It is said by some of the best judges of golf, that the rubber-cored ball has spoiled the game. That is a matter upon which opinions to some extent differ; but at all events it can hardly be held that the new ball has improved the game, that is to say, that it has made it any better game than it used to be, though it may be admitted that, by making it easier to play, it has resulted in greater enjoyment being given to a vast number of people than would have been if it had never been introduced. But, in any case, why have we the rubber-cored ball in practically exclusive use at the present time, when the feeling of the golf world on its first introduction was overwhelmingly against it? It is due entirely to commercialism, to that and to nothing else. If enterprising business men who cared for their bank accounts first and their golf afterwards, had not seen that there were fortunes in the rubber-cored ball if it were forced on the players, there would have been no rubber-cored ball to-day. The golfing public was quite compelled to use it, though it may not have been realised at the time, and one result was that the game had to pass through a period of unrest and inconvenience lasting for three or four seasons, while courses were being altered and lengthened, the new ball was being improved, and its various manufacturers were engaged in the attempt to exterminate each other, and there was a foolish interest generated in the breaking day by-day of the record scores of courses. All this upheaval was due entirely to the introduction of an alien element into the spirit of the links, the element of commercialism. Of course one must admit that it is this commercialism that brings about many of the greatest aids to our completer civilisation and comfort, and it has not to be regarded as an enemy to all things. It is the moving spirit of progress and improvement; but it is not generally welcome to golf, because we want neither progress nor improvement in the actual game of golf, but simply the game as it has been handed down to us. In this matter we are entirely and wisely conservative. With the rubber ball in vogue, the case now is that a great industry has been built up, in which there are hundreds of thousands of pounds of capital involved, and in the outer zone of golf there is a desperate war being waged by rival manufacturers. The golf world has to take care that this war is kept where it is, and perhaps all the better if it goes on.

Generally such a thing is to the benefit of the golfer; but all the time there are guerilla raids into the inner zone, and while the amateur player has not been in any way affected by this commercialism, that can hardly be said of all others associated with the game. Business is not sport, and sport is not business, and to a certain extent the legitimate interests of the golfer and the ball manufacturer are opposed in this matter. Just as it was with bicycles in their "boom" days, and as it is with motors now, it is to the interests of manufacturers to get their specialities used on important occasions, and when successes are likely to be made with them. The certificate of merit which is thus given is very valuable and is talked about. The less thoughtful public says to itself, "Surely, then, this thing is better than others," and buys it accordingly. Such a conclusion is not logical, and, of course, is quite unwarranted. Successes achieved with it certainly indicate that there cannot be anything wrong with an article, but they do not prove superiority. They could only do that if it were established beforehand that the human element in the equation were either inferior or not more than equal to the human elements in opposition. It is the same as if they were to advertise and make a great point of the fact that the winner of the Derby was saddled with a particular make of saddle. But in the racing world they believe primarily in their horses. The case with golf at present is not in the least serious. One may feel sure there is no danger of amateur players giving way to money temptations of any sort, or temptations in kind either. The sporting sentiment of the game is too strong for that. If it were not for that the fear for the safe future of golf would be great. Every sport that has been attacked in this way has been killed from the point of view of good health and purity.

There is another possible contingency, though as yet a remote one, in which commercialism may infringe injuriously upon the game, and that is in exploiting it as a spectacle and charging "gate money" to the public. Some people say that golf is not a game that can be used as a spectacle like football and cricket; but that is not entirely true. The interest that is created in cricket and football matches is largely of an artificial and manufactured character. A good drive at golf is quite as fine a thing to look at as a snick to the boundary on the cricket field. Where the difference comes in from the public point of view at present is in the fact that in the case of an important cricket match the public are brought to understand that an enhanced value is attached to each stroke, and therefore there is the more interest in watching it played. Would there not be at least as much public interest in watching a great player attempt to hole a curly two-yard putt if a championship or a side wager of a couple of hundred pounds were depending on it? The temperament of the spectator counts for something in this question of what is a good game for a spectacle, and it has to be remembered that the temperaments of the British sporting crowds have been trained towards cricket and football. Fifteen years ago there was not more than a tenth of the number of spectators at the big football matches as there are in these days, though there were practically as many of them played. And that golf has an attraction, which might very easily become an overpowering one for the spectator, was proved when the international foursome between the leading professionals for £400 was played in 1905, when, on three courses in different parts of the country, there was an average attendance of spectators of about ten thousand each day. That was simply because the match had been talked about and a special interest had become attached to it.