Post by Pacelli on Oct 2, 2023 8:40:44 GMT -5
Recently I learned of a book with alleged prophecies of the future titled in French, Le Joir de la colère ou la main de dieu sur un empire, and in English titled, The Day of Wrath or the Hand of God on an Empire. The book was published in 1856 by an Abbé Fatacioli.
I did try to look into this to see what I could find to see if this book is legit or not. Here is what I found on it.
The book can be found in French HERE
Recently a man named Nich Flüe translated the book from French into English and he published it in PDF on his website HERE
Mr. Flue wrote an introduction to the book and in it he explains that there was a man named Zacharie who was a Jew and married to a Maronite rite Catholic. She died, but before her death convinced him to become a Catholic. The man lived a very ascetic life, and had a daughter but she also died at a young age, and then he lived the reminder of his life living a hermit, and apparently had visions of the future, to which he wrote down. Before his death, the man asked another man that was also living as a hermit to give these writings to a Catholic priest, and he did, and the priest was named Abbé Fatacioli, who then published these writings.
I tried to verify any of this story that I could and came up short. I tried to find out about who Abbé Fatacioli was, and found nothing. I also tried to find anything about the man, Zacharie, and came up with nothing. I can't speak French, so if anyone here is a French speaker and has any knowledge about this interesting story, feel free to post about it.
The book was reviewed by an M. Garcin, in a French ecclesiastical publication, L'Ami de la religion, Volume 176, 1857 pp. 126-127. The review is linked HERE
I put the entire review in an online translator and this is a rough English translation of it (all emphasis added):
M. Garcin is clearly treating the book as fiction, not an actual account of prophesy. Was this how the book was supposed to be understood, as a fictional story, or was it the actual writings of a man who lived an acetic life who had visions of the future? If it was the latter, then M. Garcin misunderstood what he was reviewing, but that seems doubtful. This review came out only a year after the publication, so he was a contemporary of the event, so probably he would have understood the context better than any of us in modern times.
Here is what I could find about the publication L'Ami de la religion from a Wikipedia article on it:
The article is linked HERE
The article is in French, but I put it through Chatster to give a rough translation:
My provisional conclusions on this book are that it is most likely fiction and not a true prophesy as written down by a holy Catholic hermit. I base this on the following:
1. There is no account of the man Zacharie or his wife, or his daughter, or his friend and fellow hermit, that can be found anywhere, showing that he or his family actually existed. There is no documentation or sources provided by Mr. Flüe or anyone else that shows that these were real people. If there is, I would like to read it. The same can be said of the l'Abbé Fatacioli, as I could find nothing on him either, and as he was the one who published the book, it would be good to know, if he existed, or if this was just a pen name, and if he did exist, what he ever said about this book or the story behind it.
2. This review, L'Ami de la religion, is clearly not a lightweight publication, all one has to do is look through the table of contents to see the many subjects covered, and for a book reviewer in a publication like this to confuse actual prophesy with fiction would be a massive blunder on both the reviewer's part and the editor for letting such a mistake happen.
3. I think though, that the review did not make a blunder, and as they were contemporaries of the book, they understood it for what it was, and treated it as fiction, not as an account of prophesy.
There is much more that can be known about this story, so obviously my opinion on this is provisional, and if more evidence surfaces either way, then I will modify my thinking on this.
I did try to look into this to see what I could find to see if this book is legit or not. Here is what I found on it.
The book can be found in French HERE
Recently a man named Nich Flüe translated the book from French into English and he published it in PDF on his website HERE
Mr. Flue wrote an introduction to the book and in it he explains that there was a man named Zacharie who was a Jew and married to a Maronite rite Catholic. She died, but before her death convinced him to become a Catholic. The man lived a very ascetic life, and had a daughter but she also died at a young age, and then he lived the reminder of his life living a hermit, and apparently had visions of the future, to which he wrote down. Before his death, the man asked another man that was also living as a hermit to give these writings to a Catholic priest, and he did, and the priest was named Abbé Fatacioli, who then published these writings.
I tried to verify any of this story that I could and came up short. I tried to find out about who Abbé Fatacioli was, and found nothing. I also tried to find anything about the man, Zacharie, and came up with nothing. I can't speak French, so if anyone here is a French speaker and has any knowledge about this interesting story, feel free to post about it.
The book was reviewed by an M. Garcin, in a French ecclesiastical publication, L'Ami de la religion, Volume 176, 1857 pp. 126-127. The review is linked HERE
I put the entire review in an online translator and this is a rough English translation of it (all emphasis added):
The Day of Wrath or God's Hand on an Empire
Prophetic visions of a seer from Judah published by M. l'Abbé Fatacioli.
