IN riding late one night along a lonely country road, a traveler observed at a little distance a dark object standing in the shadow of the thicket on the edge of a swamp by the roadside. His horse showed by his manner, as he pricked his ears and advanced more cautiously, that he saw it too; but his rider, supposing it to be merely some: rural policeman doing duty for the night, rode on, not even turning his head as he passed the spot to notice whether the person was still there or not. On several occasions afterwards the traveler in approaching the same place at night observed the same dark object, erect, and silent in the gloom and solitude of the swamp, but, still assuming that it was a policeman, took-no further notice. At last one night, on seeing it again; it suddenly occurred to him as strange that a policeman should be always watching in that solitary place. There was no farm-house or other dwelling near, no property to guard; a lonely swamp, a deserted road, and boundless fields on every hand, did not need a watchman, and if they did, it was, so the rider thought, an unusual place to choose to stand in. Well, thinking thus as he approached, he turned, when opposite the spot, to look more closely at his strange silent acquaintance, but when he did so there was no one there! The swamp bordering the road lay dark and deep beyond the thicket, in the shadow of which the silent object had so often seemed to stand, but he had vanished. What had become of him? Where had he gone to so suddenly? Behind the thicket there was no standing room — nothing but water and rushes — and he could not have plunged into the swamp without so much as being heard to move. Was it a policeman at all? It had been plain enough in the gloom, seen from a distance of no more than a dozen yards, a dark bulky object about the height and size of a well-grown man, dressed in clothing some shades darker than the bushes beside him, and now there was no one there! What could it be? No answer could be got out of that solitude to these questions, and so the traveler rode away resolved to try and clear up the mystery the next time he passed. Well, a few nights afterward he went by the same place again, but this time on foot. Again, as he turned the bend in the road, he saw the same dark object standing at a little distance before him, just as a policeman may sometimes be seen to do, half concealed, in the gap of the thicket; and, as he advanced, the traveler thought he could even catch a glimpse of a face and hands, the latter appearing to be clasped in front like a soldier when he “stands at ease.” This time the traveler crossed the road, and went right up to the spot as rapidly as he could, but even before he quite reached it he could see, in spite of the gloom, that the space where it had seemed to stand was vacant. There was nothing there! It was but a phantom after all! A white rail ran along by the swamp side, and ended at a little gap where the thicket stood. Behind lay the swamp, and the dark sombre green of its herbage thrown into prominence by the white rail, and taking a form from the shape of the gap, had looked in the gloom like a man in dark clothes, standing night after night erect and still on the verge of the swamp; while the breaks in the foliage, where the gray sky shone through, gave the phantom the appearance of face and hands. The traveler felt some little disappointment to find there was really nothing there; and, although he has often passed the place since, he has never been able to conjure up the phantom again. The fact is, as the summer has advanced, the thicket in growing has altered the form of the gap, which of course has taken a different shape, and the dark green swamp has become bright with wild flowers, so that the sombre shade it once threw into the gap is gone, and the phantom of the swamp has vanished, to return no more.
Now, I think we may get some useful lessons out of all this. In the first place, you see how those foolish ghost stories which some people believe in, and frighten children with, take their rise. It is not at all unlikely that if any of the country people, in passing that spot late at night, have seen what the traveler saw, they have given out that the swamp is haunted, and numbers will believe it without looking further into the matter; and this is the more probable because the traveler never remembers meeting anyone after dark near that spot. And yet, you see, it was nothing but a shadow, a delusion of the eye. And are there no other delusions, no other phantoms than those that shadows make? Yes, indeed. The hope of happiness which is founded on things of this world is a Phantom of the Swamp — all delusion, all unreal! At a distance it looks plain enough; the poor heart says, There is happiness at hand; the eye can see it not far off, and, eager to get it, people hurry on — little people and big ones too; and, just when they reach the point where they thought to find it, there is nothing there. How many have been and are being thus deceived! There is really no such thing, nor ever has been since sin came into the world, and death by sin. This world, where the dear Son of God found only a cross and a grave, is “the valley of the shadow of death,” darker than any wintry swamp, and its fancied happiness is but a phantom. King Solomon, you know, found it so, and no man ever had so much opportunity as he of finding out what this world’s happiness is (Eccl. 12:88Vanity of vanities, saith the preacher; all is vanity. (Ecclesiastes 12:8)). True happiness is to be found in Christ alone. There it is real, there it is abiding; “He that cometh to me,” says Jesus, “shall never hunger, and, he that believeth on me shall never thirst.” “Blessed with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ,” the believer possesses a happiness that is real and everlasting. If, then, you have never yet done so, I hope you will come to Jesus now, that you may be made happy in Him forever. To have all your sins forgiven will be happiness indeed, and this you may have now if you believe in the Lord Jesus Christ; and more than this: for “eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath entered into the heart of man the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him; but He hath revealed them unto us by His Spirit,” and now offers them to all who come to Jesus. How much better is this happiness than the vain pursuit and promise of this poor world — that utter delusion of the enemy, The Phantom of the Swamp!
J. L. K.