Widnes Examiner. — 1891-03-21 (Widnes, Cheshire, England)

FLETT'S (3ELEBRATED MARMALADE. NOW READY.  and in other ways endeavour to buy off that remorse which. must of necessity afflict their thoughtful moments, but, sir, a shadow thick and dark overhangs all their "benevolence." The blasted lives of drink-sodden men, and the curses of ruined women and the tears of bereaved little ones by the scores of thousands daily accumulate and must sooner or later be atoned for—by whom? Will not the men whose present opulence, whose palatial residences—always situate far away from the scenes of desolation which inevitably accompany their "pest houses" —whose dashing equipages and ever-increasing estates have been purchased at a cost to this pegple, greater than the accumulated evils of war, pestilence and famine— will these men go scot-free at the time of the "great account ?" I leave it to your readers to judge for themselves, but suffice it for me to say,that all the generosity, church and school building, almsgivings, and accumulated benevolence of all the brewers and publicans combined, are but as a drop of pure water,which falling into the filthy cesspool of evil which their trade is daily inflicting upon us, does no lasting good. If my friend is so vexed with the Rev. H. P. Hughes, let me commend to his notice the words in which John Wesley described "Pluto's" clients—he says :—" All who sell them (intoxicating liquors) in the common way to any that will buy are poisoners general. They murder His Majesty's subjects by wholesale, neither does their eye pity or spare. They drive them to hell like sheep; and what is their gain? Is it not the blood of these men? Who would envy their large estates and sumptuous palaces? A curse is in the midst of them. The curse of God cleaves to the stoles, the timber, the furniture of them. The curse of God is in their gardens, their walks, their groves, a fire that burns to the nethermost hell. Blood, blood is there; the foundation, the walls, the floor, the roof, are stained with blood! And can'st thou hope, 0 thou man of blood! tho' thou art clothed in scarlet and fine linen,and farest sumptuously every day, canst thou hope to deliver down thy fields of blood to the third generation? Not so,for there is a God in heaven, therefore thy name shall be rooted out. Like as those whom thou hast destroyed, both body and soul, thy memorial shall perish with thee.'" I repeat and endorse emphatically, the assertion of the Rev. H. P. Hughes, viz:, that "any professing Christian who votes for a brewer or a publican is a Christian humbug," and I commend John Wesley's words to the serious consideration, not only of "Pluto," but of every Christian of every denomination,with a perfect confidence that, if they are carefully and seriously pondered, they will result in the ultimate casting out of the "Imelean thing" which at present so largely dominates every social, political, and religious effort. And now, sir, just another word in conclusion. " Pluto " says that we are constantly "hunting for stinks." Would to God it were necessary to hunt for these ill-savoured foulnesses! Instead of that being the case, they meet us at every street corner, and thrust their hideous excrescences upon our notice at every hour of the day and night. The duration of the present condition of things depends upon the common-sense of our peoßle ; and those who can read the signs of the times are full of hope that in the near future we shall do much towards the removal of our national disgrace.—Yours, &c.,