Chapter IV. How to Know When You Have Entered Into Temptation

These things being premised in general, I proceed to the consideration of three particular cases arising from the truth proposed. The first relates to the thing itself; the second to the time or season of it; and the last to our conduct in reference to the prevention of the evil treated of.

First, then, it may be inquired:

First: how a man may know when he has entered into temptation.

Second: what seasons there are in which a man may and ought to fear that an hour of temptation is at hand.

Third: what directions are to be given for the preventing of our entering into temptation.

How shall a man know whether he has entered into temptation? I say then:

First: when a man is drawn into any sin, he may be sure he has entered into temptation. All sin is from temptation (James 1:14) — sin is a fruit that comes only from that root. Though a man be never so suddenly or violently surprised in or with any sin, yet it is from some temptation or other that he has been so surprised. This men sometimes take no notice of, to their great disadvantage: when they are overtaken with a sin, they set themselves to repent of that sin but do not consider the temptation that was the cause of it, to set themselves against that also and to take care that they enter no more into it. Hence they are quickly again entangled. He that would indeed get the conquest over any sin must consider his temptations to it and strike at that root; without deliverance from thence, he will not be healed.

This is a folly that possesses many who yet have a quick and living sense of sin: they are sensible of their sins, not of their temptations — displeased with the bitter fruit but cherishing the poisonous root. Hence in the midst of their humiliations for sin they continue in those ways, societies, and pursuits of those ends which have been the occasion of it.

Second: temptations have several degrees. Some arise to such a height and so press on the soul, so torment and disquiet it, so fight against all opposition, that it must be past all doubt to the one so assaulted that it is a peculiar power of temptation he is to wrestle with. When a fever rages, a man knows he is sick. The lusts of men, as James tells us, entice, draw away, and seduce them to sin — but this they do of themselves, without peculiar instigation, in a more quiet and sedate manner. If they grow violent, if they hurry the soul about and give it no rest, the soul may know that they have gotten the help of some temptation to this assistance.

Take an empty vessel and put it into a stream that is running to the sea: it will infallibly be carried there according to the course and speed of the stream. But let strong winds arise upon it, and it will be driven with violence on every bank and rock, until being broken in pieces it is swallowed up in the ocean. Men's lusts will infallibly — if not mortified in the death of Christ — carry them into eternal ruin, but oftentimes without much noise, according to the course of the stream of their corruptions. But let the wind of strong temptations befall them, they are hurried into innumerable scandalous sins and, broken on all accounts, are swallowed up in eternity.

Hezekiah had the root of pride in him always, yet it did not make him run about to show his treasure and his riches until he fell into temptation by the ambassadors of the king of Babylon. So had David — yet he could keep from numbering the people until Satan stood up and provoked and solicited him to do it. Judas was covetous from the beginning, yet he did not contrive to satisfy it by selling his Master until the devil entered into him, and he thereby into temptation. The like may be said of Abraham, Jonah, Peter, and the rest. So when any lust or corruption tumults and disquiets the soul, putting it with violence on sin, the soul may know — though it may not yet perceive wherein — that temptation has gotten some advantage over it, and it is to be looked to more than ordinarily.

Third: entering into temptation may be seen even in the least degrees of it — as, for instance, when the heart begins secretly to like the matter of the temptation and is content to feed it and increase it by any ways it may, without downright sin.

For example: when a man begins to be in repute for piety, wisdom, or learning, and his heart is tickled to hear of it and his pride and ambition affected by it — if this man now with all his strength plies the very things from which his esteem springs, with a secret eye to have it increased, he is entering into temptation, which if he does not take heed will quickly render him a slave to lust. So it was with Jehu, who perceived that his reputation for zeal was growing abroad — when Jonadab came in his way he thought, I have an opportunity to grow in the honor of my zeal, and set to work most earnestly. The things he did were good in themselves, but he had entered into temptation and served his lust in all that he did. So it is with many scholars: they find themselves esteemed for their learning; this takes hold of the pride and ambition of their hearts; hence they set themselves to study with all diligence — a thing good in itself — but doing it to satisfy the thoughts and words of men in which they delight, they make provision for the flesh to fulfill the lusts thereof.

It is true that God oftentimes brings light out of this darkness and turns things to a better issue. After a man has perhaps studied many years with an eye upon his lusts — his ambition, pride, and vainglory — God comes in with his grace, turns the soul to himself, and so robs those Egyptian lusts and consecrates to the use of the Tabernacle what was provided for idols.

Men may be thus entangled in better things than learning — even in the profession of piety, in their labor in the ministry, and the like.