We have read this book with an anxious curiosity. We have been searching to grasp its fundamental idea, sometimes despairing of finding it, yet convinced, nonetheless, by the talent full of verve that several pages bear the imprint of, that beneath these images borrowed from prophetic style, there must be a true, more or less rich, more or less fruitful foundation. But genuine and serious.
It takes, we must admit, rare courage, a particularly active and persevering imagination, to write with calmness and a clear mind, as M. l'Abbé Fatacioli has done, a whole volume in intentionally symbolic and mysterious style. It exposes oneself to not be understood immediately, and nothing is more dangerous for a first work. Our century is so distracted, so carried away by a thousand preoccupations, so accustomed to seizing everything, to judging everything at a glance, that if it is required to seek and wait for the meaning, the explanation of any work, it willingly moves on, risking being accused of shallowness by the crowd of misunderstood, which have never been more numerous than in our time.
In the preface of his book - the only part that is written in the vernacular - M. l'Abbé Fatacioli seems to see style as a matter of fashion, a purely arbitrary garment subject, therefore, to all the whims of the times or the writer. This is an opinion open to discussion, but one that we do not want to examine here. We will only point out to him that, since there is fashion, he might have dressed his ideas a little more in line with the current one; the form would have been relatively less eccentric, and the substance would have remained the same.
We believe that inspired style presupposes inspiration, and that to maintain one's diction at the level of prophetic elevation throughout 232 pages, it takes more than verve, more than talent, more than imagination, and even more than genius; one must simply and purely be a prophet, a faculty that M. l'Abbé Fatacioli certainly does not claim for himself. All these attempts at biblical style have a double drawback: the first is that, by the very nature of things, they are condemned to present only the shell and appearance, to be nothing more than a more or less well-sustained play of wit; the second is that they make us too familiar with the august and venerable images of sacred words, and, what is even more serious, they pretend, through talent and imagination, not to equal or reproduce, but at least to simulate prophetic inspiration.
M. l'Abbé Fatacioli characterizes himself in a prologue, stating the form in which he believed he should clothe his ideas: "These are not the Holy Books," he has the supposed communicator of visions say, "but something that resembles them; it is a series of tableaux, descriptions, teachings, reproaches, and threats thrown with a certain ardent precipitation, interspersed with a kind of apparent disorder that seems to announce the approach of great, lugubrious or heroic, but inevitable events. The style of the prophet is sometimes lively and rapid, sometimes laborious and embarrassed; the turns of phrase are varied and multiple, sometimes brief, incisive, and vigorous, sometimes clear, easy, and flowing, and sometimes also harsh, agitated, incomplete, and even one could say extravagant... One feels that his agitated hand trembles under fervent inspirations, and one would say that he advances, leading the world towards something immense, solemn, or final. In describing his style, the author gives a sample. It is pompous, magnificent, resounding, but of such magnificence that it takes on another name. It is something that resembles the Holy Books," M. l'Abbé Fatacioli modestly states, "yes, like certain artificial compositions resemble the precious metal whose brilliance they imitate."
As the substance, they are "visions on the empire of Aquilon, on the superb throne, and on the powerful and harsh scepter." It is not difficult to recognize in these traits the Russian Empire. And these visions begin with that of a horrible, shapeless, immense monster... of a form that must be contained in the depths of dark hells... having two wings, and two tails, and four feet, and a tremendously wide belly, and a horribly large head, but... no chest. This unflattering emblem personifies, we believe, the all-powerful autocracy and the boundless ambition of the czars.
And these prophecies date back, at least the first ones, to the time of the great pontiff of Rome, named Pius and seventh in number, in the third year of the reign of the great Caesar of the West, who nurtured great plans in his heart and is the genius of battles, and in the sixth year of the reign of the prince of Aquilon, whose scepter is raised like an iron rod over infinite peoples, and who wears on his head a banner, a sign of his plans and hopes. - That is to say, the year 1807.
A part of these prophecies is nothing more than history arranged in biblical style, from that time until the recent Eastern war, which concludes this first half. The second part is entirely related to the future. It predicts even greater triumphs for Russia than those it has achieved so far, followed by a long series of catastrophes, and ultimately, its decline and complete fall, unless it returns to Catholicism and renounces its deceitful and deceptive orthodoxy. Returning to the bosom of the Church is the only means of salvation for Russia; otherwise, it will have the fatal fate, after having experienced success and power, of those fading empires of antiquity whose tragic destinies Scripture has prophesied for so long with striking accuracy. M. l'Abbé Fatacioli takes on the role of Jonah towards Nineveh in relation to Russia. By revealing to the reader what appears to us to be the main thought of this book, we take away from them the satisfaction of discovering it themselves. We only add, for those who wish to undertake this reading, that apart from the reservations expressed above, they will find qualities of vigor, verve, and imagination, as well as style, fire, and warmth, despite the monotony that necessarily results from the continuous use of an extraordinary and apocalyptic style.
