This section is from the book "The New Book Of Golf", by Horace G. Hutchinson. Also available from Amazon: The new book on golf.
Having arrived at a definition of 'hit,' we may with propriety try to discover the exact meaning of the term swing. In the last paragraph it was said that, so far as either hand produces swing, the left does the work. As a matter of fact, it is the turn of the body which swings the club. We may conveniently visualise the path of the club head through the air as the arc of a perfect circle, although it is really an ellipse. The centre of that circle is the player's backbone, and the length of its arc is properly estimated by the amount of body-turn, not by the extent of the club head's backward journey. It is popularly supposed that Mr. Maxwell's swing is very short. A careful examination of his photographs shows that it is quite full. True, the club head rarely is lifted back higher than his right shoulder, and his hands are seldom above the level of his waist. But the body-turn is quite complete. His shoulders, which at the time of his address were parallel, or practically parallel, to the proposed line of his ball's flight, are, when he is at the top of his back swing, at right angles to that line. It will be of great assistance to the beginner if he can realise what his instructor means when he talks about swing. Few golfers have never felt the desire to drive with a full swing; many have been led by that desire to take their clubs back further than is at all necessary, to the great detriment of their play. Within limits it is true to say that the less distance the club head is withdrawn from the ball the better the results. The limits alluded to are set by two facts: one is that the swing should be full, the other that the right arm must have sufficient space in which to do its special work, the 'hitting.' A powerful but stiffly built man like Mr. Maxwell can get the desired effect, and yet curtail the arc described in the air by his club-head. Less muscular and more supple individuals require more room for their manoeuvres. Every man must discover for himself by experiment the length of backward arc most suitable for his peculiar physical conformation. It will aid him to arrive quickly at the required knowledge if he learns from the start to measure length of swing by the amount of pivoting round his backbone done by his shoulders and loins, and by nothing else. Roughly speaking, the stronger a man's forearm the less the space which he requires for dealing an effective blow, and the shorter the distance which he need withdraw his club from the ball. The truth of this is made more apparent by cricketers than by golfers; the former hit the more naturally of the two and are the less disposed to aim at a style rather than the ball. Mr. Ernest Smith and Mr. B. J. T. Bosanquet, each of them conspicuous among the hard hitters of their contemporaries, seldom lifted their bats shoulder high even when making their biggest drives. Major H. S. Bush, a man of much lighter and more wiry build, takes his up to the level of his right ear, and sends the ball equally far and high. The explanation of the difference between the two styles is obvious. The last-named batsman requires more space for the full development of the hitting action - the underhanded throw - than the other two. The essential method of all three is the same.
The purpose of this chapter being to provide a basis of theory on which professional teachers, and the other eminent authorities who discourse in subsequent chapters of this book about the various golfing shots, can build an abiding edifice, I should be encroaching on their domain if I were to deal particularly with the different clubs, their use and abuse. Yet I have not quite reached my conclusion. So far I have endeavoured to set down the minimum of general knowledge required by a learner before he can extract the maximum of profit from technical instruction. It remains to decline from theory to practice and state what is in my opinion the best, or rather the only proper way for a would-be golfer to organise his education. To those whom I most desire to serve my remarks will seem to be uttered by the voice of one crying in the wilderness. They will not read this or any other book about golf until they have been some weeks at the game, and have possibly contracted bad habits which they will find difficult of eradication. Herodotus once said that the worst pain which the human mind can suffer is to have foreknowledge of many things combined with inability to influence anybody. I face the prospect of suffering that awful agony because there is a reasonable chance that professional coaches will read what is printed below and adopt, at least in part, the educational methods there recommended. They have to contend with the fact that the embryonic golfer wants to run before he can walk; and, so far as my experience goes, many of them encourage him in his error by letting him begin straight off with a wooden club. It is not very surprising that a professional should put first into the hands of a raw pupil the club with which he himself commonly commences his daily round. But it would be much better for the pupil if he would refuse to gratify his almost irresistible desire to drive balls as far as possible, until he has to some extent mastered what for lack of a better name I will call the 'Fundamental Shot.' This is nothing more nor less than a long putt played as stiffly as is compatible with some freedom of hitting. The distance which the ball goes will vary according to the club used; a cleek may send it one hundred and fifty yards on hard flat turf, a mashie no more than sixty or seventy. The wisest golfer of my acquaintance, when he finds himself off his driving, invariably confines his practice, if he can so far overcome his constitutional laziness as to go out and indulge in solitary practice, to repeated execution of this Fundamental Shot with his play-club. One of the most difficult tasks which a man can set himself is the description of a particular stroke in any game. One may say, with some hope of conveying his meaning clearly to the mind of another, how he himself executes the necessary motions, and it is possible to enumerate precisely the ideals aimed at. But ultimately the value of every lesson must depend on its apperception in the mind of the pupil.
 
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