(_To be concluded in our next._) * * * * * +For the New-York Weekly Magazine.+ * * * KNOWLEDGE. The life of man is lengthened by his pursuits of knowledge, as that of a fool by his passions. The time of the one is long, because he does not know how to spend it; but the other distinguishes every moment of it with useful and amusing thoughts; the one wishes it always elapsed, and the other enjoys it always. How the view of past life, appears different to the man who is grown old in knowledge, from that who is grown old in ignorance; the latter is like the owner of a barren country, that sees nothing, but some hills and plains naked; the other beholds an agreeable landscape, and can scarce cast his eyes on a single spot of his land that is not covered with some beautiful plants. * * * * * CURIOUS ETYMOLOGY. When the French first settled on the banks of St. Lawrence, they were stinted by the intendant, Monsieur Picard, to a can of spruce beer a day. The people thought this measure very scant, and every moment articulated, “Can-a-day!” It would be ungenerous in any reader to desire a more rational derivation of the word Canada. * * * * * * * * * THE FATAL EFFECTS OF INDULGING THE PASSIONS, Exemplified in the History of M. De La Paliniere. _Translated from the French._ (Concluded from page 18.) In the midst of these thoughts, there was one more afflicting than all the rest; I was arrived at that height of misery, that my greatest misfortune was not that of being for ever separated from Julia; no, I had another more insupportable. The most virtuous and innocent of women, the ornament and glory of her sex, groaned beneath the opprobrious burthen of the world’s contempt, and I alone was the cause of this cruel injustice; the remembrance of this distracted me, and made me almost insensible to the consolations of friendship. Yes, said I to Sinclair, I could suffer singly for my errors, and support my punishment perhaps with fortitude. Time I know destroys passion and regret, but it never can enfeeble the remorse of a feeling heart born to the practice of virtue. The day may come, when Julia will no longer live in my imagination with all those seductive charms I now continually behold; but she will ever remain there the innocent sacrifice of folly and distraction, and the remembrance of that will be the torment of my life. In effect, neither the tender cares of Sinclair, nor the dissipation of a long voyage, could weaken my chagrin. When we returned to Paris, Sinclair was obliged to leave me and rejoin his regiment, and I departed, almost immediately, for Holland; where, six months after, Sinclair came to me. He suggested an idea of my undertaking some kind of commerce, and lent me money necessary to make a beginning.