The sentence pronounced upon him is in accordance with the election of his own will--let earth, with all its beauty of nature, all its gifts of human art, all its successes of the intellect, as he had conceived and chosen them, be his.

To his despair, he finds that what he had prized in life, and what is now granted to him cannot bring him happiness or even content.

The plenitude of beauty, of which all partial beauty was but a pledge, is forever lost to him.

The glory of art, which lay beyond its poor actual attainments, is lost.

The joy of knowledge, with all those grasps of guess Which pull the more into the less, is lost.