The Dutch theatre is large and handsome, and has a noble front. On the night I was there, Madam Wattier performed: she occupies the same place in the public estimation in Holland as the immortal Siddons does in that of England: she is advanced in years, but still continues to display great tragic qualities: at the same time her manner is rather too vehement for an English auditor. The principal dancer in the ballet was Mademoiselle Polly, who dances with great agility. The scenery is good. During the interval between the acts, the people quit the house, to take refreshments and walk in the open air: upon these occasions the national spirit is again displayed: as there is no half-price, little boys hover round the doors, and bid upon each other for the purchase of the re-admission tickets of those who come out, for the purpose of re-selling them at a profit. The French theatre is small but neat, and tolerably well supplied with performers. After the play it is usual to go out to the Rondell, where the higher classes of the women of the town assemble to waltz. This assembly-room, like the spill-house of Rotterdam, is frequented by tradesmen, their wives and their children. After hearing so much of this place, I was greatly disappointed on viewing it. The assembly-room is small and shabby, the music wretched, and adjoining is a small square court, with three or four trees in it, scantily decorated with about a dozen lamps. Such is the celebrated Rondell of Amsterdam, which the Dutch who have never visited England contend is superior to our Vauxhall.