We confess to a difficulty in finding among the members of the present Parliament a sufficient number of stone-squarers.  When we know that there are so few among them who can look upon more than one side of a question, we own that the completion of the building may be considerably delayed by employing only members of Parliament as square workmen:  the truth is, having never been accustomed to the operation, they will need considerable instruction in the art.  Those, however, rendered incapable, by habit and nature, of the task, may cast rubbish and carry a hod.

We put it to the patriotism of members of Parliament, whether they ought not immediately to throw themselves into the arms of Peto and Grissell, with an enthusiastic demand for tools.  If they be not wholly insensible of the wants of the nation and of their own dignity, Monday morning’s sun will shine upon every man of her Majesty’s majority, for once laudably employed in the nation’s good.  How delightful then to saunter near the works—­how charming then to listen to members of Parliament!  What a picture of senatorial industry!  For an Irish speech by STANLEY, have we not the more dulcet music of his stone-cutting saw?  Instead of an oration from GOULBURN, have we not the shrill note of his ungreased parliamentary barrow?  For the “hear, hear” of PLUMPTRE, the more accordant tapping of the hammer—­for the “cheer” from INGLIS, the sweeter chink of the mason’s chisel?

And then the moral and physical good acquired by the workmen themselves!  After six days’ toil, there is scarcely one of them who will not feel himself wonderfully enlightened on the wants and feelings of labouring man.  They will learn sympathy in the most efficient manner—­by the sweat of their brow.  Pleasant, indeed, ’twill be to see CASTLEREAGH lean on his axe, and beg, with Sly, for “a pot of the smallest ale.”

Having, we trust, remedied the evils of the mason’s strike—­having shewn that the fitness of things calls upon the Commons, in the present dilemma, to build their own house—­we should feel it unjust to the government not to acknowledge the good taste which, as we learn, has directed that an estimate be taken of the disposable space on the walls of the new buildings, to be devoted to the exalted work of the historical painter.  Records of the greatness of England are to endure in undying hues on the walls of Parliament.

This is a praiseworthy object, but to render it important and instructive, the greatest judgment must be exercised in the selection of subjects; which, for ourselves, we would have to illustrate the wisdom and benevolence of Parliament.  How beautifully would several of the Duke of WELLINGTON’S speeches paint!  For instance, his portrait of a famishing Englishman, the drunkard and the idler, no other man (according to his grace) famishing in England!  And then the Duke’s view of the shops of butchers, and poulterers, and bakers—­all in the Dutch style—­by which his grace has lately proved, that if there be distress, it can certainly not be for want of comestibles!  But the theme is too suggestive to be carried out in a single paper.