On the death of Joshua (about 1350 B.C.), who had succeeded Moses and led the Israelites into Canaan, “nearly the whole of the sea-coast, all the strongholds in the rich plain of Esdraelon, and, in the heart of the country, the invincible fortress of Jebus [later site of Jerusalem], were still in the hands of the unbelievers.”  The conquest therefore was yet imperfect, like that of the Christianized Saxons in the time of Alfred over the pagan Danes in England.  The times were full of peril and fear.  They developed the military energies of the Israelites, but bred license, robbery, and crime,—­a wild spirit of personal independence unfavorable to law and order.  In those days “every man did that which was right in his own eyes.”  It was a period of utter disorder, anarchy, and lawlessness, like the condition of Germany and Italy in the Middle Ages.  The persons who bore rule permanently were the princes or heads of the several tribes, the judges, and the high-priest; and in that primitive state of society these dignitaries rode on asses, and lived in tents.  The virtues of the people were rough, and their habits warlike.  Their great men were fighters.  Samson was a sort of Hercules, and Jephthah an Idomeneus,—­a lawless freebooter.  The house of Micah was like a feudal castle; the Benjamite war was like the strife of Highland clans.  Jael was a Hebrew Boadicea; Gideon, at the head of his three hundred men, might have been a hero of mediaeval romance.

The saddest thing among these social and political evils was a great decline of religious life.  The priesthood was disgraced by the prevailing vices of the times.  The Mosaic rites may have been technically observed, but the officiating priests were sensual and worldly, while gross darkness covered the land.  The high-priests exercised but a feeble influence; and even Eli could not, or did not, restrain the glaring immoralities of his own sons.  In those evil days there were no revelations from Jehovah, and there was no divine vision among the prophets.  Never did a nation have greater need of a deliverer.

It was then that Samuel arose, and he first appears as a pious boy, consecrated to priestly duties by a remarkable mother.  His childhood was passed in the sacred tent of Shiloh, as an attendant, or servant, of the aged high-priest, or what would be called by the Catholic Church an acolyte.  He belonged to the great tribe of Ephraim, being the son of Elkanah, of whom nothing is worthy of notice except that he was a polygamist.  His mother Hannah (or Anna), however, was a Hebrew Saint Theresa, almost a Nazarite in her asceticism and a prophetess in her gifts; her song of thanksgiving on the birth of Samuel, for a special answer to her prayer, is one of the most beautiful remains of Hebrew poetry.  From his infancy Samuel was especially dedicated to the service of God.  He was not a priest, since he did not belong to the priestly caste; but the Lord was with him, and raised him up to be more than priest,—­even a prophet and a judge.  When a mere child, it was he who declared to Eli the ruin of his house, since he had not restrained the wickedness and cruelty of his sons.  From that time the prophetic character of Samuel was established, and his influence constantly increased until he became the foremost man of his nation, second to no one in power and dignity since the time of Moses.