I recollect once that I was taking tea at Joe's house, when there were present, besides myself, Mrs. Merrick and several gentlemen. Joe was in a very glorious state; so intoxicated, indeed, that he could scarcely hold up his head. The Elect Lady, Emma, having left the room in disgust at her husband's beastly state, the Prophet began to fancy that we were all suspiciously observing him; and I shall never forget the ludicrous gravity in which he leaned forward over the table, and addressing Mrs. Merrick, hiccoughed out, "Sister--Merrick--do--you--feel--RUINED?" Joe took the bowl of Bacchus that day with a perfect looseness!