And, again, we would remark, it is, of all others, the most honorable period in which to begin a course of godliness. Religion is an ornament. Piety in any situation or age is pleasing to the Most High. It is well, when the world cannot fill our hearts, to turn our trembling steps from its broken cisterns to the fountain of living waters. It is a grand testimony to religion to see a gray and bent old man standing by the door of mercy and with loud and urging knocking imploring God to open and let him in; but it's exquisitely more attractive and noble to see a youth in the beauty and dew of his age giving himself to Christ and a life of high and holy virtues. Would you thank any one to offer you the shell without the kernel, or the stalk without the flower, or a purse without the money? And think you God is pleased with the dregs of the cup, the refuse and few declining years of a man's life? Is it fair and reasonable that men should employ their time and talents, their health and their strength, and their genius to serve Satan, the world, and the flesh, God's degrading rivals, and then ask Him to gather among the stubble of life after the enemy has secured the harvest? In the Old Testament God commanded that green ears had to be offered; the _first_ had to be chosen for His services: the _first_-born of man, the _first_-born of beasts, the _first_ fruits of the field. It was an honor becoming the Lord they worshiped to serve Him first. And, correspondingly, it is your duty in the New Testament that you should give Him the first-born of your days, the first fruits of your reason, the prime of your affections. It is with such sacrifices that God is well pleased. The Apostle John was the youngest disciple; he was called the disciple whom Jesus loved. It's the most suitable and honorable, and it is the most profitable and advantageous. It has its reward. That is our second consideration, _viz._, the beneficial results of early piety.