de
into sin by his love of heathen foreigners, or outlandish women, as
Nehemiah calls them, women living outside his own land. If he fell, if
he the wisest of men, if he the beloved of his God, was led astray, was
it likely that they could walk into the very same trap, and escape being
caught and ensnared by it?

'Did not Solomon King of Israel sin by these things? Yet among many
nations was there no king like him, who was beloved of his God, and God
made him king over all Israel: nevertheless _even him_ did outlandish
women cause to sin. Shall we then hearken unto you to do all this great
evil, to transgress against our God in marrying strange wives?'

Did Nehemiah then break up the marriages which had already taken place,
and send the wives away? We are not told that he did. Probably he only
insisted, and insisted very strongly, that no more such marriages should
take place. For he knew that if the custom was continued it would lead
to ruin, shame, and disgrace, and he was therefore perfectly right to
take strong measures to put a stop to it.

One man he saw fit to make an example of in a still more decided
way--one offending member he felt must be cut off. This was Manasseh,
the grandson of the high priest, the very one who had been the cause of
Tobiah's entrance into the temple, and of the friendly feeling that
existed between Eliashib and the Samaritans.

Here was Manasseh, a priest, living in the temple itself, dressed in the
white robe, and taking part in the service of God, yet all the time
having a heathen wife, and allowing heathen ways in his household.
Manasseh's wife was actually Sanballat's daughter; and so long as he and
she remained in the temple precincts, Nehemiah felt they would never be
free from Sanballat's influence.

Accordingly we read:

'I chased him from me.'

Nehemiah banished him from the temple and from Jerusalem, and Manasseh
went away with his wife to her father's grand home in Samaria.

No doubt Nehemiah was far from popular in Jerusalem that night. There
were many who thought he had been too severe, too narrow, too
particular. And doubtless there were many who, if they had dared, would
have rebelled against his decision. But Nehemiah had done everything; he
had taken all these strong measures, not to please men, but to please
God. If the Master praised him, he cared not what others might say of
him. 'Lord, what wilt _Thou_ have me to do?' was the constant prayer of
Nehemiah's h