement; part of them, within the walls of their homes, lay the first foundations of the combs using the tears of the narcissus and the sticky glue from tree bark, and then hang the tenacious wax; others lead out the young, the hope of the race; others pack the purest honey and stretch the cells with liquid nectar. There are those to whom the duty of guarding the gates has fallen by lot, and in turn they watch the waters and the clouds of the sky, or they receive the burdens of those arriving, or they form a column and drive the lazy herd of drones from the stalls. The work is buzzing, and the fragrant honey smells of thyme. Then, just as when the Cyclopes hasten to forge thunderbolts from soft masses of iron—some receive and return the air with bellows made of bull-hide, others dip the hissing bronze in the trough, the cave groans under the anvils placed upon it, they lift their arms in rhythm with great force and turn the iron with gripping tongs—not otherwise (if it's permitted to compare small things to great) does an innate love of possession urge the bees; the elders have the care of the city, both to fortify the combs and to fashion the intricate dwellings. But the younger ones return weary late at night, their legs full of thyme; they feed everywhere on arbutus, gray willows, cassia, blushing saffron, rich linden, and dark-colored hyacinths. They all share one rest from their work, and one labor for them all. In the morning they rush out the gates without delay; when evening warns them to leave the fields after grazing, they head for their shelter to tend to their bodies. There is a buzzing sound around the entrances and thresholds. Afterward, once they’ve settled into their chambers, silence falls for the night, and sleep takes hold of their weary limbs. They don't wander far from their hives when rain threatens, nor do they trust themselves to the approaching East winds; instead, they stay safe, gathering water near the city walls and making short trips. They often pick up little stones—just as unstable boats take on ballast when tossed by waves—and use them to balance themselves through the empty clouds. You'll marvel that this custom has pleased the bees so much: they don't indulge in mating, they don't sluggishly dissolve their bodies in lust, nor do they bring forth their young through physical union; rather, they themselves gather their young from leaves and sweet herbs with their mouths, and they themselves provide for their king and their little citizens, rebuilding their halls and waxen kingdoms. Often, too, they wear down their wings wandering over hard rocks and willingly give up their lives under the weight; such is their love of flowers and their glory in producing honey. Therefore, although their lives are short—for no more than a seventh summer is allowed—the race remains immortal. For many years the fortune of the house stands, and the ancestors of ancestors are counted.
The King and the Common Good
The author concludes that the bees' absolute loyalty to their king provides the most perfect model for human civil life.
Furthermore, neither Egypt, nor vast Lydia, nor the peoples of the Parthians, nor the Mede by the Hydaspes observe their king in this way; while their king is safe, they all share a single mind, but once he is lost, they break their loyalty, tear apart the honey they have built, and even break down the very frames of their combs. They admire that guardian of their works, and they all surround him with a dense buzzing, crowding around him in great numbers; they often lift him upon their shoulders, expose their own bodies to battle for him, and seek a beautiful death through their wounds. Look through all the authors on the state and leaf through the histories of public affairs; you'll never find a more upright or elegant model for civil life. Cities would undoubtedly be blessed if they prescribed this way of living for themselves.
Read the original Latin
nandam, et ordinem ab apibus mutuandum. Scripserunt de re publica etsi diuerso modo Cicero et Plato, cum alter qualis esse debeat disseruerit, alter qualis fuerit a maioribus instituta. Hanc tamen uterque et institutae et instituendae praescripsit formulam, ut uita octipedes cancros: v. Ov. Fast. i. 5, prae muUitudine ciuilis naturam imitetur quam optimam uiuendi ducem saepissime nominauimus. Alioquin non modo inciuilis sed potius bestialis et bruta rite uocabitur.
Quae sit autem naturae institutio, ipsa rationis expertia monstrare sufficiunt. Poetarum doctissimus Maro, ad quem Plutarchus suum destinat Traianum ut ciuilem uitam ab apibus mutuetur, admiranda canit leuium spectacula rerum. Solae communes natos, consortia tecta urbis habent, magnisque agitant sub legibus euum, et patriam solae, certos nouere penates, uenturaeque hiemis memores estate laborem experiuntur et in medium quaesita reponunt. Namque aliae uictu inuigilant et federe pacto exercentur agris; pars intra septa domorum Narcisi lacrimam et lentum de cortice gluten prima fauis ponunt fundamina, deinde tenaces a suspendunt ceras; aliae spem gentis adultos educunt fetus; aliae purissima mella stipant et liquido distendunt nectare cellas. Sunt quibus ad portas cecidit custodia sorti, inque uicem speculantur aquas et nubila celi aut onera accipiunt uenientum aut agmine facto ignauum fucos pecus a praesepibus arcent. Feruet opus redolentque thimo fragrantia mella. Tum, ueluti lentis Ciclopes fulmina massis cum properant, alii taurinis follibus auras accipiunt redduntque, alii stridentia tingunt aera lacu, gemit impositis incudibus antrum, illi inter sese magna ui brachia tollunt in numerum uersantque tenaci forcipe ferrum; non aliter (si parua licet componere magnis) Cicropias innatus apes amor urget habendi munere quemque suo; grandaeuis opida curae et munire fauos et dedala fingere tecta. At fessae multa referunt se nocte minores, crura thimo plenae; paseuntur et arbuta passim et glaucas salices casiamque crocumque rubentem et pinguem tiliam et ferrugineos iacinctos.
Omnibus una quies operum, labor omnibus unus. Mane ruunt portis; nusquam mora rursus easdem Vesper ubi e pastu tandem decedere campis admonuit; tum tecta petunt, tum corpora curant. Fit sonitus mussantque horas et limina circum. Post, ubi iam thalamis se composuere, siletur in noctem, fessosque sopor suus occupat artus. Nec uero a stabulis pluuia impendente recedunt longius aut credunt sese aduentantibus Euris, sed circum tutae sub menibus urbis aquantur excursusque breues temptant, et saepe lapillos, ut cimbae instabiles fluctu iactante saburram, tollunt, his sese per inania nubila librant. Illum adeo placuisse apibus mirabere morem quod nec concubitu indulgent nec corpora segnes in Venerem soluunt aut fetus nexibus edunt, uerum ipsae foliis natos et suauibus herbis ore legunt; ipsae regem paruosque Quirites sufficiunt aulasque et cerea regna refigunt. Saepe etiam duris errando in cotibus alas attriuere ultroque animam sub fasce dederunt; tantus amor florum et generandi gloria mellis. Ergo ipsas quamuis angusti terminus eui excipiat (neque enim plus septima ducitur estas), at genus immortale manet, multosque per annos stat fortuna domus et aui numerantur auorum.
Praeterea regem non sic Egiptus et ingens Lidia nec populi Parthorum aut Medus Hidaspes obseruant; rege incolumi mens omnibus una est; amisso rupere fidem constructaque mella diripuere ipsae etiam crates soluere fauorum. Ille operum custos, illum admirantur et omnes circumstant strepitu denso stipantque frequentes, et saepe attollunt humeris et corpora bello obiectant pulchramque petunt per uulnera mortem. Rei publicae omnes auctores percurre, rerum publicarum reuolue historias, uita ciuilis tibi rectius et elegantius nusquam occurret. Essentque proculdubio beatae ciuitates, si hanc sibi uiuendi praescriberent formam.
Policraticus companion
Study the argument weekly; pray the tradition daily
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John of Salisbury argued that rulers must keep the law of God before their eyes daily; Chosen Portion gives modern readers that same daily discipline in five minutes a morning.
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- Discussion questions usable for a reading group from week one
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