RICHARD PICKETT was a native of Tockenham, a small rural village about three miles and a half from the market town of Wootton Bassett, in the northern district of the county of Wilts.
In early life he entered the service of the Great Western Railway Company as porter, and, when young, was promoted to the position of goods-guard.
One evening, after Richard had finished his work, he was attracted by some singing at an open-air gospel service, held between the railway station and his home. He stayed while the service lasted, and gladly accepted a hymn book which was offered him. He felt then, as he afterwards said, that these Christians had something he had not, and he went to his home deeply convinced of his need as a sinner, and anxious concerning the salvation of his soul.
From that time Richard was constrained to go to gospel meetings, for the Spirit of God was striving with him. At last he opened out his heart to an evangelist, and told him the state of his soul. Several Christians prayed for him, and pleaded with him as the Holy Spirit convinced him of the dreadful reality of living without God and Christ in this world, and of the awful future which lay before him should he die in the condition in which he had hitherto lived.
He was afraid to meet God, and trembled when on duty, and when getting under the railway trucks, lest he should be killed and perish forever.
At last, while on his journey to Aberdare, the light shone into Richard's soul; he saw that Jesus had suffered and died on Calvary's cross for him, and there and then he fled to Jesus for pardon. Then peace, like a river, flowed into his soul.
From that time he was very happy, and always had a cheerful smile and a warm shake of the hand for his Christian friends. Many noticed the change in him; but his worldly companions thought him strange. After he had received Christ he felt no fear of death.
The writer of these lines has been at many Bible readings and open-air meetings with Richard. His questions showed his earnest study of the Word of God. He would often say, “I want to know the right meaning, as I am only a babe yet; for when I meet my mates, if I am not correct, they would contradict me."
The Bible was Richard's daily companion; he delighted to feed on its sacred contents, drinking the milk of the word, and growing thereby. He ate of the heavenly manna, and drank from the living stream, and, living on Christ, he fed and watered others. Many times, when preaching the gospel, he would tell his hearers how well he once had worked for his old master, the devil, and what a bad master he had found him to be, for after he had served him faithfully he was afraid to meet death to receive his wages. But now he had changed masters, and was not afraid to meet his new Master, but longed to see Him. His new Master, was the Lord Jesus Christ, and He paid him good wages.
Nor was Richard unmindful of the bodily comfort of others.
“Shelter yourself, dear brother, as well as you can," he said, lovingly, to a fellow Christian one cold evening at the open-air preaching; "we that are stronger can stand the cold winds better than you." While speaking to the perishing with his strong manly voice he would extol his Savior, and point them to Calvary, and to Jesus, the sinner's Friend! He would often say what a grand thing it was to work for One who loved him so well as to die for him. When speaking of the bright home that awaited him, his eyes would sparkle with delight, but, when speaking of his Savior's agony, His cross and death, he was at times moved even to tears.
A few days before the accident that ended his mortal life, his friends remarked how anxious he was for others to be saved, and how happy he seemed to be. At a prayer meeting, two days before he fell asleep in Jesus, he prayed most earnestly that his wife might be preserved, and that his dear little ones might be saved.
He left Swindon the last time on a Tuesday, and, on returning the next day, overbalanced himself, missed his footing, and fell under the trucks, the wheels passed over both his legs, severing them from his body.
His comrades picked him up, and conveyed him to a hospital, and he begged them to communicate the tidings to his wife as gently as possible, so that she might not be frightened. His suffering was intense, yet he was very happy, and was sensible to the last, trusting the Lord whom he had faithfully served, and for whom he had waited.
The last few words he was heard to speak were, “Lord, take me! Lord, take me! I am ready, I am waiting." Then his happy spirit took its flight to be with the Lord, away from pain and toil, sorrow and death. The Lord had need of him.
His poor tabernacle was conveyed to his home, and, on the Sunday, over one hundred of his fellow workmen—railway-guards, porters, engine-drivers, and fire-men, together with a large number of his Christian friends, attended his funeral. Many hundreds watched the long train as they slowly conveyed him to his last resting-place on earth.
This guard was a Christian of only five years, and had to work hard to support his wife and family, yet he found time to work for his dear Lord and Savior, and many times walked eight miles on Sundays to preach the gospel to others.
Christian reader, what are you doing for your Master? Unsaved reader, if you were called away as suddenly as was Richard Pickett, could you say with him: “Lord, take me! I am ready, I am waiting"? W. B.