In any attempt to picture to ourselves the life of future man one of the chief of the things which we have to take into account is the entirely remodelled constitution of society. There will be a small upper class――very small because, as all the prophets agree, the decrease of the birthrate in the upper strata will assume for sometime quite alarming proportions. It will be regenerated for a while by the bolder, more adventurous, and more capable of the working-class, who use their wits to escape from the situation into which they were born. Later, of course, this escape will be facilitated by reliable mental, moral, and vocational tests. The working-classes proper will then consist only of those less capable of administrative, organizing, and managemental functions. There will be relatively little unrest because the ruling classes will have learnt the wisdom of making the workers comfortable and happy; and potential agitators by the system of vocational selection will find themselves more lucratively employed in voicing the opinions of the ruling classes at the broadcasting stations. Plato will have come into his own. His criticism of democracy will have become accepted and the philosopher kings――with a difference――will have become established in the seats of power. Whilst the masses enjoy their innocent pleasures, the ruling caste will live a life of its own. Judged by the present, one might expect it to be a life of sport, gambling, and house-parties, and there may be a transition-period of this kind. In this no doubt some curious forms of sport will be devised. If the theory is well founded which asserts that our present modes of sport are debased survivals of ancient occupations, the craze of the fortieth century may be the fascinating game of mining. It will be played in specially constructed coal-mines, filled with ingenious traps, blind alleys, and water-hazards. Messrs Pope and Bradley in those days will circularize their clients by provocative letters pointing out that last year’s mining suit is hopelessly out of date, or that the time has now come for replenishing the aerial wardrobe for the forthcoming polar sports. Chemical warfare, conducted with novel forms of laughing-gas, will be a popular institution at Christmas parties. Various considerations combine, however, to suggest that sport is but a transitory phenomenon in human life. Firstly, the applications of scientific method to its pursuit is tending to remove its distinctive character. And this tendency for economic reasons is likely to prove irresistible. The old-fashioned sportsman will protest against the newer methods. He may refuse to bring to the golf course wind gauge and slide rule; he may refuse to attend to the lessons of motion study, but in consequence of his stubbornness he will find himself too ridiculously outclassed to appear on the course at all. His will be the fate of the older militarists who protest on similar grounds against chemical warfare.