"The entertainment given by the Manager of the Opera House, on Monday night, was the best attended of any we have seen for many years, and fully answered the expectations that had been formed of it. The space allotted, however, large as it was, with the addition of the new room, and another above stairs, was by no means sufficient for so large a company: and the pressure of the crowd rendered the rooms insufferably hot, as well as prevented the masks from appearing to advantage. For so large an assembly, there were fewer masks than usual, but the hilarity of the company made amends for this deficiency. The Prince of Wales was in a black domino, arm-in-arm with Captain Churchill, and Lord George Conway; the Duke of Clarence was the whole evening with Mrs. _Jordan_ in a private box upstairs. _Michael Angelo Taylor_ was dressed in women's cloaths, but was less talkative than usual. The supper was extremely well conducted, and the provisions better than usual. The refreshments were also liberally supplied. There were about 2700 persons in the rooms, and among them some of the prettiest women in town."--(_Times, March 5, 1794._) * * * * * "MASQUERADE AT THE OPERA HOUSE. "On Thursday night, for the first time this season, there was a grand masquerade at this House, which was very numerously attended, as every room was crowded, and the numbers computed at about 1600. A party of _Bon-vivans_, unmasked, came into the rooms about two o'clock, who had evidently made too free use of the juice of the grape. The primitive dress of one of them, who appeared to be a Quaker, did not quite accord with his manners, which were more prone to the flesh than the spirit. Although the new regulations in price is in favour of Masquerades, yet the freedom of conversation which is allowed in these motley meetings, became, on this occasion, indecent ribaldry, and licentiousness. The _lowness_ of the price of admission was in a great measure the cause of introducing many _low_ visitors, who made themselves obnoxious to delicacy, and good manners, by the coarsest language."--(_Times, Feb. 17, 1798._) [Illustration: Madame Cornelys.] There is a paragraph in the _Times_ of August 23, 1797, whereby "hangs a tale"-- "The miserable death of Mrs. Cornelys, in the Fleet Prison, adds another melancholy instance to the catalogue of vicissitudes in what is generally termed _fashionable life_. She was formerly the law-giver of the circles of dissipation, and gaiety, yet closed her existence in the hospital room of the prison, in which she had obtained permission to reside, by the kindness of the Warden."