Prophetic visions of a seer from Judah published by M. l'Abbé Fatacioli.
We have read this book with an anxious curiosity. We have been searching to grasp its fundamental idea, sometimes despairing of finding it, yet convinced, nonetheless, by the talent full of verve that several pages bear the imprint of, that beneath these images borrowed from prophetic style, there must be a true, more or less rich, more or less fruitful foundation. But genuine and serious.
It takes, we must admit, rare courage, a particularly active and persevering imagination, to write with calmness and a clear mind, as M. l'Abbé Fatacioli has done, a whole volume in intentionally symbolic and mysterious style. It exposes oneself to not be understood immediately, and nothing is more dangerous for a first work. Our century is so distracted, so carried away by a thousand preoccupations, so accustomed to seizing everything, to judging everything at a glance, that if it is required to seek and wait for the meaning, the explanation of any work, it willingly moves on, risking being accused of shallowness by the crowd of misunderstood, which have never been more numerous than in our time.
In the preface of his book - the only part that is written in the vernacular - M. l'Abbé Fatacioli seems to see style as a matter of fashion, a purely arbitrary garment subject, therefore, to all the whims of the times or the writer. This is an opinion open to discussion, but one that we do not want to examine here. We will only point out to him that, since there is fashion, he might have dressed his ideas a little more in line with the current one; the form would have been relatively less eccentric, and the substance would have remained the same.
We believe that inspired style presupposes inspiration, and that to maintain one's diction at the level of prophetic elevation throughout 232 pages, it takes more than verve, more than talent, more than imagination, and even more than genius; one must simply and purely be a prophet, a faculty that M. l'Abbé Fatacioli certainly does not claim for himself. All these attempts at biblical style have a double drawback: the first is that, by the very nature of things, they are condemned to present only the shell and appearance, to be nothing more than a more or less well-sustained play of wit; the second is that they make us too familiar with the august and venerable images of sacred words, and, what is even more serious, they pretend, through talent and imagination, not to equal or reproduce, but at least to simulate prophetic inspiration.
M. l'Abbé Fatacioli characterizes himself in a prologue, stating the form in which he believed he should clothe his ideas: "These are not the Holy Books," he has the supposed communicator of visions say, "but something that resembles them; it is a series of tableaux, descriptions, teachings, reproaches, and threats thrown with a certain ardent precipitation, interspersed with a kind of apparent disorder that seems to announce the approach of great, lugubrious or heroic, but inevitable events. The style of the prophet is sometimes lively and rapid, sometimes laborious and embarrassed; the turns of phrase are varied and multiple, sometimes brief, incisive, and vigorous, sometimes clear, easy, and flowing, and sometimes also harsh, agitated, incomplete, and even one could say extravagant... One feels that his agitated hand trembles under fervent inspirations, and one would say that he advances, leading the world towards something immense, solemn, or final. In describing his style, the author gives a sample. It is pompous, magnificent, resounding, but of such magnificence that it takes on another name. It is something that resembles the Holy Books," M. l'Abbé Fatacioli modestly states, "yes, like certain artificial compositions resemble the precious metal whose brilliance they imitate."
As the substance, they are "visions on the empire of Aquilon, on the superb throne, and on the powerful and harsh scepter." It is not difficult to recognize in these traits the Russian Empire. And these visions begin with that of a horrible, shapeless, immense monster... of a form that must be contained in the depths of dark hells... having two wings, and two tails, and four feet, and a tremendously wide belly, and a horribly large head, but... no chest. This unflattering emblem personifies, we believe, the all-powerful autocracy and the boundless ambition of the czars.
And these prophecies date back, at least the first ones, to the time of the great pontiff of Rome, named Pius and seventh in number, in the third year of the reign of the great Caesar of the West, who nurtured great plans in his heart and is the genius of battles, and in the sixth year of the reign of the prince of Aquilon, whose scepter is raised like an iron rod over infinite peoples, and who wears on his head a banner, a sign of his plans and hopes. - That is to say, the year 1807.
