Although living in great poverty, and subsisting at times on casual charity, with health impaired by the sufferings through which she had passed, yet neither promises of protection, accompanied with the offer of the good things of this life, on the one hand, nor the dreadful persecution she endured on the other, could make her relinquish the office of a minister of the Gospel. This office she continued to exercise, holding meetings regularly on the first day of the week, at her own little habitation, where a greater number at times assembled than could be accommodated in the house. It may be interesting to add some particulars relative to the trial of her faith and the persecution she suffered. One individual in whose neighborhood she lived, who was much annoyed by hearing her sing and pray, offered, if she would desist, to provide her with a home and the comforts of life; but she replied, she had received a commission to preach the Gospel, and she would preach it as long as she had breath. Several ill-intentioned persons one night surrounded her house, and commanded her to come out to them. This she refused to do. After threatening her for some time, they forced open the door, and having seized their victim, they beat her cruelly, so that her head was deeply indented with the blows she received. At another time she was so much injured that she was left nearly lifeless on the open road, whither she had fled to escape from them; but her unsuccessful efforts increased the rage of her pursuers, and after treating her with the utmost barbarity, they left her. She was found after some time, but so exhausted by the loss of blood that she was unable to walk, and from the effects of that cruelty she did not recover for years. But it may be said of her, that she joyfully bore persecution for Christ's sake. A man who lived in the same village, being much incensed at the undaunted manner in which she stood forth as a minister of the meek and crucified Saviour, swore that he would beat her severely if ever he found an opportunity. One evening, as she was walking home on a solitary road, she saw this person riding towards her. She knew his intentions, and from his character she did not doubt that he would execute them. She trembled from head to foot, escape seemed impracticable, and prayer was her only refuge. As he advanced, she observed that his handkerchief fell and was wafted by the wind to a little distance. She picked it up, he stopped his horse, and she handed it to him in a submissive manner; he looked at her fiercely for a moment, when his countenance softened; he took it, saying, "Well, Clarinda," and passed on.