There was a friend of mine in Philadelphia going by a drinking saloon one night, and he saw in that saloon a professed Christian playing cards.  He just took a pencil, wrote on a card, and saw a little boy and said, "My boy, here is some money. I want you to do an errand for me. You see that man on the side of the table where those three are playing cards with him?" Says he, "Yes I do." "Well," says my friend, "just take that card to him." The boy started, and my friend watched him when he handed this card to him. What was written on the card was, "Ye are my witnesses." The man took the card, looked at it, sprang to his feet, and rushing out into the street asked the boy where the card came from. The boy said, "A man over there gave it to me." But the man had slipped away, and the poor man died a few months afterwards. "Ye are my witnesses." Wherever you find a professed Christian going in bad company, you may look for something worse.