in vain.

While pacing restlessly up and down the spacious apartment, stopping from
time to time before his work to fix his eyes angrily upon it, he thought
of his friend's Demeter, whose head also had Daphne's features, who also
bore in her hand a bundle of wheat, and even in attitude did not differ
very widely from his own. And yet--eternal gods!--how thoroughly
dissimilar the two were!

In the figure created by Myrtilus, supernatural dignity blended with the
utmost womanly charm; in his, a pleasing head rested upon a body in whose
formation he had used various models without striving to accomplish
anything except to depart as far as possible from established custom,
with which he was at variance.

Yet had he not found himself, nevertheless, compelled to follow the old
rules? One arm was raised, the other hung down; the right foot was put
forward, the left one back.

Exactly the same as in Myrtilus's statue, and thousands of other figures
of Demeter!

If he could have used the hammer and chisel, the thing might have become
more powerful; but how many things he had had to consider in employing
the accursed gold and ivory upon which Archias obstinately insisted!

This hammering, chipping, and filing told unfavourably upon his power and
his aspiration toward grandeur.

This time the battle seemed to be lost.

It was fortunate that the conqueror was no other than Myrtilus. Often as
he had gone astray in his young life, many as were the errors he had
committed, not even the faintest shadow of an envious feeling concerning
his friend's more successful work had ever stained his soul.

True, the fact that fate, in addition to such abundant gifts of mind and
spirit, had also endowed the latter with great worldly possessions, while
he, but for the generosity of his uncle Archias, must have starved, had
often led Hermon to inveigh angrily against the injustice of the gods.
Yet he did not grudge Myrtilus the wealth without which he could not
imagine him, and which his invalid friend needed to continue successfully
the struggle against the insidious disease inherited with the gold. And
his sufferings! Hermon could not have endured keener pain had they been
his own. He must even rejoice over the poor dear fellow's victory; for if
he, Hermon, succeeded with his Arachne as he hoped, it would make
Myrtilus--he could swear to it--happier than his own triumph.

After these reflections, which again reminded him of the second