-rtsiry 
 
 BERNARD O'DOWD 
 
 Jff 
 
 MELBOURNE 
 THOMAS C. LOTHIAN
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 CALIFORNIA 
 
 SAN DIEGO 
 

 
 u
 
 DAWNWARD ?
 
 Of the verses herein contained, those grouped 
 under the title " Dawnward ? " were printed origin- 
 ally in The Bulletin : with the exception of " Pros- 
 perity," which appeared in The Tocsin ; " Hate," 
 in The Champion ; and " A Poet of the Moment " 
 and " Keynote," now first published. Excepting 
 " The Seed Time," part of which was printed in The 
 Tocsin, the remaining pieces were printed in The 
 Bulletin. 
 
 The Author gratefully acknowledges the permission 
 given to republish this volume by the Bulletin Co., 
 Sydney, Australia, July, 1909.
 
 DAWNWARD ? 
 
 BERNARD O'DOWD 
 
 MELBOURNE 
 
 THOMAS C. LOTHIAN 
 
 226, LITTLE COLLINS STREET
 
 "WITHOUT EDIFICES OR RULES OR ANY ARGUMENT 
 THE INSTITUTION OF THE DEAR LOVE OF COMRADES. 
 
 FUST EDITION (BULLETIN COMPANY), 1903. 
 SXCOND EDITION, JULY, 1909. 
 
 Prtated by BITLVK A TAMNSB, From* and lomtm,
 
 S>emocrac
 
 PAGE 
 
 9 
 
 II 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 AUSTRALIA .. 
 DAWNWARD ? .... 
 
 The Camp-Fires of the Lost . 
 
 . 18 
 Prosperity . 
 
 Hate 
 
 22 
 
 Cupid . 
 
 24 
 
 Proletaria . 
 
 A Poet of the Moment . 
 
 The City 
 
 The Press 
 
 Young Democracy . 
 
 A Keynote . 
 
 SONG OF THE OLD SUN-DIAL 
 
 5 
 COMPROMISE 
 
 GOD IN HISTORY . 
 
 THE SEED TIME .... . 54
 
 AUSTRALIA 
 
 T AST s fa-thing dredged by sailor Time front Space, 
 
 Are you a drift Sargasso, where the West 
 In halcyon calm rebuilds her fatal nest? 
 Or Delos of a coming Sun-God's race? 
 Are you for Light, and trimmed, with oil in place, 
 Or but a Will o' Wisp on marshy quest? 
 A new demesne for Mammon to infest? 
 Or lurks millennial Eden 'neath your face ? 
 
 The cenotaphs of species dead elsewhere 
 That in your limits leap and swim and fly, 
 Or trail uncanny harp-strings from your trees, 
 Mix omens with the auguries that dare 
 To plant the Cross upon your forehead sky, 
 A virgin helpmate Ocean at your knees.
 
 DAWNWARD ? 
 
 THAT reddish veil which o'er the face 
 Of night-hag East is drawn . . 
 Flames new disaster for the race ? 
 Or can it be the Dawn ? 
 
 Those mutterings horizonward . . 
 
 What destinies are there ? 
 Do organed Hopes triumphant chord, 
 
 Or thunders roar " Despair " ? 
 
 What gifts are those the clouds release 
 
 As far ahead they scud ? 
 Are they the genial rains of Peace, 
 
 Or deluges of blood ? 
 
 Our motley masses struggle slow 
 'Mid wilderness, through sands ; 
 
 Our flags with fetish watchwords glow 
 Above the gloomy bands. 
 
 Three watchwords ! Will they glorify, 
 Or weave us fates more stark ? 
 
 Lead dawnward from this lowering sky, 
 Or downward to the dark ?
 
 12 DAWNWARD ? 
 
 Will " Freedom ! " over Athens' scrolls 
 
 Our greater glory carve ? 
 Or prove mere choice to sell our souls 
 
 To Mammon or to starve ? 
 
 Content with Freedom's forms, shall we 
 
 Real tyranny caress, 
 Through sybaritic apathy 
 
 Or mad forgetfulness ? 
 
 " Equality ! " Will each a king 
 
 Become, a seer, a sage ? 
 Or will it ruthless all men fling 
 
 In cosmic helotage ? 
 
 Will crucibles, wherein, tho' great 
 With primal vice, we pour 
 
 Equalities, precipitate 
 Napoleons as before ? 
 
 " Fraternity ! " Will black and white 
 
 As brothers mingle, or, 
 Surcharged with lust of carnage, plight 
 
 The bloody troths of war ? 
 
 While prudent churches neutral watch 
 
 The conflict of the twain, 
 Will Wealth his brother Want despatch, 
 
 An everlasting Cain ? 
 
 While heedless on our masses move, 
 Their sad-eyed mystics see 
 
 On rushing Cloudland's stage above 
 Dark hints of what may be. 
 
 Palladium and Shibboleth 
 Pose on each misty dome :
 
 DAWNWARD ? 13 
 
 Red Crisis' tableaux blotch with death 
 Smug Order's monochrome. 
 
 Race-ogres here on vulture-cloud, 
 
 And there race-fathers hie ; 
 And Then and Now and Will-Be crowd 
 
 The pantomimic sky. 
 
 Prophetic 'mid the whirlwind flow 
 
 These cryptic figures steal : 
 Are they to be for further woe, 
 
 Or may they be for weal ? 
 
 Will turbaned Shem, revived, through sweet 
 
 White women filtered long, 
 With sober scowl triumphant meet 
 
 The drunken Western throng ? 
 
 Will Ham, acquit of servile strain, 
 
 Of art and craft compact, 
 A loathing Europe's pallor stain 
 
 Democracy in fact? 
 
 Will Japhet still his brothers lead 
 
 Unto the shambled tryst, 
 With tentacles of trading greed - ; . 
 
 And drivel of his Christ ? 
 
 Will Gog, awaked, his Huns outpour 
 
 At empire-breaking time, 
 To sluice away our fame and lore, 
 
 Our features and our crime ? 
 
 Scrolls, written "Debt," and "Wanton War," 
 
 And " Sterile Love," flare high : 
 Are these our Mene ! Mene ! or 
 
 Illusions of the sky ?
 
 14 DAWNWARD ? 
 
 " Majority ! " Divorced from wise, 
 Sad Conscience, will he prowl 
 
 Through tender, human heresies 
 With Torquemadan scowl ? 
 
 And " Comfort ! " Will her siren song 
 
 To narcotising shades 
 Seduce our veterans, while Wrong 
 
 Our weaker frontiers raids ? 
 
 Will " Sport " educe a virile pith, 
 Our pulses teach to throb ? 
 
 Or weary earth re-saddle with 
 A Nika-riot mob ? 
 