Some men's profession is a snare to them: they are in reputation, and are much honored on the account of their profession and strict walking. This often falls out in days where all things are carried by parties; some find themselves to be the glory of their party. If thoughts of this secretly insinuate themselves into their hearts and influence them into more than ordinary diligence and activity in their way and profession, they are entangled; and instead of aiming at more glory, they need to lie in the dust in a sense of their own vileness. This temptation often requires no other food than that he who is entangled with it do avoid all means and ways of honor and reputation — for even that avoidance can be whispered in the heart as honorable. The same may be said of men in preaching the gospel, in the work of the ministry: their ability, their plainness, their frequency, their success — all in this sense may be fuel for temptation. Let a man know, then, that when he likes what feeds his lust and keeps it up by ways either good in themselves or not downright sinful, he has entered into temptation.

Fourth: when by a man's state or condition of life, or any means whatever, it comes to pass that his lust meets with occasions and opportunities for its provocation and stirring up — let that man know, whether he perceives it or not, that he has certainly entered into temptation. For to enter into temptation is not merely to be tempted, but to be so under the power of it as to be entangled by it. And it is nearly impossible for a man to have opportunities, occasions, and advantages suited to his lust and corruption without being entangled. If the ambassadors come from the king of Babylon, Hezekiah's pride will cast him into temptation; if Hazael becomes king of Syria, his cruelty and ambition will make him rage savagely against Israel; if the priests come with their pieces of silver, Judas's covetousness will instantly set him to work to sell his Master. Some men think to play on the hole of the asp and not be stung, to touch pitch and not be defiled, to take fire in their clothes and not be burned — but they will be mistaken. If your business, course of life, or societies cast you on things, ways, or persons that suit your lust or corruption, know that you have entered into temptation; fire and combustible material may more easily lie together without affecting each other than peculiar lusts and suitable occasions for their exercise.

Fifth: when a man is weakened, made negligent, or formal in duty — when he can omit duties, or content himself with a careless and lifeless performance of them without delight, joy, or satisfaction to his soul, who had another frame before — let him know that though he may not be acquainted with the particular distemper, in something or other he has entered into temptation, which he will find at length to his trouble and peril. How many have we seen and known in our days who from a warm profession have fallen to being negligent, careless, and indifferent in praying, reading, and hearing? Give an instance of one who came off without a wound, and I dare say you may find a hundred for that one who manifested they were asleep on the top of the mast — that they were in the jaws of some vile temptation that afterward brought forth bitter fruit. This is a certain rule: if his heart grows cold, negligent, or formal in duties of the worship of God — whether as to the matter or the manner — who formerly had another frame, some temptation or other has laid hold on him. World, pride, uncleanness, self-seeking, malice and envy — one thing or other has possessed his spirit; gray hairs are here and there upon him, though he perceives it not. And this is to be observed as to the manner of duties as well as the matter: men may on many sinister accounts keep up and frequent duties of religion as to their substance while having no heart for them, no life in them as to the spirituality required. Sardis kept up the performance of duties and had therefore a name to live, but it wanted spiritual life in their performance and was therefore dead (Revelation 3:1). As in bodily disease: if a man finds his spirits faint, his heart oppressed, his head heavy, though he does not yet burn with fever, he will say, 'I fear I am entering into a fever; I am so out of order.' A man may do the same with this sickness of the soul: if he finds his pulse not beating aright in duties of worship, if his spirit be low and his heart faint in them, let him conclude — though his lust does not yet burn nor rage — that he has entered into temptation, and it is high time to consider the particular causes of his distemper. If the head be heavy and slumbering in the things of grace, if the heart be cold in duties, evil lies at the door. And if such a soul escapes a great temptation to open sin, it shall not escape a great temptation by desertion. The spouse cried 'I sleep' (Canticles 5:2) and that she had put off her coat and could not put it on — an indisposition to duties and communion with Christ. What is the next news of her in verse 6? Her beloved had withdrawn himself; Christ was gone, and she sought him long and found him not. There is such a suitableness between the new nature wrought in believers and the duties of the worship of God that they will not be parted or kept asunder unless by the interposition of some disturbing distemper. The new creature feeds upon them, is strengthened and increased by them, finds sweetness in them, meets in them with its God and Father — and cannot but of itself, unless made sick by some temptation, delight in them and desire to be in the exercise of them. It is not cast out of this frame and temper unless it is oppressed and disordered by one secret temptation or another. Sundry other evidences there are of a soul's entering into temptation, which upon inquiry it may discover.

I propose this to take off the security that we are apt to fall into, and to show what is the peculiar duty we are to apply ourselves to in the special seasons of temptation. For he that is already entered into temptation is to apply himself to means for disentanglement, not to labor to prevent his entering in. How this may be done I shall afterward declare.

