The fearful stage of debasement when the tendency to sin is like the craving for stimulants, as a condition without which there can be no repose.—Plumptre.
The trouble of others is the rest of the wicked.—Jermin.
Just as bread forms the flesh, and makes it grow, according as it is eaten, so wickedness is the food of the spirit. “My meat is,” says Christ, “to do the will of Him that sent me, and to finish His work” (John iv. 34). “Thy words were found, and I did eat them” (Jer. xv. 16). So in chap. i. 31. “Therefore shall they eat of the fruit of their own way”—the meaning being, that a man’s way, spiritually considered, is all that forms him. He feeds upon it. If it is righteous, it nourishes him in life. If it is wicked, it nourishes him in death. He feeds on food of wickedness, and grows exactly in proportion as he sins. His very life is in its very self a deadly self-banqueting.—Miller.
They sin, not of frailty, but of malice; not by occasion, as it were, but by an insatiable desire of committing wickedness.—Muffet.
Verse 18. He sets forth betime in the morning and travels to meet the day.
The sun is an emblem, not of the just, but of the Justifier. Christ alone is the light of the world. The just are those whom the Sun of Righteousness shines upon. . . . When any portion of the earth’s surface begins to experience a dawn diminishing its darkness, it is because that portion is gradually turning round towards the sun, the centre of light fixed in the heavens. When any part of the earth lies away from the sun, and in proportion to the measure of its aversion, it is dark and cold, in proportion as it turns to him again its atmosphere grows clearer, until in its gradual progress it comes in sight of the sun, and its day is perfect then. So is the path of the just. Day is not perfect here in the believer’s heart . . . but the machinery of the everlasting covenant is meantime going softly and silently as the motion of the spheres; and they that are Christ’s here, whatever clouds dim their present prospect, are wearing every moment farther from the night, and nearer to the day.—Arnot.
There is a day to be which shall be a day indeed, without cloud, without night, without morning, without evening. Unto this day leadeth the path of the righteous, and which going on, shineth more and more, until at last when it seemeth to go out, it shall be received into that light which never goeth out.—Jermin.
Light is emblematical of knowledge, holiness, and joy. The three bear invariable proportion to each other—holiness springing from knowledge, and joy from both. . . . “The entrance of God’s word gives light.” But the entrance of this light into the mind is often, like the early dawn, feeble, glimmering, uncertain. . . . But it does not abide so. . . . He who is enlightened from above is eager for more of the blessed light. He thirsts for knowledge, and is on the alert to obtain it. . . . With growth in knowledge there is growth in holiness. At the first dawn of spiritual light some faint desires are felt after God and sanctity. These progressively increase, and they show their influence in the increase of practical godliness. . . . And joy is the natural attendant of spiritual illumination and inward sanctity. It, too, is progressive. Like the sun in every stage of his diurnal course, it may be overcast by occasional clouds. But as the sun appears the brighter on his emerging from the cloudy veil, so the trials of the just serve to give lustre to their virtues.—Wardlaw.
Verse 19. It is interesting to note the resemblance between these words and those of our Lord (John xi. 10; xii. 35).—Plumptre.
Strange enough: it is a confessed darkness. There is a sort of common light that tells a man that impenitence is darkness. And yet it does not teach him better. Like mere physical light at times, some chemical ray is absent. The darkness that remains is a darkness that may be felt. It constitutes our eternal chains (2 Pet. ii. 4); it binds a man on the car of ruin. And like a Christian, who, in his partial light, may fail to know what is blessing him, so the sinner in his absolute darkness, takes industry for virtue, and family love for wholesome righteousness; and does not know the incidents of life that are stumbling blocks to eternal ruin.—Miller.