 Will centre-seeking " Culture " hold 
 Tangential Passion's bolt ? 
 
 Yield orbits of an Age of Gold, 
 Or comets of Revolt ? 
 
 Yet, foodless oft and homeless, we 
 Not hopeless, loveless, plod 
 
 Whither ? To Failure's midnight sea 
 Or dawnward ? Ay, to God ?
 
 DAWNWARD ? 15 
 
 THE CAMP-FIRES OF THE LOST 
 
 Who will may see, on plains around, 
 
 By scanty rivers crossed, 
 Where only weedy growths abound, 
 
 The camp-fires of the Lost. 
 
 To feed the flame, the twigs and cones 
 
 From dying Hopes we tear ; 
 And wolfish Angers gnaw the bones 
 
 Of dead Ideals there. 
 
 To drown your glory in the dark, 
 
 O children of the Light ! 
 The frail, the crushed, the fell, the stark 
 
 Deploy their hosts to-night. 
 
 Anon a stern-lipped watcher flings 
 
 Remorseless to the flame 
 The effigies of sacred things 
 
 Or bric-a-brac of Fame. 
 
 Grim scouts o'erleap your city's walls, 
 
 Cast potions in your wells, 
 With leprous patches taint your halls, 
 
 And mine your citadels. 
 
 Your timid treasurers await 
 
 The onset of our need : 
 The myriad tramp his lonely hate 
 
 Is whetting on his greed,
 
 16 DAWNWARD ? 
 
 Your serfs grimacing flout your cries 
 Of " honour," " law " and " trust," 
 
 Your lily women recognise 
 The prowling lips of lust. 
 
 Your veil of Art, by free winds tossed, 
 
 Is rending as you look 
 Your Art which claimed to love the Lost, 
 
 And jeered them, and forsook. 
 
 Your brutal Science sends a corps 
 
 Of derelicts to train 
 With formulas of lethal lore 
 
 Our nascent rebel brain : 
 
 And scavengers of learning there, 
 
 And outcast lords of rhyme, 
 Compose as anthems of despair 
 
 And polyglots of crime : 
 
 And godless phalanxes assist 
 
 Our priesthood celebrate 
 A diabolic eucharist 
 
 With chalices of hate. 
 
 Your system's ripened fruits appear 
 
 In psychopath and sot : 
 The tiger women wait you here 
 
 You soiled and left to rot. 
 
 See there ! a squeezed-out sponge of trade 
 Or drunkard's, gambler's wife : 
 
 And there ! a haggard sempstress spayed 
 By Competition's knife. 
 
 Within your walls anon there shines 
 
 A wrecker's signal light, 
 And falcon-featured Catilines 
 
 Sneak to and fro to-night.
 
 DAWN WARD ? 17 
 
 Ah, city dwellers ! fearful wrong 
 
 Entails a fearful cost, 
 And ye that dare may see who throng 
 
 Those bale-fires of the Lost.
 
 1 8 DAWNWARD ? 
 
 PROSPERITY 
 
 Enlaced with gardened jewelry 
 
 My basking villas nest 
 Where sifted sunshine soothes the eye 
 
 And cosy hillocks rest. 
 
 Convention's fronds here screen from view 
 
 Immodest Nature's haunt, 
 And wizard Distance veils in blue 
 
 The haggard peaks of Want. 
 
 The millions fast that I may feast, 
 And drudge that I may play ; 
 
 But Average, complacent priest, 
 Condones the wrong away : 
 
 Finesse, my statesman, calculates 
 
 Subjection's breaking strain, 
 And Comfort crooning mitigates 
 
 The drifting moan of pain. 
 
 My sages God's commandments frame 
 
 From maxims of the desk : 
 My Art, from poverty and shame, 
 
 Evolves the Picturesque : 
 
 By glamour haloed, leering Lust 
 
 So angel-like appears 
 That Scruple loses her distrust, 
 
 And Innocence her fears.
 
 DAWNWARD ? 19 
 
 Secure I lounge upon the shore 
 
 Where Anger's breakers throb, 
 Or, high above the marsh, ignore 
 
 Its ague-smitten mob. 
 
 The highways to Desire I hold, 
 
 And fatten on the fees ; 
 My hungry Science gathers gold 
 
 From limbecks of disease. 
 
 Success, my sorcerer, refines 
 
 My murder-tainted hoard, 
 And hides the felon weals and lines 
 
 With which my back is scored : 
 
 He perfumes from my women's gowns 
 
 Their tainted makers' shame ; 
 In Glory cyclic Wrong he drowns, 
 
 And Treachery in Fame. 
 
 Who reaches me a stream must ford 
 
 Whose poppied waters dim 
 Old dreams of wielding Freedom's sword 
 
 And chanting Freedom's hymn : 
 
 Must hold the claims of Discontent 
 
 Mere envies of the mass; 
 That Lite's repose was only meant 
 
 To dower the ruling class : 
 
 Must learn that Nature weakness scorns, 
 
 That God the serfs ignores, 
 That Toil deserves its crown of thorns, 
 
 And Poverty its sores ; 
 
 That tho' 't is wise with Charity 
 
 Torrential Need to dam, 
 The Hope of Progress is a lie 
 
 And Brotherhood a sham.
 
 20 DAWNWARD ? 
 
 HATE 
 
 I scour the present and the past 
 
 In tyrant-hunting raids ; 
 No weakling in the flocks of caste 
 
 My vulture-sight evades. 
 
 I scatter panic where the hoards 
 
 Of oily Dives breed ; 
 With treason notch Oppression's swords 
 
 And clutch the throat of Greed. 
 
 I show the slave dishonour's scab 
 
 On daughter or on wife, 
 And aim the lightning of the stab 
 
 That spills the satrap's life. 
 
 When tilted Fraud with cant deludes 
 
 The mob, his neck I strip, 
 And point where treason's asp protrudes 
 
 From print of Eblis' lip. 
 
 When Liberty salaams to Fate, 
 
 I fling her gorging foes 
 Gold apples labelled " For the Great ! " 
 
 Till Envy murder grows. 
 
 From malted wrongs I brew revolt ; 
 
 I numb the nerves of Doubt ; 
 Astride Revenge's thunderbolt 
 
 I charge Corruption's rout.
 
 DAWNWARD ? 21 
 
 When Freedom's legions, wearied, nod, 
 
 Relentless on I push. 
 Although my sister, Love, is God, 
 
 I am the burning bush. 
 
 And I, who choke with seeding bane 
 
 The pasturage of Wrong, 
 Demand a niche in Freedom's fane, 
 
 A verse in Freedom's song.
 
 22 DAWNWARD ? 
 
 CUPID 
 
 To get recruits for Pain, I use 
 The bait of Pleasure's lips ; 
 
 I crimp from soft oblivion crews 
 For planet coffin-ships. 
 
