RIGDUM FUNNIDOS lamenteth, that there are, in this our day, among those who do seek to subvert the venerable usages of our ancestors, divers vauntings and boastings as to what they do most affectedly and erroneously term "the growing intelligence of the age,"—"the march of intellect," and such-like absurd phraseologies. This irreverent spirit doth manifest itself in unseemly comparisons, between the times which are past, and those which are present, which do end in a preferring, to the wisdom of the olden time, their own newfangled and presumptuous theories. Nay, there be even those who do maintain, that what the lamented FRANCIS MOORE did, and other equally wise admirers of the by-gone past do, venerate as the _olden_ time, is, in very sooth, the _juvenile_ time; inasmuch as time groweth older every day, and, as a necessary consequence thereof, every succeeding generation groweth wiser. It profiteth not to waste words on such manifest absurdity; suffice it therefore to say, that RIGDUM FUNNIDOS hath, with much cost and travail, assemblaged what may be most worthily intituled, a fair sample of '_collective wisdom_' wherein will be found, most conspicuously shown forth, the worthiness of our ancestors to the designation of _Wise_.

"Concerning the superstitious use of what is called the Glorious Hand, or Hand of Glory, by housebreakers in their robberies, we have the following account:—The pretended use of this glorious hand is to stupify or stun all those who are present, and render them perfectly insensible. This glorious hand is the hand of a hanged criminal, prepared in the following manner:—It is wrapped up in a bit of winding-sheet, very tight, to force out the small remainder of blood, then put into an earthen vessel with zimat, saltpetre, salt, and long pepper, all well pulverised, after which, 'tis left fifteen days in that pot, then taken out and exposed to the hottest sun of dog days, till it becomes very dry; and if the sun be not hot enough, they dry it in an oven heated with fern and vervain; then they make a sort of candle of the grease of the hanged man, virgin wax, and Lapland sefanum, and they make use of this glorious hand as a candlestick, to hold this candle when lighted; and in all places wherever they come with this fatal instrument, everybody they find there becomes immoveable. We are also told, that it is to no purpose for thieves to make use of this glorious hand, if the threshold of the door, or other places by which they may enter, be rubbed over with an unguent, composed of the gall of a black cat, the fat of a white hen, and the blood of an owl, and that this composition be made in the dog days."—_Tr. of Little Albert_, p. 34.

The Comic Almanack, Volume 1 (of 2) — Part 17