About this time occurred a fact which delightfully shows how the enemies of this admirable man were often converted into friends. A colored trumpeter belonging to the English army resolved to interrupt him while delivering a sermon in the open air. For this purpose he went to the field, carrying his trumpet with him, intending to blow it with all his might about the middle of the sermon. He took his station in front of the minister, and at no great distance from him. The crowd became very great, and those who were towards the extremity pressed forward, that they might hear more distinctly, and caused such a pressure where the poor trumpeter stood, that he found it impossible at the time when he intended to blow his trumpet, to raise the arm which held it, by which means he was kept within the sound of the gospel as effectually as if he had been chained to the spot. In a short time his attention was powerfully arrested, and he became so deeply affected by the statements of the preacher, that he was seized with all the agonies of despair, and was carried to a house in the neighborhood. After the service, he was visited by Mr. Whitefield, who gave him suitable counsels, and from that time the trumpeter became a greatly altered man. So true is it in reference to the omnipotent and gracious Being, "Hearts base as hell he can control, And spread new powers throughout the whole." While preaching at Boston, he was delighted to observe that the sheriff, who had heretofore been the leader of the persecution against him, now began to hear him preach; and his pleasure was vastly increased, when he saw the crowds come around him to inquire as to their highest interests. Among these crowds was a somewhat remarkable gentleman of that city. He was a man of ready wit and racy humor, who delighted in preaching over a bottle to his ungodly companions. He went to hear Whitefield, that he might be furnished with matter for a "tavern harangue." When he had heard enough of the sermon for his purpose, he endeavored to quit the church for the inn, but "found his endeavors to get out fruitless, he was so pent up." While thus fixed, and waiting for "fresh matter of ridicule," the truth took possession of his heart. That night he went to Mr. Prince full of terror, and sought an introduction to ask pardon of the preacher. Whitefield says of him, "By the paleness, pensiveness, and horror of his countenance, I guessed he was the man of whom I had been apprized. 'Sir, can you forgive me?' he cried in a low, but plaintive voice. I smiled, and said, 'Yes, sir, very readily.' 'Indeed,' he said, 'you cannot when I tell you all.' I then asked him to sit down; and judging that he had sufficiently felt the lash of the law, I preached the gospel to him." This, with other remarkable conversions, gave increasing energy and influence to his preaching in Boston. "My bodily strength," he says, "is recovered, and my soul more than ever in love with a crucified Jesus."