 Lest Father Chaos' rule should cease 
 
 I mingle Near with Far ; 
 Afflict alternate years of peace 
 
 With progeny of war : 
 
 In years of fat increase select 
 
 The victims for the lean, 
 And into choicer veins inject 
 
 Infusions of the mean. 
 
 In democratic tyranny 
 
 I cleanse the human face 
 Of tattoo-marks of low and high, 
 
 The black and white of race : 
 
 So mate I handmaid of the vale 
 With baron of the height, 
 
 The sable ogre or the pale 
 With angel brown or white ; 
 
 Yet unity they scarce attain 
 When, as your Science knows, 
 
 I rend them into castes again 
 And fertile racial woes.
 
 DAWNWARD ? 23 
 
 At times I urge to noble ways, 
 
 At times for evil strive : 
 But reckless aye for good or base 
 
 If but the race survive. 
 
 My only care is that blind Life 
 Shall man the world-ship's deck 
 
 In spite of peace, in spite of strife, 
 Until its day of wreck. 
 
 So that it may I weave as charm 
 
 Protean loveliness, 
 The little prides of face and form, 
 
 The alchemies of dress, 
 
 Repute's hypnotic pageantry, 
 
 The hope of ended strife, 
 The vision, that is vanity, 
 
 Of nobler types of life. 
 
 The fruitful kisses of the trees 
 
 Wind-wafted to their mates, 
 The maiden-mother aphides, 
 
 The alternating fates 
 
 Of jelly-fish, or fluke, or moss, 
 
 In higher skies I set 
 Than wifeless Christ upon His cross, 
 
 Or childless Juliet. 
 
 So that it live The Germ ! The Germ ! 
 
 It matters not to me 
 If sheep or tiger, man or worm 
 
 Earth's victor-captain be.
 
 24 DAWNWARD ? 
 
 PROLETARIA 
 
 The sunny rounds of Earth contain 
 
 An obverse to its Day, 
 Our fertile Vagrancy's domain, 
 
 Wan Proletaria. 
 
 From pole to pole of Poverty 
 We stumble through the years, 
 
 With hazy -lanterned Memory 
 And Hope that never nears. 
 
 Wherever Plenty's crop invites 
 
 Our pitiful brigades, 
 Lurk cannoneers of Vested Rights, 
 
 Juristic ambuscades ; 
 
 And here hangs Rent, that squalid cage 
 Within which Mammon thrusts, 
 
 Bound with the fetter of a wage, 
 The helots of his lusts. 
 
 With palsied Doubt as guide, we wind 
 
 Among the lanes of Need, 
 Where meagre Hungers scouting find 
 
 But slavered baits of Greed. 
 
 The wet-lipped Lamias of Caste, 
 
 Awaiting our advance, 
 Our choicest squadrons' fealty blast 
 
 W T ith magic smile and glance :
 
 DAWNWARD ? 25 
 
 Delilah-limbed temptations flit 
 
 Among our drowsy rows, 
 And on our willing captains fit 
 
 The badges of our foes. 
 
 What wonder sometimes if in stealth 
 
 Our starker outposts wait, 
 And, in the prowling eyes of Wealth, 
 
 Dash vitriol of Hate ; 
 
 Or if our Samsons, ere too late, 
 Their treasons should make good 
 
 By whelming in the temple's fate 
 Their viper owners' brood ! 
 
 Our polyandrous dam has borne 
 
 To Satan and to God 
 The hordes of Night, the clans of Morn, 
 
 That through our valleys plod. 
 
 Ah, motherhood of misery 
 
 For Christ-child as for pest ! 
 The greater her fertility 
 
 The drier grows her breast ! 
 
 Too many linger on the track ; 
 
 A few outstrip the time : 
 Some, God has tattooed yellow, black, 
 
 And some disguised with crime. 
 
 Art's living archives here abound, 
 
 Carraras of Despair, 
 And those weird masks of Sight and Sound 
 
 The Tragic Muses wear. 
 
 Tho' blind and dull, 'tis we supply 
 
 The Painter's dazzling dreams ; 
 The rolling flood of Poetry 
 
 From our dumb chaos streams.
 
 26 DAWNWARD ? 
 
 Nay, when your world is over-tired, 
 
 And Genius comatose, 
 Our race, by Nemesis inspired, 
 
 Old Order overthrows : 
 
 With earthquake-life we thrill your land, 
 
 Refill the cruse of Art, 
 Revitalise spent Wisdom, and 
 
 Resume our weary part. 
 
 The palace of successful Guilt 
 Is mortared with our shame ; 
 
 On hecatombs of Us are built 
 The soaring towers of Fame. 
 
 We are the gnomes of Titan works 
 Whose throbbings never cease ; 
 
 Our unregarded signet lurks 
 On every masterpiece. 
 
 The floating isles, that shuttling tie 
 
 All peoples into one 
 By adept steersmen's sorcery 
 
 Of magnet, steam and sun ; 
 
 Religion's dolmens, Sphinxes, spires, 
 
 Her Biblic armouries ; 
 The helot lightning of the wires 
 
 That mesh your lands and seas ; 
 
 The viaducts 'tween Near and Far, 
 Whereon, o'er range and mead, 
 
 Bacchantic Trade's triumphant car 
 And iron tigers speed ; 
 
 The modern steely crops that rise 
 
 Where technic Jasons sow : 
 All these but feebly symbolise 
 
 The largesse we bestow.
 
 DAWNWARD ? 27 
 
 And our reward ? In this wan land, 
 
 In clientage of Greed, 
 Despised, polluted, maimed and banned, 
 
 To wander and to breed.
 
 28 DAWNWARD ? 
 
 A POET OF THE MOMENT 
 
 Criterion of better, worse. 
 Gives me no troubled days : 
 
 I sing as bids the moment's purse 
 In epics or in lays. 
 
 A love will warm a couplet, and 
 
 A lust another spice ; 
 If virtue be not in demand 
 
 I feel no qualms at vice. 
 
 I laugh at fogies who maintain 
 
 My conscience I degrade : 
 His conscience only writhes in pain 
 
 Whose Muse is underpaid. 
 
 They say that Art by God was sent 
 To man His thoughts to limn, 
 
 To be perennial testament 
 Of Progress and of Him : 
 
 That Beauty is but perfect Truth, 
 On Space's canvas traced : 
 
 That Truth is Beauty's self, forsooth, 
 In soul's perspective placed. 
 
 But I have won a poet's name, 
 
 And barter willingly, 
 For victuals now, and now for fame, 
 
 This turgid mystery.
 
 DAWNWARD ? 29 
 
 And for an equitable fee 
 
 My docile Muse will try 
 To prove a tyranny is free, 
 
 Immortalise a lie. 
 
