were credentials by which the practical Cromek set some store. He had submitted the drawings to those academic dons, disinterestedly anxious to be assured 'how far he was warranted in calling the attention of connoisseurs to what he himself imagined to be a high and original effort of genius;' not, of course, with any eye to the value of such testimonials with the public. Accomplished Thomas Hope—Anastasius Hope—and virtuoso Mr. Locke, of Norbury, also 'pledged their character as connoisseurs' (according to Malkin) in their favour, 'by approving and patronizing these designs.'
Blake was looking forward 'with anxious delight' to the congenial task of engraving his 'Inventions,' and did engrave one or two. A print in his peculiar, vigorous manner, from his favourite design—Deaths Door—I have seen. But shrewd Cromek's eye had been educated in the school of graceful Bartolozzi. By him, Blake's old-fashioned, austere style was quickly perceived to be not in unison with public taste, and far less likely to draw subscribers than a lucid version of his wild grandeur by some competent hand. To the initiated, an artist's rendering of his own conception—that, say, of an Albert Dürer, a Lucas von Leyden, a Hogarth—has always the infinitely superior claim, in its first-hand vigour, freshness, and air as of an original. Such engravings are, in fact, originals.
Cromek selected for his purpose Lewis Schiavonetti, a native of Bassano, in Venetia, who, on coming to England, had put himself under Bartolozzi, Cromek's master. In that studio, probably, the two became acquainted. Schiavonetti rose above all Bartolozzi's other pupils; above the master too; developing an individual style, which united grandeur with grace, boldness, draughtsman-like power, and intelligence with executive delicacy and finish. It was a happy choice of engraver on Cromek's part, and with his views. The large outlay requisite to secure the Itaiian's service was pretty sure of ultimate return, with good interest. Cromek's sagacity
