It is the frequent and mournful condition of many a precious soul, under the dark clouds of spiritual desertion or the heavy affliction of bodily melancholy, to apprehend themselves entirely swallowed up in total despair; yet it remains the unalterable covenant-grace of God that His children are never left without such a secret presence and support of His Holy Spirit as keeps them from final shipwreck. Though the felt sense of assurance may be utterly withdrawn, and the believer, like a bruised reed, can discern nothing in themselves but smoke and darkness, the root of faith abides invisibly preserved beneath the soil. As the chief casuists of the church—from Goodwin and Owen to Sibbes and Ridgley—have tenderly demonstrated, the Spirit's supporting hand in the dark is rarely measured by sensible comfort, but by that holy, secret tenacity which causes the downcast soul, even in its deepest agonies, to cry out from the depths and cast itself upon the bare mercy of Christ. To mistakingly judge the absence of light as the absence of life is to misapprehend the subtle workings of grace; for where there remains even a groaning desire after God, a unwillingness to depart from Him, and a casting of the soul upon His bare promise, there Christ is secretly sustaining the smoking flax, guaranteeing that while a saint may walk in deep darkness, they shall never sink into utter ruin.