 What prudish mobs consider wrong, 
 
 However right it be, 
 I will denounce in lofty song 
 
 As infamous to me. 
 
 Thus, while abuses laugh at Fate 
 
 In amber of my verse, 
 The voiceless woe must bleeding wait 
 
 Till it can chink a purse. 
 
 It may in theory be wrong 
 
 One's duty thus to fly, 
 To prostitute the gift of song 
 
 For popularity. 
 
 But duty will not villas buy, 
 
 Or conscience cosy robes, 
 Nor is there any reason why 
 
 All poets should be Jobs. 
 
 All Art is Art, since it delights, 
 
 And so, with careless lilt, 
 To sooth Remorse's moody nights 
 
 I sing the joys of Guilt. 
 
 How could my women welcome find 
 
 In Fashion's scented nooks, 
 If, for a craze, I spilt my mind 
 
 In perfect, unread books ? 
 
 When War's sensations charm the brain 
 
 Of those who gild my worth, 
 Shall I impertinent explain 
 
 That War is hell on earth ?
 
 30 DAWNWARD ? 
 
 Those waifs, leg-ironed to despair ! 
 
 The ragged corps of Need ! 
 Suppose I drew God's vengeance there, 
 
 Would they my poems read ? 
 
 If chance has thrown me genius 
 (Which, well-applied, means cash), 
 
 Why should I waste the gift in fuss 
 O'er democratic trash ? 
 
 I much prefer, and so do you, 
 
 To scorn and rags and chains, 
 The pretty moths that flutter to 
 
 The tailored man of brains. 
 
 Shall I denounce as traitor to 
 
 The people he would sell, 
 The morning rumour-vendor who 
 
 Pays Judases so well ? 
 
 The soul may have its higher needs 
 
 (As if you pay, I'll show), 
 But he who with the crowd succeeds 
 
 Must with its current go. 
 
 Successful Vice and Force and Fraud 
 
 Can only reach their goals 
 When such are what the crowds applaud, 
 
 And covet in their souls. 
 
 So I provide the lust that leads 
 
 My maidens hand in hand, 
 The rich rogue's praise, and war's red deeds 
 
 Because they 're in demand. 
 
 Tho' dreamers warn of moral death 
 
 And ragged Envy brays, 
 The Moment is my Muse's breath. 
 
 The Moment 'tis that pays.
 
 DAWNWARD ? 31 
 
 I'd rather lure one pouting maid 
 
 To dalliance with a trill 
 Than with an epic for my blade 
 
 All Future's tyrants kill. 
 
 Why should your starveling's whine dismay, 
 
 Your sweater's wreck annoy, 
 When all one's well-tilled moments may 
 
 Be dedicate to joy ? 
 
 You say my race I'm dragging down ! 
 
 Ha ! With such nymphs a-knee, 
 With gold and wine and glory's gown, 
 
 What is my race to me ? 
 
 'Tis but a glamoured dawn you seek : 
 
 The daylight's here, and now 
 Its flush is on my lady's cheek, 
 
 Its whiteness on her brow. 
 
 And as for query notes of doom 
 
 If doom is near : why, drink 
 With me unto its Sibyl, Gloom, 
 
 And to its Sirens wink.
 
 32 DAWNWARD ? 
 
 THE CITY 
 
 The City crowds our motley broods, 
 
 And plants its citadel 
 Upon the delta where the floods 
 
 Of evil plunge to Hell. 
 
 Through fogs retributive, that steam 
 From ooze of stagnant wrongs, 
 
 The towers satanically gleam 
 Defiance at our throngs. 
 
 It nucleates the land's Deceit ; 
 
 Its slums our Lost decoy ; 
 It is the bawdy-house where meet 
 
 Lewd Wealth and venal Joy. 
 
 Grim wards are here, where Timour Trade 
 
 His human cairns uprears ; 
 There, Silent Towers, where girls betrayed 
 
 Unseen rot through their years. 
 
 The City curbs the wrath that bays 
 
 Rebellious in our souls, 
 By soothing fumes, and pageant days, 
 
 And sweet Circean bowls. 
 
 With Saturnalia of the Serf 
 
 Our discontent it cures ; 
 Its Fraud, to dalliance of the Turf, 
 
 Hysteric Folly lures.
 
 DAWNWARD ? 33 
 
 The Babylonian Venus sways 
 
 In every city park ; 
 Her idiot niece, Abortion, plays 
 
 Beside her in the dark. 
 
 Here, Office fawns fidelity 
 
 When stroked by gilded hands ; 
 In bramble of chicanery 
 
 Belated Justice stands. 
 
 Glib Sophistry our mobs deludes, 
 
 As showman does his beast, 
 By serving up their whims as foods 
 
 From wholesome Wisdom's feast : 
 
 From craze to crime they bleating rage, 
 
 Pursue what least is wise, 
 And, stoning the unselfish sage, 
 
 Impostors canonise. 
 
 At times in free-lance echelons, 
 Or called, at times, "The State," 
 
 Ubiquitous its myrmidons 
 Our foison desolate. 
 
 Exactions on its counters perch ; 
 
 Our marts Commission raids ; 
 Sleek Simony, behind the Church, 
 
 Prepares his ambuscades. 
 
 Dame Rumour, organised, the Press, 
 
 Spirts slander for a fee ; 
 Or, masked in Public Welfare's dress, 
 
 She gags or dirks the Free. 
 
 Great spider intellects here lurk 
 
 In bank and in exchange ; 
 And through the feebler folds of Work 
 
 Hyaena sweaters range.
 
 34 DAWNWARD ? 
 
 Debt's gargoyles 'neath each eave grimace 
 Debt's mildews sour the soil ; 
 
 At all there grins a Shylock face : 
 Round all, Debt's suckers coil. 
 
 Here Thrift, with Art obscene endowed, 
 
 A sterile haven finds 
 Where Malthus-Onan's whey-faced crowd 
 
 Slink from the genial winds. 
 
 The Dead's miasma o'er us creeps ; 
 
 Their mandates dull our brains ; 
 Inheritance, their steward, keeps 
 
 The tithes of our demesnes. 
 
 Phylacteried ascetics brood 
 
 On their precedence here ; 
 There, Science tampers with our food, 
 
 Or taints our atmosphere ; 
 
 And Art spurns Poverty, her spouse, 
 
 To be the courtesan 
 Of ogre of the counting-house 
 
 Or ribboned Caliban ; 
 
 And o'er that hovel-burdened waste 
 
 Where Indigence is pent, 
 The Huns of Property have raced 
 
 On withering hoofs of Rent. 
 * * * 
 
 Yet not all black our horoscope, 
 For, urged by Guardian Fates, 
 
 On hoyden Disobedience, Hope 
 Rebellions procreates ; 
 
 And awful Exorcists contrive 
 
 The potion and the thong 
 That from the City's breast will drive 
 
 Its incubus of Wrong.
 
