At all events, on February 2, a fortnight before the marriage, he writes as follows: “My brother told me he was _resolved to marry_. I was thunderstruck, and could only answer, he had given me the first blow, and his marriage would come like the _coup de grace_. Trusty Ned Perronet followed, and told me, the person was Mrs. Vazeille! one of whom I had never had the least suspicion. I refused his company to the chapel, and retired to mourn with my faithful Sally. I groaned all the day, and several following ones, under my own and the people’s burdens. I could eat no pleasant food, nor preach, nor rest, either by night or by day.” On the same day, Wesley himself wrote: “Having received a full answer from Mr. Perronet, I was clearly convinced, that I ought to marry. For many years, I remained single, because I believed I could be more useful in a single than in a married state. And I praise God, who enabled me so to do. I now as fully believed that, in my present circumstances, I might be more useful in a married state.” This is a curious entry. Can it be true that, up to this day, Wesley had not proposed marriage to Mrs. Vazeille? that Vincent Perronet’s letter brought him to a decision? that he acquainted his brother as soon as he had made up his mind? and that all the courtship preceding his marriage was really of not more than fifteen or sixteen days’ continuance? If so, no wonder that this, like most hasty marriages, was so unfortunate. This brief period was a curious episode in Wesley’s history. Four days after he told his brother that he “_was resolved to marry_” he strangely enough “met the single men” of the London society, “and showed them on how many accounts it was good for those who had received that gift from God, to remain ‘single for the kingdom of heaven’s sake;’ unless where a particular case might be an exception to the general rule.” His intention was to set out five days after this, on his journey to the north; but, on the day before he purposed starting, his feet slipped on the ice, in crossing London Bridge, and he fell with great force, the bone of his ankle lighting on a stone, and one of his legs being severely sprained. A surgeon bound up the leg; and, with great difficulty, he proceeded to Seven Dials, where he preached. He attempted to preach again, at the Foundery, at night; but his sprain became so painful, that he was obliged to relinquish his intention; and, at once, removed to Threadneedle Street, where Mrs. Vazeille resided; and here he spent the seven days next ensuing, “partly,” he says, “in prayer, reading, and _conversation_, and partly in writing a Hebrew grammar, and Lessons for Children.” During this brief period of enforced retirement, when he had purposed to be far on his way to the north of England, the _tete-a-tete_ unexpectedly issued in a marriage. The accident occurred on Sunday, February 10; on the Sunday following, he was “carried to the Foundery, and preached kneeling,”