ttributed to Burne-Jones, and
unlearned much of his acquired pedantry. The mere penmanship which
disfigured some of his early work entirely disappeared. His handling
became finer, his drawing less timid. The sketch of _Moliere_, it may
be interesting to note, belongs to this period of his art.

[Illustration: Chopin. Ballade III. Op. 47
_Reproduced by permission of Charles Holme, Esqre._]

A few months afterwards, he commenced the "Morte d'Arthur." Suggested
and intended to rival the volumes of the Kelmscott Press, it is his
most popular and least satisfactory performance. Still the borders have
far more variety and invention than those of Morris; the intricate
splendours of mediaeval manuscripts are intelligently imitated or
adapted. The initial- and tail-pieces are delightful in themselves, and
among the most exquisite of his grotesques and embellishments. But the
popularity of the book was due to its lack of originality, not to its
individuality. Mediaevalism for the middle classes always ensures an
appreciative audience. Oddly enough, Morris was said to be annoyed by
the sincerest form of flattery. Perhaps he felt that every school of art
comes to an end with the birth of the founder, and that Beardsley was
only exercising himself in an alien field of which Morris himself owned
the tithe. At all events it is not unlikely that Beardsley aroused in
the great poet and decorator the same suspicion that he had undoubtedly
done in Watts.

The "Morte d'Arthur" may be said, for convenience, to close Aubrey
Beardsley's first period; but he modified his style during the progress
of the publication, and there is no unity of intention in his types or
scheme of decoration. He was gravitating Japanwards. He began, however,
his so-called Japanesques long before seeing any real Japanese art,
except what may be found in the London shop windows on cheap trays
or biscuit-boxes. He never thought seriously of borrowing from this
source until some one not conversant with Oriental art insisted on the
resemblance of his drawings to Kakemonos. It was quite accidental.
Beardsley was really studying with great care and attention the
Crivellis in the National Gallery; their superficial resemblance to
Japanese work occasioned an error from which Beardsley, quick to
assimilate ideas and modes of expression, took a suggestion,
unconsciously and ignorantly offered, and studied genuine examples.
"_Raphael Sanzio_" (first version) was produced