With these general matters established, I move on to three specific questions arising from the truth we have proposed. The first concerns the thing itself; the second concerns the time or season of it; and the third concerns our conduct in preventing the evil being discussed.

First, then, we may ask:

First: how can a person know when he has entered into temptation?

Second: what are the seasons in which a person may and ought to fear that an hour of temptation is near?

Third: what directions can be given for keeping ourselves from entering into temptation?

How can a person know whether he has entered into temptation? I say:

First: when a person is drawn into any sin, he can be sure he has entered into temptation. All sin comes from temptation (James 1:14) — sin is a fruit that grows only from that root. However suddenly or violently a man may be caught by or in a sin, it has come from some temptation or other. People often fail to notice this, to their own great harm. When they are overcome by a sin, they set themselves to repent of that sin but do not think about the temptation that caused it — they do not address that as well, or take care that they do not enter into it again. So they are quickly entangled again. The person who genuinely wants to overcome any sin must examine the temptations that lead to it and strike at that root. Without dealing with the root, there will be no healing.

This is a failure that possesses many who otherwise have a keen and living sense of sin: they are aware of their sins, but not of their temptations — troubled by the bitter fruit while tending the poisonous root. So even in the midst of grieving over sin, they continue in the same ways, relationships, and pursuits that were the occasion of it.

Second: temptations have different degrees of intensity. Some rise to such a level and press on the soul so hard — tormenting and disturbing it, fighting against every attempt at resistance — that the person under such an attack can have no doubt that he is wrestling with a peculiar power of temptation. When a fever rages, a man knows he is sick. As James tells us, the lusts of men entice, draw away, and seduce them toward sin — but they do this on their own, without any special driving force, in a quieter and more settled way. If they grow violent, if they throw the soul about and give it no rest, the soul may know that they have been given added power by some temptation working on them.

Take an empty vessel and put it in a stream flowing to the sea: it will inevitably be carried there according to the pace and direction of the current. But let strong winds rise, and it will be driven violently against every bank and rock until it is broken to pieces and swallowed up in the ocean. Men's lusts will inevitably — if not mortified through the death of Christ — carry them to eternal ruin. But they often do so quietly, following the natural current of their corruptions. Let strong temptations arise like a wind, and men are driven into countless open sins — broken on every side and swallowed up in eternity.

Hezekiah always had the root of pride in him, yet it did not drive him to show off his treasure and wealth until he fell into temptation through the arrival of the ambassadors from the king of Babylon. David also had the same root — yet he could refrain from numbering the people until Satan stood up and provoked and pressed him to do it. Judas was covetous from the beginning, yet he did not scheme to satisfy that greed by selling his Master until the devil entered into him, and through that he entered into temptation. The same could be said of Abraham, Jonah, Peter, and the rest. So whenever any lust or corruption riots and disturbs the soul, violently driving it toward sin, the soul may know — even if it cannot yet identify exactly where — that temptation has gained some advantage over it, and it needs more than ordinary attention.

Third: entering into temptation may be detected even in its earliest stages — for instance, when the heart begins secretly to like the substance of the temptation and is content to feed and grow it by whatever means it can, short of outright sin.

For example: when a man begins to gain a reputation for piety, wisdom, or learning, and his heart is quietly pleased to hear of it, with his pride and ambition drawn in — if this man now with all his energy pursues the very things that have built his reputation, with a hidden aim of increasing it further, he is entering into temptation. If he does not take heed, this will soon make him a slave to his lust. So it was with Jehu, who noticed that his reputation for zeal was spreading. When Jonadab crossed his path, he thought: here is an opportunity to build my reputation for zeal further, and he set to work most energetically. The things he did were good in themselves, but he had entered into temptation and was serving his lust in all of it. So it is with many scholars: they find themselves admired for their learning. This feeds the pride and ambition in their hearts. So they set themselves to study with great diligence — a good thing in itself — but doing it to earn the praise and admiration of others in which they delight, they make provision for the flesh to fulfill its desires.

It is true that God often brings light out of this darkness and turns things to a better outcome. After a man has perhaps studied for many years with an eye on his own lusts — his ambition, pride, and desire for praise — God may come in with His grace, turn the soul to Himself, and so rob those sinful lusts and consecrate to the service of His purposes what had been prepared for self-serving ends.

Men may become entangled in this way by things better than learning — even in the practice of godliness, in the work of the ministry, and in similar pursuits.

