Gathered in small clusters about the pillars at the lower
extremities of the gold and silver streets in Lisbon, may be
observed, about noon in every day, certain strange looking men,
whose appearance is neither Portuguese nor European. Their dress
generally consists of a red cap, with a blue silken tassel at the
top of it, a blue tunic girded at the waist with a red sash, and
wide linen pantaloons or trousers. He who passes by these groups
generally hears them conversing in broken Spanish or Portuguese,
and occasionally in a harsh guttural language, which the oriental
traveller knows to be the Arabic, or a dialect thereof. These
people are the Jews of Lisbon. Into the midst of one of these
groups I one day introduced myself, and pronounced a beraka, or
blessing. I have lived in different parts of the world, much
amongst the Hebrew race, and am well acquainted with their ways and
phraseology. I was rather anxious to become acquainted with the
state of the Portuguese Jews, and I had now an opportunity. "The
man is a powerful rabbi," said a voice in Arabic; "it behoves us to
treat him kindly." They welcomed me. I favoured their mistake,
and in a few days I knew all that related to them and their traffic
in Lisbon.

I found them a vile, infamous rabble, about two hundred in number.
With a few exceptions, they consist of escapados from the Barbary
shore, from Tetuan, from Tangier, but principally from Mogadore;
fellows who have fled to a foreign land from the punishment due to
their misdeeds. Their manner of life in Lisbon is worthy of such a
goodly assemblage of amis reunis. The generality of them pretend
to work in gold and silver, and keep small peddling shops; they,
however, principally depend for their livelihood on an extensive
traffic in stolen goods which they carry on. It is said that there