In many other ways what we call the liberty of the subject is interfered with, the distinct proviso being laid down that the law may punish any person for doing anything which is harmful to his neighbour. Which, of course, strikes at the root of monopolies, and of all those evils which usually accompany the building up of enormous fortunes out of the woes of the wage-earner. And yet, of course I suppose, there are evils attendant upon all this dry-nursing--evils which I have heard liberally descanted upon by citizens, but will not enlarge upon myself because, in the first place, I am not likely to come here to live, and next because I am too grateful for the removal of many of the horrible diseases of the body politic which are rampant at home, and can there, alas, only be cured now by drastic remedies involving much suffering to innocent people. Of course you have heard all about the old-age pension system out here, which is now about to be extended to Australia. I am not sufficient of an actuary to know what it will eventually cost, but I do know that at present it is hailed with intense satisfaction by all classes, who pride themselves upon having solved a problem that has baffled all the civilised nations. More than that, a public-spirited citizen of Auckland has erected and endowed a really beautiful building in one of the most romantically picturesque suburbs of Auckland, which is called the "Costley" home for aged people, and is on the lines of what we at home should call an almshouse or set of almshouses. Here with their pensions the old folks can, and do, live most comfortably, having entire liberty to do what they please, just as if they had retired upon a competency of their own earning. And, indeed, they are led to regard the old-age pension in that very light. In such a practical community as this it is, perhaps, superfluous to add that every care is taken to exclude from the benefits of the pension scheme all those whose habits of drunkenness and laziness have made them unworthy of its provisions. It really does not put a premium upon wasteful debauchery.
When I was last in Auckland, thirty-five years ago, I used to be much amused and interested in watching the Maories, both men and women, strolling about the streets with a lordly air of indifference to everything under the sun but their own ease and comfort. The idea of work of any kind seemed entirely foreign to their nature, and although they were gratefully taking to the white man's style of dress, it was very slowly, and the mixture of native and European costume produced some grotesque effects. It was very funny to see a Maori belle dressed from top to toe in what she had been led to consider was the height of European fashion, plump suddenly down on the nearest convenient spot and hastily remove the tight boots which had been making her hobble like a Chinese lady. Tying them together with a piece of string, she would sling them over her shoulder, then producing and lighting a short, black pipe, she would resume her leisurely way sublimely indifferent to what anybody thought of her carefree proceedings. And the older natives were often dressed in a complete native garb, save that they wore trousers. It helped one to realise how near to the native times of supremacy we were to see these calm-eyed Maories strolling along the streets gazing at the strange sights but never manifesting any surprise or even interest.