THE life of a newspaper correspondent, as may naturally be supposed, is one of alternate cloud and sunshine--one day basking in an Andalusian balcony, playing a rubber at the club on the off-nights of the Opera, being very musical when the handsome Prima Donna sings, and very light fantastic toeish when the lively Prima Ballerina dances; another day roughing it over the Balkan, amid sleet and snow, or starving at the tail of an ill-conditioned army, and receiving bullets instead of billets-doux. ["New Monthly Magazine," vol. 95, 1852, p.284]