Society in the towns is made up of a mingling of what in England would be called the middle and upper-middle classes. In some circles the latter preponderate, in others the former. New Zealanders occasionally boast that in their country class distinctions are unknown; but though this is true politically--for there are no privileged classes and no lower orders--the line is drawn in matters social, and sometimes in odd and amusing ways. The townsfolk inside the line are financiers, lawyers, doctors, merchants, manufacturers, clergymen, newspaper owners, the higher officials, and the larger sort of agents and contractors. Here and there, _rari nantes_, are to be encountered men who paint or write, or are musicians, or professors, or teachers of colleges or secondary schools. Most of the older and some of the younger are British-born, but the differences between them and the native-born are not very apparent, though shades of difference can be detected. Money, birth, official position, and ability are passports there, much as in other countries; though it is only fair to say that money is not all-powerful, and that ability, if not brilliant, has a slightly better chance than in older societies. On the surface the urban middle class in the colony differs but little from people of the same sort in the larger provincial cities of the mother country. Indeed the likeness is remarkable, albeit in the colony there is no aristocracy, no smart set, no Army, Navy, or dominant Church; while underneath there is no multitude of hungry and hard-driven poor for the rich to shrink from or regard as dangerous. Yet, except for the comparative absence of frock-coats and tall silk hats, and for the somewhat easier and less suspicious manner, the middle class remain a British middle class still. It is, then, pleasant to think that, if they retain English prejudices, they have also the traditional virtues of the English official and man of business. [Illustration: THE BATHING POOL]