ONE of the first objects of attraction in London for the stranger, must necessarily be the new Houses of Parliament. They are certainly the most noticeable of all the architectural displays in England. Critics have quarrelled much with the finical character of the work, and with the profusion of ornament; but their purpose, their size, their cost, and their durability must excite always a great deal of wonder and of curiosity. The present magnificent pile was erected after designs by BARRY. There has been no limit in the matter of cost; the final and entire expense is estimated at sums varying from twenty to fifty millions of pounds. The portions of the interior finished and accessible to the public are the committeerooms (occupying the greater portion of the river front) and the two legislative chambers, which are in the centres of the northern and southern halves of the building. The general public entrance, when complete, will be through Westminster Hall, up a flight of steps at its south end, into a square vaulted vestibule, called St. Stephen's Porch; thence, turning east, up another flight, and along the "St. Stephen's Hall," a fine passage, but a very poor substitute, alas! for the Edwardian chapel it replaces, into the octagon hall, in the centre of the whole edifice. This is about 60 ft. in diameter, and the same in height, covered by a massive Gothic dome, on which is to be raised a light open stone lantern and spire nearly 300 ft. high, which are an addition to the original design. From hence three passages will branch: that straightforward leading to the centre of the long corridor of the committee-rooms, that on the north to the Commons' lobby and House, and that on the south to the Lords. These splendid approaches occupy altogether fully fifteen times the capacity of either House. The royal approach (from the great tower at the southwest corner) also fills about thrice the space taken by the House of Lords, and includes, besides robing-rooms, &c., a splendid lobby, about 45 ft. square, and a gallery 110 feet long, 45 wide, and 45 high, being the largest room in the modern palace. Its decoration is hardly yet begun. That of the House of Lords itself is nearly complete, and it has been used since April, 1847. It may be seen, during the session, on Wednesdays, between 11 and 4, by an order from the Lord Chamberlain, (which is obtainable at an office near the temporary entrance ;) or without an order, on the days of hearing appeals, when the House, being a judicial court, is of course open. It is (if not intrinsically, at least effectively) the richest chamber erected since the fall of the mediaval church architecture; a gorgeous effect being produced by gilding all the mouldings, (which include the whole of the stone and most of the woodwork,) and covering the remaining surfaces with minute colored patterns. The House is nearly an exact double cube of 45 ft.; the ceiling divided by crossing beams into 18 squares, corresponding to the arched compartments of the walls, which are all similar, except that the six on each side are occupied by windows with colored devices, and the three at each end by frescoes, a species of painting now first attempted in England. also has been left to grow into a forest of the elegant and varied inventions of the chimney-doctor; it having by this time become an admitted and established rule, that these, and many other parts of buildings (in fact, to define them in short, all necessary or useful parts) were excluded from the architect's province-not expected to appear in his drawings, and, in the actual execution, made allowance for, as necessary evils, invisible to the practised and tutored eye, which is expected to see the building not as it stands, (and always will stand while in use,) but as it would appear with the necessary blots, the objects of vulgar utility, abstracted. From Chambers' "Edinburgh Journal," THE DESERTED HOUSE. HAVING been detained by the illness of a relative at the small town of Beziers, when travelling a few years since in the south of France, and finding time hang somewhat heavily on my hands during the slow progress of my companion's convalescence, I took to wandering about the neighborhood within a circle of four or five miles, inspecting the proceedings of the agriculturists, and making acquaintance with the country people. On one of these excursions, seeing a high wall and an iron gate, I turned out of my road to take a peep at the interior through the rails; but I found them so overgrown with creepers of one sort or another, that it was not easy to distinguish any thing but a house which stood about a hundred yards from the entrance. Finding, however, that the gate was not quite closed, I gave it a push; and although it moved very stiffly on its hinges, and grated along the ground as it went, I contrived to force an aperture wide enough to put in my head. What a scene of desolation was there! The house, which was built of dark-colored bricks, looked as if it had not been inhabited for a century. The roof was much decayed, the paint black with age, the stone steps green with moss, and the windows all concealed by discolored and dilapidated Venetian blinds. The garden was a wilderness of weeds and overgrown rose-bushes; and except one broad one, in a right line with the main door of the house, the paths were no longer distinguishable. After surveying this dismal scene for some time, I came away with a strange feeling of curiosity. "Why should this place be so entirely deserted and neglected?" thought I. It was not like a fortress, a castle, or an abbey, allowed to fall into ruins from extreme age, because no longer appropriate to the habits of the period. On the contrary, the building I had seen was comparatively modern, and had fallen to decay merely for want of those timely repairs and defences of the weather that ordinary prudence prescribes. Perhaps there is some sad history attached to the spot," I thought; "or perhaps the race to whom it belonged have died out; or