 DAWNWARD ? 35 
 
 Ripe knowledge of our ill and good, 
 
 In fellowship of woe, 
 Makes fertile streams of Brotherhood 
 
 From Ego's glacier flow. 
 
 The outcast sons of Art and Want 
 
 Tyrtzean songs prepare, 
 To nerve us 'gainst the guns that daunt 
 
 From bastioned Mammon's lair. 
 
 Self-sacrifice averts His frown, 
 
 When, angry, God at last 
 Our Gadarenian droves adown 
 
 Disaster's cliff would cast ; 
 
 And those Bohemians of the mist, 
 Arrayed 'gainst Law, 't would seem, 
 
 Are cleansing for the Harmonist 
 The City of His Dream.
 
 36 DAWNWARD ? 
 
 THE PRESS 
 
 I syllable the thoughts of those 
 
 Who bow the knee to me, 
 In every wilderness where grows 
 
 Far-sown democracy. 
 
 My crucible with shrewd assay 
 
 To statesmanship refines 
 What docile lightnings haul each day 
 
 From crude opinion's mines. 
 
 I teach the people what is good 
 For them and for my purse : 
 
 If vice will aid my livelihood, 
 Then virtue has my curse. 
 
 Impostures simulate the real 
 
 When to my loom I hie ; 
 With threads of truth it can conceal 
 
 The shoddy of a lie. 
 
 I am the arbiter of style, 
 
 And, Caliph-like, decree 
 That books which question me are vile, 
 
 And useless which agree. 
 
 Omission is the master-word, 
 When critics baulk my will, 
 
 With which I blunt Exposure's sword 
 Or Competition kill.
 
 DAWNWARD ? 37 
 
 To what they loathe I can compel 
 
 My devotees subscribe ; 
 Can Right distort to spawn of hell 
 
 With venom of a jibe. 
 
 With silver pieces I can lead, 
 
 From Honour's narrow way, 
 Each Judas with a pliant creed, 
 
 A Saviour to betray. 
 
 When Privilege would Progress blast, 
 
 Or Nemesis bid wait, 
 O'er goodliest fields of Peace I cast 
 
 The tares of racial hate. 
 
 The truth, now lopped to fit my bed, , 
 
 Now lengthened to a lie, 
 I vend ; and for my clients' bread 
 
 The slop of Passion's sty. 
 
 My fluent myrmidons efface 
 
 A scruple with a jest, 
 If broken confidence can grace 
 
 An item with a zest. 
 
 Their art astute to sleep beguiles 
 
 The crowd, or to excess, 
 With Roman rhetoricians' wiles 
 
 In piquant modern dress. 
 
 They haunt the stews where Wealth and Power 
 
 The people's substance waste, 
 So that my clients may devour 
 
 The offal of their taste. 
 
 As I enjoin, they portion blame, 
 
 At good or evil laugh, 
 Profane the blush of wilted shame 
 
 To tint a paragraph.
 
 38 DAWNWARD ? 
 
 Last week I advertised for sale 
 
 The cheapest way to sin, 
 To-day at victims scourged in gaol 
 
 My leader-writers grin. 
 
 To Panic, loose-brained mobs I drive 
 
 With iterated screams, 
 Or lull them, when for Right they'd strive, 
 
 With lotus-eaters' dreams. 
 
 I put the brake on each great Cause 
 
 1 hat rolls on selfishness ; 
 Nay, edit God, whene'er His laws 
 
 My favourites oppress. 
 
 For scores that Cleons could befog 
 
 I can a million sway : 
 I am the modern Demagogue 
 
 In modern Mammon's pay.
 
 DAWNWARD ? 39 
 
 YOUNG DEMOCRACY 
 
 Hark ! Young Democracy from sleep 
 
 Our careless sentries raps : 
 A backwash from the Future's deep 
 
 Our Evil's foreland laps. 
 
 Unknown, these Titans of our Night 
 
 Their New Creation make : 
 Unseen, they toil and love and fight 
 
 That glamoured Man may wake. 
 
 Knights-errant of the human race, 
 
 The Quixotes of to-day, 
 For man as man they claim a place, 
 
 Prepare the tedious way. 
 
 They seek no dim-eyed mob's applause, 
 Deem base the titled name, 
 
 And spurn, for glory of their Cause, 
 The tawdry nymphs of Fame. 
 
 No masks of ignorance or sin 
 Hide from them you or me : 
 
 We're Man no colour shames our skin, 
 No race or caste have we. 
 
 The prognathous Neanderthal, 
 To them, conceals the Bruce ; 
 
 They see Dan ^Esop in the thrall ; 
 From swagmen Christ deduce.
 
 40 DAWNWARD ? 
 
 Tho' butt for lecher's ribaldry 
 And scarred by woman's scorn, 
 
 In baby-burdened girl they see 
 God-motherhood, forlorn. 
 
 With them, to racial siredom glides 
 
 The savage we deprave ; 
 That eunuch brilliant Narses hides : 
 
 A Spartacus, that slave. 
 
 They Jesus find in manger waif ; 
 
 In horse-boys Shakespearehood : 
 And earthquake-Luthers nestling safe 
 
 In German miner's brood. 
 
 The God that pulses everywhere 
 They know fills Satan's veins ; 
 
 No felon but they see Him there 
 Behind His mirror's stains. 
 
 Tis theirs Earth's charnel rooms to clear, 
 
 And ruthless sweep away 
 The Lares and Penates dear 
 
 To man in his decay. 
 
 Their restless energy supplies 
 
 Munitions that will wreck 
 The keeps whence feudal enemies 
 
 Our free banditti check. 
 
 Their unrelenting wars they wage, 
 
 These Furies of the Right, 
 Where myriad Falsehood's legions rage, 
 
 Artilleried by Might ; 
 
 Where Fashion's stupid iron clamps 
 
 Young Innovation's head, 
 And Law the stalwart Present cramps 
 
 In Past's Procrustes-bed ;
 
 DAWNWARD ? 41 
 
 Where Pride of learning, substance, blood, 
 
 Or prowess in the strife, 
 Exacts from teeming lowlihood 
 
 The lion's share of life ; 
 
 Where Gluttony would to the brutes 
 
 Degrade his loose-lipped gangs ; 
 Where Tyranny his venom shoots 
 
 From one or million fangs ; 
 
 Where Cruelty, in Wisdom's mask, 
 Piths fame from writhing beasts ; 
 
 Where blest is racial Murder's task 
 By Christ's apostate priests. 
 
