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The last day of the winter.

The winter of 1860-'61 expires to-day. It will be regarded, by the future historian, as the most memorable, perhaps, that has ever occurred since the discovery of America. It brought events in its train, the consequences of which no man living can foresee, but which will be felt by the remotest posterity. The effect upon the world at large has been much greater than that produced by the American revolution, or any other series of events, except the great Revolution in France, at the end of the last century. The reason is obvious. At the time of our revolution, the nations of Christendom did not constitute, as they do now, one great community, with interests so intricately and inseparably interwoven that an accident to a part is felt by the whole.--The civilized world may be regarded, in some respects, as a huge bell — we are indebted for the comparison to Dr. Franklin, who applied it to the thirteen United Colonies — touch one and you touch all. No accident affecting finance can occur anywhere on the globe without its being felt everywhere else. It is as important to the capitalist of New York that everything should be right "upon 'Change" in London, as it is to the London merchant. In like manner, it is as important to the financial world in London that all should be right in New York as it is that all should be right in London itself. When a panic seizes upon the stock market in New York, the English and French merchants and brokers send over gold to have the specie on hand. So it is when there is a pressure in London or Paris. They send over the ready to keep off a crash. It matters little where the crash begins. It is sure to go all around the world with the regularity of Mr. Webster's reveille following the rising sun in his career around the earth. So strangely has commerce girdled the earth, and so inseparably connected are all its manifestations.

The weather, during the expiring winter, has been as singular as the condition of the political atmosphere. It has been uncommonly mild, and during the greater portion of the time singularly beautiful. As we write, the sun is shining gloriously, and not a cloud is to be seen, the atmosphere is translucent, and everything indicates a continued spell very much resembling Indian summer, if it be not, indeed, that most delightful of all seasons. This, however, is written on the 27th. Before it goes to press, there may be a change for the worse.

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