Some men's very profession of faith becomes a snare to them: they are respected and honored because of their standing and their strict walk. This often happens in times when everything is driven by factions and parties — some people find themselves to be the pride of their particular group. If thoughts of this quietly work their way into their hearts and motivate them toward more than ordinary effort and activity in their religion, they are entangled. Instead of aiming at more honor, they need to lie low in a sense of their own unworthiness. This temptation is especially difficult to escape, because even the avoidance of honor and reputation can be quietly whispered in the heart as itself something to be proud of. The same may be said of men who preach the Gospel, engaged in the work of ministry: their ability, their plainness, their faithfulness, their fruitfulness — all of these can in this sense become fuel for temptation. Let a man know, then, that when he finds pleasure in what feeds his lust and sustains it by means that are either good in themselves or not outright sinful, he has entered into temptation.

Fourth: when by a person's condition or circumstances, or by any means whatever, his lust meets with occasions and opportunities that stir it up and provoke it — let that person know, whether he sees it or not, that he has certainly entered into temptation. To enter into temptation is not merely to be tempted, but to be so under its power that you are entangled by it. It is nearly impossible for a person to have opportunities, occasions, and advantages suited to his lust without being entangled. If ambassadors come from the king of Babylon, Hezekiah's pride will cast him into temptation. If Hazael becomes king of Syria, his cruelty and ambition will make him savage against Israel. If the priests arrive with their pieces of silver, Judas's greed will immediately set him to work to sell his Master. Some men think they can play at the hole of a serpent and not be bitten, touch tar and not be stained, carry fire in their clothes and not be burned — but they are mistaken. If your work, your way of life, or your relationships constantly expose you to things, patterns, or people that suit your lust or corruption, know that you have entered into temptation. Fire and combustible material are more likely to lie together without affecting each other than particular lusts are to lie quietly beside suitable occasions for their exercise.

Fifth: when a person grows weak, negligent, or merely going through the motions in duty — when he omits duties or settles for a cold and lifeless performance of them without delight, joy, or satisfaction, when he once had a very different frame — let him know that though he may not be aware of any specific problem, somewhere he has entered into temptation. He will find this out eventually, to his trouble and harm. How many have we seen and known in our day who, starting from a warm profession, have grown negligent, careless, and indifferent in praying, reading, and hearing? Find me one who came through without a wound, and I dare say you can find a hundred for that one who showed they were asleep on top of the mast — caught in the grip of some corrupt temptation that afterward bore bitter fruit. This is a reliable sign: if the heart of someone who once had a warm frame grows cold, negligent, or merely formal in the duties of worshiping God — whether in their substance or their spirit — some temptation has laid hold on him. Love of the world, pride, sexual sin, self-seeking, malice or envy — one thing or another has taken hold of his spirit. Gray hairs are here and there upon him, though he does not see them. This applies to the manner of duties as well as the substance: men may, for various wrong reasons, keep up religious practices in their outward form while having no heart for them, no spiritual life in their performance. Sardis maintained its duties and therefore had a reputation for being alive — but it lacked the spiritual life that should have animated them, and was therefore declared dead (Revelation 3:1). As with physical sickness: if a man finds his energy failing, his chest oppressed, his head heavy — though he does not yet have a fever — he says, "I fear I am coming down with a fever; something is wrong with me." A person may say the same when the soul is sick: if he finds his pulse not beating right in the duties of worship, if his spirit is low and his heart faint in them, let him conclude — even though his lust does not yet rage openly — that he has entered into temptation, and that it is high time to identify the particular cause of the problem. If the head is dull and sluggish toward things of grace, if the heart is cold in duties, evil is at the door. And if such a soul escapes a great temptation toward open sin, it will not escape a great temptation by way of God's withdrawal. The bride said "I sleep" (Song of Solomon 5:2) and that she had taken off her robe and could not put it on — a picture of reluctance toward duties and communion with Christ. What is the next news we hear of her in verse 6? Her beloved had withdrawn; Christ was gone, and she searched long and could not find Him. There is such a natural fit between the new nature given to believers and the duties of worshiping God that they will not be separated unless some disturbing disorder comes between them. The new creation feeds on these duties, is strengthened and built up by them, finds sweetness in them, meets God and Father through them — and will naturally, on its own, unless made ill by some temptation, delight in them and want to be exercising them. It is not driven out of this frame and condition except by being weighed down and disordered by one secret temptation or another. There are also other signs of a soul's having entered into temptation, which on careful examination may be discovered.

I offer this to shake us out of the carelessness we are prone to fall into, and to show what our specific duty is in the special seasons of temptation. For the person who has already entered into temptation must apply himself to means of disentanglement — not to preventing his entering in. How that may be done I will explain later.