The Life And Testimony Of Martha Mason

Gospel Standard 1870:

Death. At Yoxford, Suffolk, on April 13th, 1869, aged 18, Martha Mason.

After my daughter’s death, I found the following, written by her:

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“I will remember all the way the Lord hath led me. I was born in 1830, at Harleston, Norfolk, of God-fearing parents. My father was a Baptist minister. When I was about three weeks old my parents came to reside at Yoxford, in Suffolk. I, like all others, went from the womb speaking lies, being of a passionate, wayward temper. At the age of nine I lost my beloved father, who for six years preached at Sudbourne, near Orford, Suffolk. He was the instrument in the Lord’s hands of raising the cause of truth in that place. Through much persecution it prospered and grew. When it was first formed into a church it consisted of four women; now it numbers 40 members.

“When I was ten years of age, whilst staying at Sudbourne, Mr. B., of Tunstill, preached from Matt. 2:11-13; and the power of God accompanied that sermon to my soul. I felt I had no wedding garment on, and I felt condemned. These convictions never left me, but would return at times with such force that I would promise to be better.

“When at the age of 14, I visited Sudbourne again. While they were singing these lines:

“Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, 

Prone to leave the God I love,” &c.

“I was so overcome with a sight of my sins that I buried my face in my hands and wept. But after I got home I again joined my ungodly companions. This was to drown my thoughts, but I could not always do it, though I was kept from running into open sin.

“In July, 1866, I was again under deep concern for my soul. About this time one of my young companions died. I thought, as I heard the bell toll, “How hard it is to die so young! What a cruel God is ours! I do not wonder she did not want to die. I would not have died.” Then immediately a voice like thunder sounded in my ears. Never shall I forget it: “Who art thou that thou shouldst lift thy puny arms of rebellion against God? Knowest thou not he could crush thee in a moment?” My soul sank within me. The terrors of hell gat hold upon me. O that horrible darkness! I could not pray; I felt I was lost, until one day I cried unto the Lord, “Help me, O Lord, me!” O the agony I endured! Satan told me it was no use for me to pray, for only the elect are saved; and when I tried to pray my mouth was filled with such blasphemous thoughts, oaths, and cursings that I had to put something in my mouth to keep them in; but Satan said, “You have it inside, and that is as bad as letting it out,” such language as I never heard uttered. I was greatly tempted to believe there was no God; but I could not, for I felt then in my inmost soul there was a God. Sometimes I wished there was none; for I felt the sword of justice over my guilty head, unsheathed and raised, just ready to cut me down. I kept on crying and sighing more and more earnestly; for I now felt I could do nothing, and if Jesus did not save me I should be lost, for ever lost.

“But how true it is, “Man’s extremity is God’s opportunity.” At length God heard my cry. He heard and instantly sent salvation. Yes, blessed be his holy name, he sent these words home with life-giving power: “I am the Lord, I change not; therefore ye sons of Jacob are not consumed. Fear not, I am thy God. I will help thee.” The weight of sorrow was gone. The Lord turned my mourning into gladness; my sorrow into joy. Now I could sing, “What shall I render unto the Lord for all his benefits to me, a guilty, hell-deserving sinner?”

“But these joys did not last long. My fears returned. Satan said, “You will never be saved; you are not one of the elect.” What with my own evil heart and that cursed thing unbelief, I felt almost in despair. I envied a cat or a dog. My soul chose strangling, and death rather than life. I went to hear an Independent minister; but, alas! I got no comfort, for I could not do what they told me. I tried all the chapels in the place; but could not find what I wanted. I returned home and asked the Lord to show me; when he again broke the snare. These words came into my mind with power: “Whosoever shall confess me before men, him will I confess also before my Father,” &c. (Matt. 10:32, 33.) O! I felt a desire to walk in his most holy ways; and as I was alone with God and my Bible, pleading the blood of Jesus, he spoke to me in a still small voice: “I have loved thee with an everlasting love; therefore with lovingkindness have I drawn thee.” O, the joy of my heart! I felt Jesus was mine; he died for me.

“In March, 1867, the Lord laid his afflicting hand on me and one of my sisters. For three months I was confined to my home; but in June I went to my sister’s at Aldborough. Here the Lord interposed on my behalf. Dear mother, the Sunday morning I received your letter Satan told me I should not be able to tell the church what the Lord had done for my soul; but, blessed be his holy name, he has been better to me than all my doubts and fears. This passage upheld me greatly: “Fear not, for I am with thee; be not dismayed, I am thy God.”

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My child wrote no more.

In justice to her memory, I must say I never found one so zealous for the truth of God from the time she joined the church. For a whole twelvemonth she walked twelve miles once a month to be at the ordinance. I remember one Saturday it was wet, but in the afternoon it was fine. I tried to persuade her not to go, as the roads were bad. She looked at me, and said, “Mother, I must go.” But when the Lord laid his afflicting hand upon her she was quite resigned. Her peace, she sometimes said, flowed like a river. Satan was permitted to trouble her only once, and that for only a short time. She was confined to her bed for six weeks; and O it was happiness to be with her. I felt it to be a paradise. She said to me, “Mother, are you low in your mind?” “Not very,” I replied. She said immediately, “I am full of glory.”

On the Sunday before her death, she said to her sister, “I am so happy, so very, very happy.” Her sister remarked, “Then you find Christ precious?” “Yes,” she said, “very precious.”

A few minutes before she died, she seemed pleased her end was so near, and exclaimed, “Mother, my feet are dead.” I said, “Is the valley dark, dear?” “No; all light.” An aged sister came from Sudbourne in time to see her, one of the females her dear father baptized.

My dear girl chose for her funeral text Ps. 73:24.

M.