 In Punic or in Persian fray 
 With Love's and Conscience' foes, 
 
 Unadvertising Romans they, 
 And Spartans free from pose. 
 
 Abused as mad or traitors by 
 
 The trolls they would eject ; 
 Cold-shouldered by wan Apathy ; 
 
 Of motives mean suspect ; 
 
 Outcast from social gaieties ; 
 
 Denied life's lilied grace ; 
 They mount their hidden Calvaries 
 
 To save the human race. 
 
 The bowers of Art a few may know ; 
 
 A few wait highly placed : 
 Most bear the hods of common woe, 
 
 And some you call disgraced. 
 
 But whether in the mob or school, 
 
 In church or poverty, 
 They teach and live the Golden Rule 
 
 Of Young Democracy :
 
 42 DAWNWARD ? 
 
 " That culture, joy and goodliness 
 
 Be th' equal right of all: 
 That Greed no more shall those oppress 
 
 Who by the wayside fall : 
 
 " That each shall share what all men sow 
 
 That colour, caste's a lie : 
 That man is God, however low 
 
 Is man, however high."
 
 DAWNWARD ? 43 
 
 A KEYNOTE 
 
 Evading Loves that beckon me 
 
 To gardened Muses' bourn, 
 I take allotted tasks I see, 
 
 To help, to scourge, to warn. 
 
 My ears, attuned (God grant deceived !) 
 
 To secret keys of Fate, 
 From Future's silences upheaved 
 
 Hear flotsam Woes that wait. 
 
 And he who though God's warnings waft 
 
 Yet knows He loves us still, 
 Resigns desire for mastercraft 
 
 To tell the Penman's will ; 
 
 To shame from Art, while men lack food, 
 
 His brothers of the brain ; 
 The serf, his brother of the blood, 
 
 To manhood lead again ; 
 
 To urge on priest his people's need, 
 
 To fight the orphan's foe, 
 The widow save from sweater's greed, 
 
 And bring God here below. 
 
 For temples of his God (and mine) 
 
 Will crumble if he rest 
 While Avarices crush their wine 
 
 From out the Dispossessed.
 
 44 DAWNWARD ? 
 
 When millions trampled in the ruck 
 Succumb to want and crime, 
 
 Are ye who read content to suck 
 Sweet juices from your time ? 
 
 Altho' your elders quench remorse 
 
 As cynic and as sot, 
 Are you, the young, upon their course 
 
 Contented too to rot ? 
 
 There may be here and there a youth, 
 
 A clear-souled girl or two, 
 Who will respond to what of truth 
 
 My verses globe in view. 
 
 Such are my hope, for sanctions old 
 
 Now dimly sink at last, 
 And Mammon's comets waxing bold 
 
 Are gathering too fast. 
 
 The weak and poor are bought and sold ; 
 
 The meek are out of place ; 
 The limpid pools of Love, we hold 
 
 Mere breeding ponds of race. 
 
 Howe'er triumphal Progress blare 
 And Freedom wave flambeaux, 
 
 Reaction's smoke is everywhere 
 And undertones of woe. 
 
 Where Self-conceit sees culminant 
 
 Poor Culture's half-success, 
 Untutored mobs the prophet daunt 
 
 With portents of their stress. 
 
 Society, where teeth and claws 
 
 Bite Indigence and tear, 
 Will prove to be ere menopause 
 
 A womb white Huns to bear.
 
 DAWNWARD ? 45 
 
 Who wrongs the poor for revels, pays 
 
 His dues to Nemesis : 
 Who with Oppression's Gorgon plays 
 
 Shall hear her serpents hiss. 
 
 The bard for lowly service meant 
 
 Fawns on the great to-day : 
 From Art, the cancer of content 
 
 Eats nerve and blood away. 
 
 Great brains- with power divine endowed 
 
 To teach, exalt, persuade, 
 Dole Wisdom tinted, as allowed 
 
 By those by whom they're paid. 
 
 While starvelings stumble to despair 
 
 For lack of but a guide, 
 The miser hermits everywhere 
 
 Their hoards of learning hide. 
 
 The vices of decadence here 
 
 Already levy toll, 
 For Sybaris and Lydian leer 
 
 Pollute the modern soul. 
 
 In Romes we build of rapine, crime, 
 
 And grim monopolies, 
 Incipient Caesars bide their time, 
 
 And deadlier Crassus his. 
 
 For tho' the Sun, Democracy, 
 
 Arises slow and large, 
 With glory that should never die 
 
 Upon our era's marge ; 
 
 Yet while all men to manhood fare 
 
 By its illuming breath, 
 A baser orb is lurking there, 
 
 Emitting rays of death.
 
 46 DAWNWARD ? 
 
 Yea, Wealth, one time a useful thrall 
 
 In needful menial toil, 
 Usurps the pen, the senate hall, 
 
 Is satrap of the soil. 
 
 He dares to stamp his sordid tests 
 
 On learning, art and love, 
 Soils, blasphemous, the very nests 
 
 Of white Religion's dove. 
 
 His whims release the hells of war, 
 
 He gags the consul, judge, 
 And helpless peoples hopeless for 
 
 His pander, Commerce, drudge. 
 
 The love of fame, or for a Cause, 
 
 The True, the Good, obeys 
 The subtle mandates of the laws 
 
 Wherewith the soul he sways. 
 
 And, queen of his infectious train, 
 
 Corruption spreads her fees 
 Till e'en the democratic brain 
 
 Shows symptoms of disease. 
 * * * 
 
 Heard, from the speaking stones that strew 
 
 The hillside of Success ; 
 From spheres whose harmonies anew 
 
 Can those who listen bless ; 
 
 From breaths of every sacred isle 
 
 By which my Muses move, 
 Released from battle's claim a while, 
 
 In Brendan voyage of Love ; 
 
 From shambles of the Dispossessed ; 
 
 From Croesus in his sty ; 
 From old Democracy obsessed 
 
 By fiends about to die :
 
 DAWNWARD ? 47 
 
 Read, in the scars of veterans 
 
 In Want's resultless fray ; 
 In noon-day Science' futile plans 
 
 To yoke the soul to clay ; 
 
 In watchings of the social sky 
 
 And soundings of its deep ; 
 And where Oppression's vultures fly, 
 
 And sad Redeemers weep ; 
 
 'Neath living palimpsests of Pain ; 
 
 On shards of deathless song ; 
 In God's magnificent disdain 
 
 Of Might enthroned on Wrong ; 
 
 Read where, unheeded, outcastes groan, 
 
 And waits Rebellion's form : 
 These verses voice an undertone 
 
 The prelude to a storm ?
 
 SONG OF THE OLD SUN-DIAL 
 
 " Horas non numero nisi Serenas." 
 
