READER, in thy passage from the Bank-where thou hast been receiving thy half-yearly dividends (supposing thou art a lean annuitant like myself)-to the Flower Pot, to secure a place for Dalston, or Shacklewell, or some other thy suburban retreat northerly,-didst thou never observe a melancholy-looking, handsome, brick and stone edifice, to the left-where Threadneedle-street abuts upon Bishopsgate?