A part of these prophecies is nothing more than history arranged in biblical style, from that time until the recent Eastern war, which concludes this first half. The second part is entirely related to the future. It predicts even greater triumphs for Russia than those it has achieved so far, followed by a long series of catastrophes, and ultimately, its decline and complete fall, unless it returns to Catholicism and renounces its deceitful and deceptive orthodoxy. Returning to the bosom of the Church is the only means of salvation for Russia; otherwise, it will have the fatal fate, after having experienced success and power, of those fading empires of antiquity whose tragic destinies Scripture has prophesied for so long with striking accuracy. M. l'Abbé Fatacioli takes on the role of Jonah towards Nineveh in relation to Russia. By revealing to the reader what appears to us to be the main thought of this book, we take away from them the satisfaction of discovering it themselves. We only add, for those who wish to undertake this reading, that apart from the reservations expressed above, they will find qualities of vigor, verve, and imagination, as well as style, fire, and warmth, despite the monotony that necessarily results from the continuous use of an extraordinary and apocalyptic style.
M. Garcin is clearly treating the book as fiction, not an actual account of prophesy. Was this how the book was supposed to be understood, as a fictional story, or was it the actual writings of a man who lived an acetic life who had visions of the future? If it was the latter, then M. Garcin misunderstood what he was reviewing, but that seems doubtful. This review came out only a year after the publication, so he was a contemporary of the event, so probably he would have understood the context better than any of us in modern times.
Here is what I could find about the publication L'Ami de la religion from a Wikipedia article on it:
The article is linked HERE
The article is in French, but I put it through Chatster to give a rough translation:
L'Ami de la Religion et du roi, or simply L'Ami de la Religion from 1830 onwards, was a French Catholic magazine of the 19th century founded by Michel Picot in 1814. Its periodicity fluctuated throughout its publication: initially bi-weekly, it was printed three times a week during the July Monarchy before becoming a daily publication between 1849 and 1851. It returned to a tri-weekly format that year before returning to a daily format on March 16, 1859, until its publication ceased in 1862.
The magazine was created in 1814 by journalists, priests, and laypeople who were already working for the Annales ecclésiastiques. The journal succeeded the Mélange des littératures and the Journal des curés. In the prospectus announcing the creation of the journal, the editors stated their intention to write a newspaper dealing with everything that "interests religion." The early issues confirmed this direction. For example, the first issue contained articles on topics such as "Providence in the recent revolution," "The return of priests to the Congregation of Saint-Sulpice in the administration of the Seminary of Paris," as well as ecclesiastical appointments and the latest papal briefs from Pope Pius VII.
The journal remained loyal to the restored monarchy and had an ultramontane tone. In 1823, after the Spanish expedition, the journal facilitated the publication of a sister newspaper in Spain, El Restaurador.
In 1830, in response to the events of July, the journal suspended its publication for a week before reappearing under the name L'Ami de la Religion. However, it continued to defend the legitimist positions it had advocated until then.
The journal ceased publication in 1862.
The magazine was created in 1814 by journalists, priests, and laypeople who were already working for the Annales ecclésiastiques. The journal succeeded the Mélange des littératures and the Journal des curés. In the prospectus announcing the creation of the journal, the editors stated their intention to write a newspaper dealing with everything that "interests religion." The early issues confirmed this direction. For example, the first issue contained articles on topics such as "Providence in the recent revolution," "The return of priests to the Congregation of Saint-Sulpice in the administration of the Seminary of Paris," as well as ecclesiastical appointments and the latest papal briefs from Pope Pius VII.
The journal remained loyal to the restored monarchy and had an ultramontane tone. In 1823, after the Spanish expedition, the journal facilitated the publication of a sister newspaper in Spain, El Restaurador.
In 1830, in response to the events of July, the journal suspended its publication for a week before reappearing under the name L'Ami de la Religion. However, it continued to defend the legitimist positions it had advocated until then.
The journal ceased publication in 1862.
My provisional conclusions on this book are that it is most likely fiction and not a true prophesy as written down by a holy Catholic hermit. I base this on the following:
1. There is no account of the man Zacharie or his wife, or his daughter, or his friend and fellow hermit, that can be found anywhere, showing that he or his family actually existed. There is no documentation or sources provided by Mr. Flüe or anyone else that shows that these were real people. If there is, I would like to read it. The same can be said of the l'Abbé Fatacioli, as I could find nothing on him either, and as he was the one who published the book, it would be good to know, if he existed, or if this was just a pen name, and if he did exist, what he ever said about this book or the story behind it.
2. This review, L'Ami de la religion, is clearly not a lightweight publication, all one has to do is look through the table of contents to see the many subjects covered, and for a book reviewer in a publication like this to confuse actual prophesy with fiction would be a massive blunder on both the reviewer's part and the editor for letting such a mistake happen.
3. I think though, that the review did not make a blunder, and as they were contemporaries of the book, they understood it for what it was, and treated it as fiction, not as an account of prophesy.
There is much more that can be known about this story, so obviously my opinion on this is provisional, and if more evidence surfaces either way, then I will modify my thinking on this.