IN Gleneagles the call of the game is ever insistent, but while yon may go there with no purpose beyond golf, yet in the pageantry of the passing seasons the landscape far and near will hold you enthralled. As in the glen so on the Jolt Course beauty and charm ate everywhere. Season follows season ever bringing new delight. Winter's snows may still cap the crests of the distant Grampians, but in the near glen in Spring the warmth of the early sunshine is garnered to kindle the whin and the broom into glorious golden flame and coax the early primrose into flower. Summer comes, the song of the lark mingles gaily with the plaintive cry of the wild curlew and the startling "screich" of the black cock and the grouse. The drowsy bum of the bee is borne on the breeze, wild flowers scent the air. The bluebells, the violets, the pansies, the wild orchids, the foxgloves, and the heath and the heather, in sight of all the fairways, suggesting a gorgeous tapestry of wondrous brilliance, make an exquisite and ever-changing scheme of colour. And with

Autumn in its mellow glory regally robed in russet and purple the cycle is complete. There is no question as to the charm of it all. The merald freshness of the greens and fairways, the play of light on the lone pines setting the filagree of fairy branches against the sky; moorlands aflame with heather, all in their season a constant delight to the eye. The beauty of the place is wonderful. And in the wider panorama of varied grandeur as seen from Drumsichty, Tappit Hen, and other heights on the Golf Course, there are the Ochil Hills - green to the very top - and the peaks of the Grampian and other mountains - some of them snowcapped all the year round - Ben Lomond, Ben Venue, Ben Vorlich, Ben Lawers, Schiehallion and Ben Ledi - so many of which in their Highland settings have been pictured to us by the poetic genius of Sir Walter Scott in "The Lady of the Lake ": -

Where shall he find, in foreign land, So lone a lake, so sweet a strand ! There is no breeze upon the fern,

No ripple on the lake, Upon her eyrie nods the erne,

The deer has sought the brake; The small birds will not sing aloud,

The springing trout lies still, So darkly glooms yon thunder cloud, That swathes, as with a purple shroud,

Ben Ledi's distant hill.

Besides the impelling influence of its beauty Gleneagles offers tranquility and seclusion to refresh the soul and bids us count the world well lost. It has indeed - leaving golf out of the question altogether- the essentials to be desired in any place in which we may seek to spend a holiday and, completely forgetting the cares of the every day, store up fresh vigour and have re-created within us the glow of health.

While fresh beauty constantly charms the visitor, the spaciousness of the place, the magnificence of the scenery, the tonic virtue of the exhilarating and recuperative air, the perfection to which the facilities for golf have been brought all combine, in wondrous measure, to impart glamour to Gleneagles. Its fascination is hard to define. If one were to attempt to sum it up, it probably could not be better expressed than in the words of Robert Louis Stevenson who. writing of Fontainebleau might well have been thinking of Gleneagles when he declared "There is no place where the young are more gladly conscious of their youth, or the old better contented with their age." Gleneagles appeals to both those who have youth and to those who - although content in having had it - have not relinquished the natural desire to renew it.

You will not have been long on the Golf Course before you are caught up and carried away by the wonderful beauty of the surroundings. It asserts itself with the fine flush of fresh experience, weaving around you a hundred captivating fancies that were never intended to be permitted, even tor a moment, to interfere with your game. You will not be able to help vourself. vet you will not mind. You are, however, bound to realise how it comes about that even the pick of players - a group to which you yourself may happily be attached - are not able to play their best on the first round. They tread on enchanted ground and for the time their vision is of the landscape; their eye is not on the ball. And you will also understand why golfers sometimes miss their homeward bound train. They simply cannot bring themselves to break the spell of gladness.

In this connection the motto of Gleneagles "Heich abune the Heich" - anglice' "High above the High" - has special significance. We come up to the region of the Highland hills; the winds from the hills and heather moors are sweet and refreshing, and there are the vistas from the Golf Course, rare and charming. To the ardent golfer the finest vista of all may be that of the Golf Course itself, but in that respect also the motto is no less appropriate. Gleneagles has been placed among the best of the World's golf courses by ten thousand players. It has indeed been described by many as occupying a pinnacle position - "Heich abune the Heich" - and while even the suggestion of exaggeration is greatly to be deprecated one hesitates to question an opinion that appears to be more or less universal.

With all this you begin to have some idea of the attractiveness of "Golf at Gleneagles." Little wonder that its excellence has been proclaimed by the world's champions, by the prominent amateurs, and by those who, if not yet among the elect, have known moments of exultation in playing the game.

Such is "The Golf Course the Great in Scotland."

But the play's the thing !