"Magnas it Fama per urbes,

Fama malum, qua non aliud velocius ullum."

AENEID, Book I. 175, 176.RECENT advices received in this city from Boston represent the "Hub" as convulsed by a frightful earthquake of anarchy and disorder. It appears that on Friday, the 13th inst., the whole Sophomore Class of Harvard University, five thousand in number, marched, armed to the teeth, to the State House in Boston, and peremptorily ordered the Mayor to provide them with a dinner which should consist of not less than sixty-three, and not more than one hundred and seventy-five courses.

His Honor had the courage to refuse this unreasonable demand, whereupon he was immediately taken prisoner, bound, and gagged, while his captors, marching to the principal hotel in the city, kept by one Barker or Parker, took possession of its kitchen and helped themselves to whatever eatables they could lay their hands on.

Three plump and tender Freshmen, who chanced to be loitering in the hotel, were seized, roasted, served with celery and tomato-catsup, and eaten with great relish by the brutal Sophomores.

At the conclusion of this horrid repast, the bloodthirsty cannibals, inflamed by the taste of blood and strong liquor, performed deeds of violence and cruelty compared to which the atrocities of the French Revolution appear kindly and benevolent.

In the first place, Barker's hotel was set on fire and burnt to ashes, the Sophomoric ruffians howling with demoniacal glee as each massive wall of the noble structure tottered, crumbled, and fell before the insatiate rage and devouring ferocity of the exultant fire-fiend.

The unfortunate Mayor became the next object of attention to his ferocious captors; hoisting him by means of a derrick to the top of a lofty telegraph-pole, they compelled him to dance the "Boston Dip" and "New York Glide" along the wires, while singing "Gentle Spring," and whistling "The Flying Trapeze"; in addition to this he was compelled to play the Marseillaise Hymn, on a trombone, and execute Die Wacht am Rhein on a violin, at the same time.

Our ink turns livid upon the roller at the mere thought of such fiendish cruelty, and several thousand copies of to-day's issue have been illegible in consequence.

The next act was the blowing up of the State House, after which the dastardly Sophomores, forming in line, marched out towards Cambridge, "tearing down fences, demolishing signs, and defacing dwelling-houses"* and slaughtering such a number of persons between Bowdoin Square and Charles River that a great tidal-wave of blood arose and swept away six thousand dwelling-houses from the West End of Boston, drowning, it is estimated, at least ten thousand souls.

The Cambridge police force, being ordered out, gave battle to the student-fiends; one thousand valiant defenders of the peace now rest in their eternal sleep at Mount Auburn.

A detachment of five hundred from the main band of destroyers made a raid upon the Boston and Albany Railroad, tearing up its track the entire distance between Boston and Springfield, each Sophomore putting one thousand rails in his vest-pocket; freight-trains were trampled under foot, station-houses were ground to powder, and the Owl train from New York, while running at the rate of seventy-five miles an hour, was seized by a gigantic student and hurled a distance of three miles, landing upside down in Miller's River, and terrible was the death which its passengers suffered.

After wreaking vengeance on the helpless railroad, the detachment rejoined the main body, which had now reached Cambridge, and a general work of devastation was inaugurated; telegraph-poles were torn down and eaten by the more voracious of the monsters; paving-stones were torn up and thrown into Charles River until the Back Bay Problem was completely solved, no water being now visible for miles around; lamp-posts were thrust into the chimneys of dwelling-houses, and a pyramid of horse-cars five hundred feet in height was constructed, which, with all such drivers, conductors, and passengers as were so unfortunate as to be captured by the incarnate demons, was blown to atoms by nitro-glycerine.

The President of Harvard, though absent in Europe, was immediately recalled by vote of the Faculty, and, arriving at Cambridge in an incredibly short time, ordered out the Freshmen to contend with the diabolical Sophomores.