 I SING no nitric lays of truth, 
 But filigree the mildewed past 
 With eerie fay-lore, verve of youth, 
 Romance and burgeonry of caste : 
 T strive that Glory's charnel-room 
 
 No gentle nostril overpowers : 
 Tho' grief a million days may gloom, 
 " I only count the sunny hours." 
 
 The sky may warn, in cirrus scroll, 
 
 Of cataclysmic change ahead : 
 Insistent stratus layer with dole 
 
 Horizons spacious Hope had spread ; 
 Weird wrongs may mass their cumuli, 
 
 Or, lurid, belch from nimbus' towers : 
 These weary Joy. I pass them by, 
 
 And " only count the sunny hours." 
 
 The dark is for " the common herd " 
 
 By whom the dirty work is done ; 
 By whom life's sweetmeats are prepared 
 
 For those who can enjoy the sun. 
 You'd have me pen their shoddy strife, 
 
 And deem their fungus virtues flowers ? 
 Deny that glad repose is life, 
 
 And cease to " count the sunny hours " ?
 
 SONG OF THE OLD SUN-DIAL 49 
 
 Tho' women soiled blaspheme the nights 
 
 And veins of men are leeched for gold, 
 Tho' truculent Ambition blights, 
 
 And vulture Hunger hovers bold ; 
 There are a few who know not this, 
 
 A lily few in rosy bowers, 
 To spare their dainty hearts it is, 
 
 " I only count the sunny hours."
 
 COMPROMISE 
 
 I PENCIL glaring wings of Right 
 With Wrong's sedater black ; 
 And rushing Freedom's crotchets with 
 Resurgent minims slack. 
 
 I paralyse the hand of God 
 When He would loose at last 
 
 The gales of vengeance on the ripe 
 Enormities of caste. 
 
 For froward Duty hesitates 
 
 When wrongs grow vested rights, 
 
 And squealing Pity wards the blow 
 Relentless Justice smites. 
 
 The limpid clarity of Truth 
 
 I phosphoresce with lies, 
 And put sophistic hectics on 
 
 The pallor of the Wise. 
 
 My brews that change to mead of Lust 
 
 Love's vapid hydromel, 
 Should tempt the very seraphim 
 
 To nuptials of hell.
 
 GOD IN HISTORY 
 
 WHEN Egypt's secret science solved 
 The mysteries of God, 
 When wonders of the world evolved 
 To every Pharaoh's nod, 
 
 Sad Israel, with tasks o'erweighed, 
 
 A wormwood chalice drank, 
 Or, toys of luxury and trade, 
 
 To slow perdition sank. 
 
 The Pharaohs now are fellaheen 
 Bond-bled 'neath Hebrew sway, 
 
 Where cycles saw their glory green, 
 Simoom and desert play. 
 * * * 
 
 Tho' Athens lured from Silence Song, 
 And Form from Chaos graved ; 
 
 Through centuries of Turkish wrong, 
 Unpitied, robbed, enslaved, 
 
 She penance did for cities sacked, 
 
 For slavery allowed, 
 For sea-kissed Syracuse, attacked 
 
 On clamour of the crowd. 
 
 Tho' Greece in light the old world laved 
 
 (By tidal Homer's song 
 Love-linked), and Europe's pastures saved 
 
 From Xerxes' locust throng ;
 
 52 GOD IN HISTORY 
 
 Tho' Greater Greece in majesty 
 From Gaul to Ganges swayed : 
 
 Their age-long vice and tyranny 
 With age-long bonds were paid. 
 
 Rome gave us Lore and Law, and sowed 
 
 Great norms of Liberty ; 
 But dawning peoples overrode 
 
 With callous usury. 
 
 She held them sponges but to squeeze, 
 And not her trust from God 
 
 The maid for foul adulteries 
 The man for tax and rod. 
 
 Too wide she would at height of pride 
 Her loose-held confines spread, 
 
 So Goth and Parthian myriads died 
 That Roman greed be fed. 
 
 She sickened so, she could not breed 
 
 Upholders of her might ; 
 She armed the stranger in her need, 
 
 She hired her foes to fight. 
 
 Then, to such tint as Verres bled 
 
 The flesh of Sicily 
 Paled fatted Rome, when Etzel fed 
 
 His Hunnish chivalry. 
 
 Lethargic grew her vitals, sucked 
 
 By parasites she bare, 
 The vulture Goths this eagle plucked. 
 
 And cawed the Vandals "There ! " 
 
 And those great Empires of the Seas 
 Tyre, Carthage, Holland, Spain 
 
 Developed golden gluttonies, 
 Grew bandits of the main.
 
 GOD IN HISTORY 53 
 
 The trade they found so deft a tool 
 
 At last they made their goal, 
 And for the maxims of its school 
 
 Each lost its very soul. 
 
 While smugly on their gods they fawned, 
 Whole realms their wars would blight 
 
 To sell a drug, exact a bond, 
 Acquire an Ophir site. 
 
 A vassal or a daughter State 
 
 They sowed 'neath every sky, 
 But goaded them into the hate 
 
 That mothers Liberty. 
 
 To-day Oblivion's mask, Decay, 
 
 Bemoans their old renown ; 
 The mermaids of the Silent Bay 
 
 Have dragged those sailors down.
 
 THE SEED TIME 
 
 Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth." 
 
 ALTHOUGH our satraps can o'erflow 
 Their storied miles with wool and grain, 
 And galleons to Britain go 
 With tribute rich of mine and plain : 
 
 The foodless child, the sterile dame 
 
 In every city's streets appear, 
 And workhouse roofs already shame 
 
 The palaces of pride we rear. 
 
 The native flocks that Hope had bred, 
 Imported errors, thriving, blast ; 
 
 O'er our young nations' faces spread 
 The roue" pallors of the Past. 
 
 In ghastly barrack-rooms of Trade, 
 Mephitic lane and sweater's den, 
 
 Its ogres rob the ripening maid 
 Of power to gift the world with men. 
 
 With Helot joys and scanty crust, 
 Its Youth drifts on to middle life, 
 
 Supplied with outlets for his lust, 
 But daring not to love a wife. 
 
 And 'mid its wildernesses, lo ! 
 
 Its bands of wifeless men migrate 
 With sagging loads of care and woe 
 
 And meagre wallets soured with hate : 
 
 4
 
 THE SEED TIME 55 
 
 Down parched gullies of Defeat, 
 
 By salt-pan stretches of Despair, 
 To goads of endless thirst and heat, 
 
 On aimless tramps to God-Knows- Where. 
 
 Yet we who hope and therefore love 
 Will from its stains the picture clean, 
 
 Will blue the sky of brass above 
 
 And plough the desert grey to green. 
 
 Our Herculean Demos who 
 
 With wild " Eurekas ! " in his youth 
 Emerging despotisms slew, 
 
 Shall rid our land of all this ruth. 
 