may be the cause of its destruction is nothing more tragical than a lawsuit !" As I returned, I inquired of a woman in the nearest village if she could tell me to whom that desolate spot belonged. "To a Spaniard," she answered; "but he is dead!" "But to whom does it belong now?" I asked. "Why is it suffered to fall into ruin?” "I don't know," she said, shaking her head, and re-entering the hovel, at the door of which she had been standing. During dinner that day I asked the host of the inn if he knew the place, and could satisfy my curiosity. He knew it well, he answered. The last inhabitant had been a Count Ruy Gonzalez, a Spaniard, whose wife had died there under some painful circumstances, of which nobody knew the particulars. He had been passionately fond of her, and immediately after her decease had gone to reside in Paris, where he had also died. As the place formed part of the lady's fortune, it had fallen into the hands of some distant relation of hers, who had let it; but the tenant, after a residence of a few months, left it, at some sacrifice of rent; and other parties who subsequently took it having all speedily vacated under one pretext or another, an evil reputation gathered round and clung to it so tenaciously, that all idea of occupation had been relinquished. It may be conceived that this information did not diminish my interest in the deserted house; and on the following day I was quite eager to see my invalid settled for her midday slumber, in order that I might repeat my visit and carry my investigations further. | rately-carved gilt frames, designated this as the lady's apartment. A third door, which was also open, showed me a bed in an alcove, with a blue velvet dais and fringed counterpane of the same material. Here I found a toilet-table, also covered with what had once been white muslin, and on it stood several china boxes and bottles. In one of the former there were some remains of a red powder, which appeared to have been rouge; and on lifting the lid of another I became sensible of the odor of musk. The looking of muslin and blue bows round the frame; and the old-fashioned mahogany chest of drawers was richly gilt and ornamented. None of these rooms was papered; all appeared to be plastered or stuccoed, and were elaborately adorned with designs and gilt mouldings, except in one place, which seemed to have formerly been a door-the door of a closet probably; but it was now built up-the plaster, however, being quite coarse and unadorned, and not at all in keeping with any thing else in the room. It was also broken, indented, and blackened in several places, as if it had been battered with some I found the gate ajar as before, and by exerting all my strength, I managed to force my way in. I had not gone three steps before a snake crossed by path, and the ground seemed actually alive with lizards; but being determined to obtain a nearer view of this mysterious house, I walked straight on towards it. A close inspection of the front, however, showing me nothing but what I had descried from a distance, I turned to the left, and passed round to the back of the building, where I found the re-glass that stood on the table had a drapery mains of what had been a small flower-garden, with a grass-plot; and beyond it, divided by a wall, a court surrounded by mouldy-looking stabling: but, what was still more interesting, I discovered an open door leading into the house. Somebody, therefore, must surely be within; so I knocked with my parasol against the panel, but nobody came; and having repeated my knocks with no better success, I ventured in, and found myself in a stone passage, terminating in a door, which, by a feeble light emitted through it, I saw was partly of glass. "Any body here?" I said aloud, as I open-heavy weapon. Somehow or other, there ed it and put in my head; but all was silent: was nothing that fixed my attention so much so I went forward, not without some appre- as this door! I examined it-I laid my hension, I confess; but it was that sort of hand upon it. Why should it have been so pleasing terror one feels when witnessing a hastily built up to the disfigurement of the good melodrama. I was now in a tolerably-wall-for the coarseness of the plaster and sized hall, supported by four stone pillars, and on each side of it were two doors. spoke again, and knocked against them, but nobody answered; then I turned the handles. The first two I tried were locked, but the third was not. When I saw it yield to my hand, I confess I felt so startled that I drew back for a moment; but curiosity conquer ed-I looked in. The dim light admitted by the Venetian blinds showed me a small apartment, scantily furnished, which might have been a salon or an anteroom. Two small tables standing against the wall, a few chairs covered with yellow damask, and a pier-glass, were all it contained; but at the opposite end there was another open door: so, half-pleased and half-frightened, I walked forward, and found myself in what had formerly been a prettily-furnished boudoir. Marble slabs, settees covered with blue velvet, chairs and curtains of the same, and three or four round or oval mirrors in elabo I the rudeness of the work denoted haste. I was standing opposite to it, and asking myself this question when I heard a heavy foot approaching; and before I had time to move, I saw the astonished face of an elderly man in clerical attire standing in the doorway. I believe he thought at first I was the ghost of the former inhabitant of this chamber, for he actually changed color and stepped back. "Pardon, mon père !" said I, smiling at his amazement: "I found the door open; and I hope you will excuse the curiosity that has led me to intrude ?" a "Une Anglaise !" said he, bowing; traveller, doubtless. You are the first person besides myself that has entered these apartments, madame, for many a long year, I assure you!" After giving him an explanation of how I came to be there-an explanation which he listened to with much kindness and pla |