If you had been in Sodom on that solemn, awful evening you would never have suspected it. There was nothing outwardly to show that terrible scenes were at hand, even at the door. No weird omens were observed that night; no strange sounds disturbed the superstitious. No fiery sword was seen hanging over the city, in token that the sword of the Almighty's wrath was at last unsheathed. No signs appeared in the sun as he sank peacefully to rest. The cattle came lowing home from the fields, and the sheep-dogs barked, and the voices of children at play were heard. And then darkness fell; and the chirping of a myriad insects rose on the stillness of the Eastern night; and the stars looked down upon the quiet scene; and the moon shone, for the last time, on the great doomed city. But within Lot's dwelling a solemn conference was being held, and Lot's heart was heavy and disturbed. Full of sadness was he for the heedless, unrepenting people; full of anxiety for those dear to him in that place. And then he hurried out in the darkness to warn his relatives, and to urge on them immediate flight; and they — how true to life it all is! — laughed at him! They treated the matter as a fine joke, and the more earnest his entreaties, the more boisterous grew their mirth. And so the night wore on, and then the day began to break, and the angels hurried, nay, forced Lot out of the city. But with the morning light the scoffer waxed bolder still. "What of thy coward fears of the night, O righteous Lot?" he mockingly begins, but the words die away on his lips. Ah! what means this strange, unearthly gloom — this lurid, awful flame, in which earth and heaven seem joined in one? What this terrible sense of suffocation — this scorching, choking downpour? The lightning plays, and the thunder rolls — shock upon shock is felt — shriek rises upon shriek — confusion, horror, uproar! Woe! woe! woe! ... A few hours later, and a silence still more awful .... And the sun, as he rides high in the heavens, looks down upon a smoking mass of desolation — "And the smoke of the city went up as the smoke of a furnace!"
(J. B. C. Murphy, B. A.)

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