 With club of Justice he shall fright 
 The gold-beast from his human prey ; 
 
 Shall drive with arrowed Love and Light 
 Despair's Stymphalian birds away : 
 
 Shall so renew, upbuild, conserve 
 
 Our natal rights to shelter, food, 
 That "none need lack who will deserve 
 
 The joys of parenthood. 
 
 From trees that Eld had never known 
 He '11 bring us seeded Virtue, Health ; 
 
 Yea, snatch from Europe's Art her zone 
 To glorify our Commonwealth. 
 
 Printed by BUTLER & TANNER Frome and London
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 THOMAS C. LOTHIAN, 
 
 226, Little Collins St., 
 MELBOURNE. 
 
 All prices in this Catalogue are Net. 
 
 NOVEMBER, 1909.
 
 THOMAS C. LOTHIAN, MELBOURNE 
 
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 two colours on art paper, tied with silk ribbon. A charming produc- 
 tion. Price is. ; postage id. 
 
 " Marked by originality, and its form is charming." T* Herald. 
 6
 
 THOMAS C. LOTHIAN, MELBOURNE 
 
 A COHPLETE COURSE IN HYPNOTISM. 
 
 PRACTICAL LESSONS IN HYPNOTISM, by Dr. W. W. COOK, A.M., 
 M.D., containing Complete Instructions in the Development and Practice 
 of Hypnotic Power, including much valuable information in regard to 
 Mental Healing, Mind Reading, and other kindred subjects. The 
 chapters include : Philosophy of Hypnotism Qualifications of a Hypno- 
 tist Qualifications of a Subject Favourable and Unfavourable Influ- 
 ences Precautions to be observed How to Hypnotise Degrees of 
 Hypnosis Clairvoyance Self -Hypnotism and Auto-Suggestion Acci- 
 dental Development of Hypnotic Power The Hypnotist's Secret 
 Developing a Subject Animal Magnetism and Magnetic Healing 
 Overcoming [Habits by Hypnotism Criminal Hypnotism Hypnotism 
 and Disease Anaesthesia during Hypnosis Hypnotism and the Insane 
 Hypnotising Animals Hypnotism in Business and Society Hypno- 
 tism in the Professions General Hypnotic Influence Post-Hypnotism 
 Awakening a Subject Mind Reading and Telepathy Hypnotic 
 Miscellany Self-Anaesthesia Method of Producing Hypnosis, etc., etc. 
 All complete in one illustrated book. Price 55.; postage $d. 
 
 AN INDISPENSABLE BOOK FOR EVERY BUILDER, 
 CONTRACTOR, OR ARCHITECT. 
 
 AUSTRALIAN BUILDING ESTIMATOR. A Text Book of Prices, 
 by WALTER JEFFRIES. 320 pages, strongly bound in c' ,ih, Crown 8vo, 
 with full tables and index. 75. 6d. ; postage $d. This book is written 
 by a practical man, who has had wide and varied experience in the build- 
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 prehensive and complete. His own knowledge of the requirements of 
 the trade is supplemented on many points by the advice and assistance 
 received from many specialistic and professional friends, making the 
 book one that no Builder, Contractor, or Architect can afford to be 
 without. 
 
 A POPULAR VOLUnE OP AUSTRALIAN STORIES. 
 
 QUINTON'S ROUSEABOUT AND OTHER STORIES, by EDWARD S. 
 SORENSON. Crown 8vo, 280 pages, cloth ; with attractive wrapper, 
 by ALEX. SASS. Price 35. 6d. ; postage i,d. A volume of 18 original, 
 fresh and breezy Australian stories that are worth reading. 
 
 CLARKE'S ELOCUTION INSTRUCTOR, a large volume giving in a 
 thoroughly practical manner the latest and best methods of becoming 
 a successful Elocutionist. Many and varied exercises are contained in 
 the course. The author, ARTHUR CLARKE, is well known as a most 
 successful teacher, and it is anticipated that his system of training will 
 be largely adopted. Price 35. 6d. ; postage 6d.
 
 THOMAS C. LOTHIAN. MELBOURNE 
 
 THE SECRET OF OPTiniSH. 
 
 EATING FOR HEALTH, by Dr. ABRAMOWSKI. M.D. (Berlin) of Mildura. 
 Victoria. 142 pages, with two photographs. Price is. 6d. ; postage 
 
 tt& 
 
 This book is written from actual personal knowledge and experience. 
 It is the evolution of a common-sense idea of disease and a natural 
 system for its Prevention and Cure. It is as interesting as a novel. 
 Send for a copy and benefit yourself. 
 
 CONTENTS : Eating for Disease. Experiments in Eating. The Influence of Fruit 
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 Diet in Disease : Typhoid Diseases of the Digestive Organs Chronic Rheumatism 
 Acute Rheumatism Pleurisy Cancer Affections of the Lungs Colds. Eating 
 for Death. Eating for Life. What Shall we Eat ? What Shall we Drink ? Humanity 
 v. Alcoholic Stimulants.) Humanity v. Alcohol The Defence. Alcohol and the Medical 
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 mary. 
 
 A NEW THING IN BOOKS. 
 
 "FROM THE OLD DOG." Being a Series of Letters on Politics 
 from an ex-Prime Minister to his Nephew. By FRANK Fox. 
 
 Bright, witty, humorous, instructive. A textbook of White Australian 
 Politics. Price zs. 6d. ; Cloth Edition, 35. 6d. Postage 3<*. 
 
 " It is a book that should prove of value to the young liberal aspirant for politic* 
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 " The ma'"r is good and so is the style." Tkt Addmdt Register. 
 
 " It is full 01 gaiety and wise humour, and more absorbingly interesting than mos 
 present-day novels. Amuses and interests in every line." BaUarat COMTMT. 
 
 JUST PUBLISHED. 
 
 LYRIC MOODS, by ROBERT CRAWFORD. 143 pages, in full cloth cover. 
 Gold blocked. Price 35. 6d. ; postage 3<2. 
 A dainty selection of poetic thoughts put into pleasing rhythm. 
 
 THE AUSTRALIAN CRISIS, by C. H. KIRMESS. Paper cover, 25. 6rf. 
 Cloth cover, 35. 6d. 
 
 "The object of the author is to expose the danger which may arise from the 
 thinly populated condition of this continent. This endeavour has been carried out 
 with an abundance of ingenuity and industry. By a deeply laid scheme a Japanese 
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 to junction Bay in the Northern Territory and there landed secretly. The theme 
 and purpose of the book deserve attention, and it is written with a sincerity which 
 to attractive, 11 T* UUtr. 
 
 * Tanner. Th* Selwood Printing Works, Froo*. 
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