cannot, indeed, be denied. It resulted in the wedding of remarkable powers of engraving to high design, worthy of them. In his brief course, Schiavonetti was generally most unfortunate in having subjects to engrave not deserving of his skill. A previous engraving from Michael Angelo's noble Cartoon of Pisa, the plates to The Grave, and a subsequent etching from Stothard's Canterbury Pilgrims, are the only examples of a fitly-directed exercise of his powers. By them alone can they now be estimated. On another ground, Cromek's decision can hardly be blamed. Schiavonetti introduced Blake's designs to a wider public than himself could ever have done.
On the other hand, the purchaser of the designs having made a certain engagement, it was not open to him, in honour or common honesty, because it was an unwritten one, to depart from it for his own advantage, without Blake's consent, or without making compensation to the artist for his pecuniary loss. In point of fact, Cromek jockeyed Blake out of his copyright. And Blake was naturally mortified and incensed at the loss of profitable and happy employment to which the new arrangement sentenced him, and at becoming a mere conduit for the enrichment of two fellow-engravers.
Allan Cunningham, who also had had relations with Cromek, and had kindly reasons for judging him leniently, tells us the speculator, in paying Blake twenty guineas for the twelve designs, gave a price which, 'though small, was more than what he usually received for such productions.' This is what Cromek, or his widow, told Cunningham; but the statement is incorrect. True, Blake's gains were always small. A guinea to a guinea and . a half each was his price for the water-colour drawings sold to Mr. Butts and others. But then he did not lose his copyright; he was always at liberty to make duplicates and to engrave them. Clearly, he did make more by those; more, also, by the Songs of Innocence and of Experience, and the other series of designs which he
