In the first place, when the art is learned, it is the easiest form of preaching; and this is saying a good deal in an era of the conservation of energy. The other day my attention was called to an announcement of a series of Sunday evening discourses by a city pastor, on "The Gospel in Recent Fiction," in the course of which he proposed to speak of the spiritual and ethical teaching of some half-dozen of the popular novels of the day. I could not but think if he had put the same time and interest into the reading and analysis of as many books of the Bible, he would have worked less and accomplished more. It might be said he would not get as many people to hear him, but I doubt the truth of that statement, if it were known what he was going to do, and if he did it well. Moreover, there is another side to the question. The _Watchman_ says: "Time and again we have seen Sunday congregations increased greatly under the stimulus of what is called 'up-to-date' preaching, but the church as a spiritual body, effective for achieving the true ends of a church, became progressively weaker. The outsiders said that it was doing a tremendous work, but really it was not doing anything like the work it did in the days of its comparative obscurity." At the risk of enlarging upon this idea beyond its due proportion, it is difficult to resist the temptation to quote a further paragraph from the _Interior_, to the effect that "nothing is of less value to the church than a full house--except an empty one. We happened the other morning," says the editor, "--it was Monday--to meet the treasurer of an important city church whose doors had been crowded the night before. We congratulated him upon the success of his pastor in 'filling the pews.' 'Yes,' was the hesitating reply, 'he has filled the pews, and filled the vestibule, and filled the pulpit steps--but he has emptied the collection baskets. We have the biggest audience in the city, and will soon have the biggest debt.' In another city two thousand miles distant, and in another denomination, we came upon a church from whose doors hundreds were turned nightly away. Three years later we asked the principal layman how the church was doing now, and he replied, with a tinge of sadness, 'We had a grand debauch under Brother X., and we haven't quite recovered from it yet.'" [Sidenote: The Proper Way]