THE LION'S HEAD. Valiant as a lion, and wondrous affable. -SHAKSPEARE. This article,—or rather this string of short affable roars, from the Lion's Head of the London Magazine,-will, for the future, occupy the first pages of each Number; and Correspondents, and others who may be in expectation of any particular announcement, will do well to look amongst these for what may concern them. Any one, too, who may have committed a particularly good action, or a particularly bad one, or said or written any thing very clever, or very stupid, during the month,―ought not, by any means, to neglect interrogating the Lion's Head. Surely "one Lion may speak, when so many asses do." Our proposed notice of Mr. Mulready's Picture, and others, is delayed for one number. Our criticism on Mr. Haydon's Picture of Christ's Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem has received some animadversion, to which we cannot permit ourselves to reply, because it was introduced by an accusation, as false in substance, as childish and vulgar in the manner in which it was conveyed. We allude to the motto to the first Letter in the Examiner. The objections urged in our criticism had been submitted to Mr. Haydon personally, long and often before they were stated publicly: that they would be so stated he knew, as well as by whom. He very frankly, and with the manliness of true talent, conceded the fairness of such opposition, while he dissented from our opinion: and it gives us pain that the terms in which it was expressed should not appear to him as obviously fair as its principle, or as our feeling towards him is friendly. Such explanation of these terms, as we can sincerely make, we shall, in our next number, offer; having first shown, in justice to ourselves, that we cannot be honestly accused of an attempt to wound Mr. Haydon from a secret stand, and that he is no party to any such charge.-What we have to say on this matter, might as well be stated now, only, were we to do so, we should not have room to notice the subscription which we see is set on foot to purchase Mr. Haydon's picture. It appears to start under most respectable auspices: Sir George Beaumont, and G. Phillips, Esq. M. P. are the trustees, and amongst the subscribers we already see the following names, which include some of the first suffrages in the kingdom on a question of merit in Fine Art: The Marquis of Stafford, Marquis of Lansdown, Sir C. Long, Sir G. Beaumont, Earl Mulgrave, Bishop of London, Earl of Aberdeen, Earl Ashburnham, Lord Yarmouth, G. Phillips, Esq. M. P. The price fixed on the picture is 3000 guineas, and the plan is to present it to a church, which will be selected by the votes of the subscribers, The money is to be paid into the hands of Messrs. Coutts, the bankers, in the name of the respectable trustees. It appears to us, that a most important question is now at issue:-will the public encourage that style of art which has shed glory on Greece and Italy; which is the boast of France,-and which is now better practised, and worse rewarded in this country than in any other of Europe? Mr. Haydon has devoted himself to this style with a perseverance and talent unexampled ; and his present production is pretty generally confessed to be the finest work, in that highest manner, of which the country can boast. Our opinions, as to the propriety or impropriety of those minor points of conduct, to which we alluded in our criticism on his picture, do not affect the general question of his merits as an artist: we retain the opinions we there expressed; but we are quite sure that to public encouragement he is richly entitled, and that if he fail to receive it, the disgrace will be the nation's, not his. He will, in that case, be classed hereafter with those other too numerous instances of martyrdom to a noble ambition, which in the past we cantingly deplore, while we are providing fresh subjects for similar regrets in the future. Where did our friendly Correspondent, who has dropped into our mouth some savoury morsels of Mr. Maturin's Sermons (which we are digesting into an article,) learn that we "dislike his Lordship”—Lord Byron to wit? Can he quote any passage from any paper that has appeared in this Magazine, that would intimate such a sentiment? Some of Lord Byron's works have suggested, by the force of their own example, a freedom in the manner of handling them, with which their author, we apprehend, would be the last to find fault. To call Don Juan and Beppo moral works, would be a falsehood: to call them immoral, would be little better than a folly; for who needs to be told, that they were not written to edify so much as to amuse? If, in pursuing this object, they trespass (as we think they do) on the fences of society, and are, therefore, hazardous to its security, a higher duty is to be discharged than that of merely praising clever poetry. But really we should not think of delivering a sermon on such an occasion; for who is there that requires to be convinced on the subject? Not the author's publisher certainly, for he refused his name to the title page-nor the author himself, for he seems to be as impartial in judging at home as abroad. The only way then, we think, for criticism to bear effectually on such productions, is to press on the weak side of their system-which is to be found with a very little searching. At this time of day, there remains nobody to enlighten, but almost all the world to gain.-This may, and ought to be, tried: but try it when we may, it will never be with feelings of dislike towards the distinguished individual in question, whose talents are not more certain to conquer admiration, than his manners are to excite attachment. At the same time, as every reader of his published works has a right to express his opinion of whatever may be found amongst their contents, we ought to have no hesitation to avow freely a sentiment, which, we believe, we only share with ninety-nine in a hundred of the millions who take delight in perusing Lord Byron's productions. We allude to the dislike of certain allusions, which he seems to wax fonder than ever of introducing into all he writes, —and which have become additionally offensive since they have been couched in the language of levity. Lord Byron owes more to himself on this point than he seems to imagine: the quarter from whence no retort can proceed, will have the support of public opinion under attack,-and this is as it ought to be. Much misconception may have existed-much calumny may have been uttered:-we put these suppositions with a sense of their being certainties,—and we have particular reasons for so feeling: but the provocation to all this was given by an improper publication (which came forth to the world in the worst possible manner,-namely, that of affected concealment, contradicted by its own acts,)—and a succession of similar publications can only tend to perpetuate the mingling of uncomfortable questions and unpleasant remembrances, with the enjoyment of Lord Byron's poetical glory, -the brightness of which ought to be unsullied either by offence or insult. Of course we refuse inserting the poetry transmitted by our correspondent→ but we sincerely thank him for his other favours. Oh shame to thee, Britain! shame, land of renown! is introduced by a compliment that makes us ashamed. But how comes our fair correspondent to imagine that we slight the "Immaculates," because we do not keep them in one corner of our Magazine? She might as justly accuse a husband of slighting his wife, because he did not lock her up in one room! Perhaps it is in consequence of our being piqued at her strange accusation in this respect, that we are inclined to deny admission to her verses: —yet, to say the truth, we do not wish to meddle with their subject,-being of opinion that it is one on which "much may be said on both sides," but nothing satisfactory on either. "A Queen's appeal" has been sent to us,-but what we have to observe on this unpleasant matter will be found in the political part of our Magazine. Her Majesty, we observe, is made to allude in this appeal to her journey to Jerusalem, and then very naturally to exclaim— But she who treads on Sion's holy soil, Or, from the brow of lofty Olivet, Above the scenes of her Redeemer's toil, Looks to the stones on which his feet were set, And learn, at least, to prize the meekness of the dove. The unforced nature of this allusion must do infinite service to the Queen's cause. A letter from a defender of Mr. Bowles, as editor of Pope, is inserted in the course of the following pages. Having received much pleasure from the perusal of this gentleman's poetry, we are happy to be afforded an opportunity of stating so—and of adding that, in our view of the dispute between him and Mr. Campbell, he has completely convicted the latter gentleman of ignorance, in regard to what he took as the subject matter of accusation against Mr. Bowles, and has entirely justified all |