It is so long since the first edition was ex-hausted, that I may be suspected of having modestly supposed that there was nothing about the book which could be wanted, or thought desirable enough to cause the demand, except scarcity of copies: in other words, that 'the fewer the better' was indicated as the general opinion.

The only result of the months which have elapsed is the knowledge that the additions I projected would require perhaps years before they could be properly dealt with, and that I have already said all I positively know of the philosophy of hitting. With theories which are possibly and even probably true, but which are not facts all the same, what golfer is unable to supply himself? It is not without scrupulous care that he can prevent himself from being self-deceived regarding some of these. It is therefore better for me to say too little, than to discredit the rest of the text by admitting even doubtful matter. Where detection is so improbable, one has no claim to be treated as reliable, except by being unsuspected.

I thought at a first reading that the Badminton volume must be challenged and fought. The long and keen but discursive and civil war which I l' forecast' was only seen in another light after I had looked up my weapons, examined some of their points, sharpened my wits, etc. etc. Only then did the antagonism turn out to be, as I venture to hope, for the most part in non-essentials.

If this contention turns out to be sound, to a far less extent even than seems the case, there is an end to the nascitur non fit view, and its proof, 'Look at me!'

That it is sound I am myself thoroughly convinced, and therefore prepared to defend these most pregnant and important theses: -

1st. There are many points of style which are essential to effective play.

2d. There is practical unanimity among golfers in recognising the effect of the presence or absence of most of these.

3rd. Style is discredited by uncertainty as to which are and which are not essentials, and by other adherent causes.

For instance, Mr. Hutchinson advocates the Laidlay stance in driving. He advises putting with the wrists. On these two points we are clearly opposed. There are no others on which I can positively say or think that I differ from him. He advises the club being allowed to slip in the right hand. I prefer to see both hands grasping tightly. But provided a man has power enough in one hand to prevent any slipping, it gives him a freer swing to let go with the right. On the other hand, I can scarcely doubt Mr. Hutchinson would make an exception for buttery-fingered persons. He probably considers them too small a minority to take into account. Besides, as a rule, when he thinks the automatic action of the muscles should be interfered with, he counsels the slackening of joints, which I am inclined to control in the opposite sense. For example, he advises bending the right elbow. One of my objections to this advice is that the exaggerated use of joints prevented me from acquiring any sort of steadiness for some five years. Mr. Hutchinson seems to have reason for warning beginners against too short a swing. But if there were any question as to our general unanimity, it is removed by the fact that we chance to have chosen a model for beginners from the same point of view. I have noted my intention of naming Mr. Stuart and Willie Park, whom Mr. Hutchinson also says are the safest to copy. There is thus no risk of the Badminton being responsible for a style such as mine was for many years. It would be invidious to name whose is the slashing swing which I interpreted wrongly and fatally. The process looked like the unfolding of a three-pieced flail round the body and the refolding of it in front again. This I imitated by getting round myself stealthily, stumbling twice on each journey, and (being vexed the fourth time) letting the ball have it. It is very likely because Mr. Hutchinson sees short and cramped styles are acquired by those who began as old men, that he warns us against being too stiff. Now we old men are not stiff-jointed. On the contrary, we are rather comparable to old carriages. Our springs are soft, we are loose-jointed, we rattle, we have to be screwed up tight occasionally, to feel like whipcord and whalebone. But a peg, when required, ceases to be of any use in course of time. It is better, on the whole, to exhort men to play stiffly. By pulling themselves together middle-aged pupils may learn as strong a game as when they have the elasticity of youth. They don't drive so far perhaps, but it is only the difference between a sea tangle and a stiff shaft which is between them.

On the subject of approaching as a whole we may be said in a sense to differ. Yet it is also true that there is scarcely a word in the Badminton chapter with which I disagree. Golfers will recognise one cause of variance to be that every player has a scheme of approaching known only to himself and to his caddy. Another is, I exclude from ordinary shots many which are absolutely necessary to get very near the hole in difficult circumstances. It may be thought that my pupil is thus aiming only at a second-class game. I admit that it is a humble-looking programme: but it was based upon the approaching during a game that won the championship for Bob Fergusson. He trusted to this scheme and luck, rather than to a more ambitious one. Yet there was no man steadier at ' gallery' shots.

These examples are sufficient to indicate to the reader my drift. But no amount of proof of this sort will be absolutely conclusive, until the subject has been cleared of much that is obscure. Instead of meddling and muddling their own game, golfers with sufficient leisure would not only profit themselves but give an additional interest to play, by keeping in view and collecting data for fixing what are the essentials of style. This is not the place to go into details, but even with the facts which lie ready to every one's hand, so much can be deciphered, that with no very tedious labour the whole subject might likely be cleared up.

The great difficulty in collecting statistics arises, as I have found, from the misconceptions of most men regarding the essential points in their own style. They ridicule (not recognising) the very Baalim before whom they bend the elbow. With one breath they are unanimous regarding certain essentials to be recognised in any good player's style you mention; with the next breath they deny that anything but practice matters. No matter what you practise (they contend), so long as you do practise, golf will be the result.

The recognition of essentials of style or even of practice as a panacea would effect a marked improvement on iron play especially, because it probably depends more on style than any other part of the game.

There is little doubt that many fair players have a scheme of approaching, in which topping and other kinds of missing off the wrist are depended on to supply the amount of drag requisite at the distance. Such a scheme is to be suspected, if occasionally an approach lofts as far past as it was short. This it does when the ball is hit clean, which is very rarely, because it is very difficult to do, and doubly difficult by reason of another fiction, viz., that over-clubbing is wise, and hard hitting a fault. How can the victim even learn to hit cleanly? By practice! What folly ! Most players will recognise that they sometimes get into a way of foundering putts, which is difficult to get out of, because cleanly-putted balls go too far. But it is got over, because how to putt cleanly is one of the few undisputed and universally-known points of style. Not so how to approach properly. Occasionally, however, it is got round. A master-mind hits upon the idea of ' skelping' with the putter instead of trusting to the happy-go-lucky hepperty-kicking, which is called lofting in the foozle scheme of approach. What a comment on the latter, that this skelping is considered a shabby thing to do ! It gives too great an advantage!

It is not necessary to enlarge further. The golfer can realise for himself the endless misconceptions and obscurities and confusions of all sorts that would be thought worth clearing up as soon as it was proved that most Scots require something besides a club and a ball, and an eye to keep on that ball, to develop their heaven-given instinct for 'the Gouf.'

BALLABRAES, AYTON, March 1892.