The History of Sabatai Sevi, the Suppos'd Messiah of the Jews

(1669)
Introduction by Christopher W. Grose
PUBLICATION NUMBER 131 WILLIAM ANDREWS CLARK MEMORIAL LIBRARY University of California, Los Angeles 1968
GENERAL EDITORS George Robert Guffey, University of California, Los Angeles Maximillian E. Novak, University of California, Los Angeles Robert Vosper, William Andrews Clark Memorial Library ADVISORY EDITORS Richard C. Boys, University of Michigan James L. Clifford, Columbia University Ralph Cohen, University of Virginia Vinton A. Dearing, University of California, Los Angeles Arthur Friedman, University of Chicago Louis A. Landa, Princeton University Earl Miner, University of California, Los Angeles Samuel H. Monk, University of Minnesota Everett T. Moore, University of California, Los Angeles Lawrence Clark Powell, William Andrews Clark Memorial Library James Sutherland, University College, London H. T. Swedenberg, Jr., University of California, Los Angeles CORRESPONDING SECRETARY Edna C. Davis, William Andrews Clark Memorial Library

And you should if you please refuse Till the conversion of the Jews.
The reader of John Evelyn's History of Sabatai Sevi, The Pretended Messiah of the Jewes or of the History of the Three Late Famous Impostors (1669) in which it is the most significant part, discovers a fascinating, if unoriginal, addition to the work of the great diarist and dilettante, the amateur student of engraving and trees—and smoke. Evelyn's work was almost totally derived from the account of Sir Paul Rycaut, who was from 1661 secretary (and later consul) for the Levant mercantile company in Smyrna. Rycaut was in fact responsible for what first-hand reporting there is in the History , and Evelyn's book preceded by only eleven years Rycaut's History of the Turkish Empire 1623-1677 , where the story first appeared under the author's own name.
Whatever the appeal of Sevi's story may be for modern readers—as a mode of fiction, perhaps, or an instance of mass hysteria—Evelyn's discovery of an exemplum for religious and political enthusiasts may seem forced or reductive. In 1669, however, the interest of Englishmen in Jewish affairs was by no means merely academic—or narrowly commercial. There were, it is true, English sportsmen in 1666 who were actually betting on the Sevi career—ten to one that the Messiah of Ismir would be crowned King of Jerusalem within two years. And what was most disturbing about Sevi to the English nation as a whole was perhaps the disruption of trade, in which Sevi's father was intimately involved, as the agent of an English mercantile house. At the height of the furor, Jewish merchants were dissolving businesses as well as unroofing their houses in preparation for the return to Jerusalem. But the prime significance for Evelyn—perhaps more than for Rycaut—is revealed in the instinctive mental connection between Jewish and Christian history, or ways of thinking about history, on the one hand, and political realities in England on the other. Only nine years had passed since the return of Charles II and the displacement of the Protectorate, with its remarkable Jewish elements. As for the return of the Christian Messiah and an imminent reign of the saints, Sevi might well have reminded Evelyn of the English impostor, the Quaker Jacob Naylor, whose messianic claims were publicly examined at Bristol in 1657. Far more important to Englishmen of the period, however, was the episode involving the mission of the Amsterdam rabbi Menasseh ben Israel to Cromwell's England in 1655, a year after Naylor's first appearance.