Parliament of the Virtuous

A South American Fable by Leonardo Castellani

Leonardo Castellani (1899-1981) was a Catholic theologian, author, and publisher. Born in the province of Santa Fe in Argentina’s tropical north, he was the son of a freethinking journalist allegedly murdered by agents of the government. Ordained a priest of the Jesuit order in 1930, he studied philosophy, theology, and psychology in Rome and Paris.

Upon his return to Argentina, he worked in publishing and teaching. In 1946, Castellani stood for election to Congress as a member of the Alianza Libertadora Nacionalista party during the time when Juan Domingo Perón became president. However, clashes with the Jesuits eventually led to his expulsion from the order and suppression of his priestly faculties. In middle age, he relied on his friends and lived an abstemious life while writing and publishing numerous poems, novels, and theological works.

During such time he founded and edited the magazine, Jauja. Among his works are his collection of his fables titled Camperas, an exegesis of the Revelation to St. John, and an edition of the first volume of St. Thomas Aquinas’s Summa Theologica with commentary. His novels include Los papeles de Benjamín Benavides (1954), and Su majestad Dulcinea (1956). He often published newspaper essays under the pseudonyms, Jerónimo del Rey and Militis Militorum.

But Castellani remained active not only in literature and journalism, but also politics. He gained the enmity of Argentine leftist intellectuals and members of his Church because of his sharp-tongued criticism of modern society. In 1972, he joined equally famous authors like Jorge Luís Borges and Ernesto Sabato in publicly petitioning the military dictatorship for the life of novelist Antonio di Benedetto, who had been arrested and tortured by the military.

Following the Second Vatican Council, Castellani was restored to the priesthood in 1966, but would not accept reinstatement to the Jesuits. He continued to write and publish until his death, and is now considered one of Argentina’s greatest writers, including his celebrated contemporary, Borges, to whom he is frequently compared.

Sebastian Randle has written a two-volume biography of Castellani and has translated two of his works into English. Castellani has gained further currency lately in the writings of Spanish essayist Juan Manuel de Prada.

The following—a short story from Camperas (1931) titled, “The Parliament of the Virtuous”—is translated and adapted by me from the original Spanish. Any notes are my own.

Gotthold Ephraim Lessing, a German writer,^[1] once said facile or connatural virtues puff us up with our presumed saintliness that we then try to impose on everyone else.

Once upon a time, this happened in Argentina, just as it did in Germany, when some animals assembled in the province of Santa Fe to draft a constitution. After agreeing the world needs mending, they couldn’t reach a consensus on how to do so. In this, they resembled a human parliament.

“What’s missing in the world is nobility of spirit,” said the Puma: “Oh, what pitiful wretches you are, brothers and sisters, and how many evils are born from your pettiness!”

“My lord, with your permission,” said the Fox, “Your grace, if it were up to me, I would say prudence, prudence, prudence. The greatest virtue, like salt, becomes a vice without prudence. Be prudent, for this is a world for hunters. Think carefully, trust no one, and act quickly once a matter has been settled.”

“Justice,” said the Hound, “Give to everyone his due. Cuddle the master, bark at strangers, harry the thief, and bite the friend who comes to take our food. Justice is the mother of loyalty, both of which sustain friendship: our joy.”

“Strength to carry the burden of duty, adapt to any way of life or clime, or even die on a battlefield without knowing the reason why,” said the Horse: “That’s my ideal and, rest assured, without it we can do nothing.”

“Temperance,” said the Ñandú^[2] “is the sine qua non of happiness. Since we are nothing but a digestive tract with feet, a stomach should take in whatever comes to it, whether stones or iron nails, and be happy anywhere but always ready to dart off in a flash to flee danger.”

“Solitude and silence,” announced the misanthropic Owl: “Life is sublime for the hermit in his cave, who meditates the day long and leaves only during the hush of night to steal his humble sustenance and remind everyone of death with his mournful hooting.”

Poking her beak in, the chatty Swallow cheeped without waiting for permission: “I wish to speak. I know what we’re missing, my lords. Life is movement. Having traveled widely and learned the customs of many lands, if I may say, I’ve never stopped speculating and thinking about many things, such as the bluest lake and the highest cloud, and I…”

“A word, please,” the Mockingbird said mildly. “With no objection to what my esteemed colleague just said, but are we considering the virtue of contemplation? Contemplation takes us to great heights and trembling rapture. Contemplation sweeps us up to heaven or pulls us down into trembling trills.”

The Bee buzzed, “Madness! Work is what we need. Active, tireless, ceaseless manual labor…”

“Savings,” squeaked the Ant. “A government savings account. Start while you’re young. The government knows how to manage money.”

The Sloth^[3] said, “Trust in providence. If it’s raining, let it rain. If there’s lightning, even better. Is the world going to ruin? Then it’s best if it happens while we’re sleeping. Impavidum ferient ruinae.

The Caracara,^[4] squawked with its filthy mouth, “Envy is a poisonous vice. When I squat at a carcass, why must all of you gobble up what’s mine? The world is for pleasure, especially for the young. But enjoy it prudently, because rancid flesh is unhealthy and causes dreadful retching. Leave everyone in peace to enjoy captured spoils. That’s the way you do it. If you would just let me have some overripe flesh to myself, if even for a day, I would burst with joy. But you never do, out of envy!”

“Intellectual, moral, and physical health, the latter of which is the basis of the first two,” grunted the Boar. “They are the font of social and personal well-being. Eat, therefore. Eat well and digest well. Digest well, and be happy. When you’re happy, you won’t look for trouble. If you don’t look for trouble, you won’t feel bad. If you don’t feel bad, you’ll digest well…” the Boar said. Worn out by his syllogism, the Boar flopped down on his belly, spread his legs, and closed his eyes.

Finally, the Snake recommended caution, and the thieving Weasel called for all animals to take care of their own families. The timid Sparrow advised humility. The Sheep called for meekness. The Cat purred for cleanliness.

The president of the assembly brought the colloquy to an end, as it often happens in these cases, and asked the Toad, “And which virtue do you prefer?”

The Toad answered, “I don’t know. None, I guess.”

Then the wise Lapwing,^[5] a friendly and bluff type from the countryside, was moved by the Toad’s modesty. She ventured to say, “My lords, only one of us is truly virtuous: I give you, my friend, the Toad. Yes, comrades, don’t grumble. It’s the truth. I’m free as the wind, never mince words, and show neither fear nor favor.”

“Toad patiently accepts the ugliness heaven has bestowed upon him. He’s harmless, clean, restrained, and friendly to the poor. He doesn’t bother anyone. He sings his graceless tune to God in gratitude for the rain. Even though he eliminates garden vermin, boys stone him and adults kick him. He continues to do favors until being cruelly killed one day for no good reason. Isn’t it true, my ugly and unappreciated friend, that you’ve selflessly saved my eggs many times?” the Lapwing said.

“My lords,” she continued, “The greatest virtue exacts a cost that is often ignored! As of today, let’s cease to honor our own inclinations, good as they may be, but help others while we travel down the same road!”

Martin Barillas is a journalist, translator, adventurer, and author. A retired diplomat and descendent of conquistadores, he frequently contributes to Catholic News Agency and National Catholic Register, Mr. Barillas is currently working on further translations of Leonardo Castenalli’s stories. His historical novel, Shaken Earth (Dialog Press: 2019), set in Guatemala during the rise of the Third Reich, can be purchased online. He invites you to follow him on X.

Featured image: lapwing in photo (2014) by WikiGiz via Wikimedia Commons.