In reading Duncan's chapters in this book I have been greatly struck, though not for the first time, with the change that has come over golfing doctrine since the time when there first began to be a considerable educational literature in golf. It is not merely that more latitude is in many respects allowed to-day. That would be natural enough, for with the enormously increased number of golfers there must be more players to constitute the exception to the rule, and those players good enough to command respect. It is rather that some of the rules, which were laid down as laws of the Medes and Persians, are now regarded not merely as rules that may be broken, if it best suits the learner's idiosyncrasy to do so, but as contrary to the practice of many of the best players.

Since The Art of Golf and the 'Badminton' were written-and there have been many books since, but none I think so well worth reading-a far more closer study and analysis has been made of the methods of leading players. The art of the instantaneous photographer has helped to elucidate some mysteries, whereas the 'posed 'photograph not only did no good but a good deal of harm. To give an obvious example, any golfer who deliberately poses for a photograph at the top of his swing instinctively raises the right elbow in order to keep the club in position. Hence he and other people might easily get the notion that this elbow should be far higher at the top of the swing than it in fact is in the playing of a real shot.

Some of the changes of teaching are due to the change to the rubber-cored ball, and in any case it does not at all follow that in every case the modern doctrine is right and the ancient one wrong. There is a fashion in golfing styles as in everything else, and if some super-golfer should arise who takes a short run at the ball on the tee, those unfortunate people who write about golf would no doubt find some good reason why we have all been utterly wrong in trying to hit more or less firm footed. In one or two cases doctrines which were preached in the eighties and later, thought to be unsound, are now coming into their own again with the inevitable swing of the pendulum. In any case it is rather entertaining to examine a few conspicuous examples of the changes of doctrine that have taken place.

Take first of all the question of grip. Mr. Laidlay for years held his club in the method which is now called the 'Vardon' grip or 'overlapping 'grip, but he was treated as an eccentric genius, and the laying of any thumb down the club was, save for the short game, forbidden. When Mr. Everard wrote his very interesting book Golf in Theory and Practice in 1896, he admitted that there must be some relaxation. 'We see,' he said, 'the Vardons with the thumbs down the shaft; Taylor with his odd right-hand grip.' But Mr. Evcrard had not quite grasped the true inwardness of the new method, for a little later on he says: 'One thing is certain, that, when the club strikes the ball, the shaft in all cases must have arrived in such position that it is resting in the fork at the base of the thumb ; those who adopt the finger grip allow it to drop into that position during the upward swing.' Here is a curious instance of wrong observation by a very learned golfer. Those who use the overlapping grip never do anything of the sort. Ask Taylor if he ever did so and he will repudiate the charge with alarming energy. It is the point of this grip that it is an unchanging one throughout the swing. The right hand may relax a little of its tightness at the top of the swing, but the club never 'flops,' to use the most expressive word, into the web of the thumb. It stays, where it began, in the fingers. But the older doctrine that the club should turn freely in the right hand was too strong for those brought up in another school.

Personally I should never be much surprised if there set in a wave of fashion for the old-fashioned grip such as Abe Mitchell uses so effectively. Not for the select body of the best professionals perhaps. They have proved, as far as it can be proved, that for them the overlapping grip conduces to the most accurate golf. It may lose them a little distance, but they can afford that and need the accuracy. It is an interesting little fact that Duncan when he wants to test a shaft goes back to his boyhood's grip, since he finds he can thus get more life and 'feel'out of the shaft. He thinks he gave up a perceptible number of yards of length when he took to overlapping. This makes one wonder whether the general run of mankind have done themselves much good by blindly taking to this grip. They have not got the strong wrists and fingers of the professional, and they cannot very often afford to forgo any fraction of strength and length. It is noticeable too that good lady players, who are presumably not very strong in the fingers, hold their clubs as a rule in the old-fashioned way. One of the most positive of my friends, and a very good golfer, stated roundly the other day that amateurs as a class had done more to spoil their games by following one another sheep-like in this overlapping habit than by anything else they had ever done. He is, as I said, a positive and arbitrary gentleman, but there is perhaps something in his views. As a confirmation of them it is worth pointing out that in cold weather, when it is difficult to get a firm grip of the club, Braid often ceases to overlap with his right hand ; and Braid on a cold day can grip a club much more firmly than most of us can on a warm one. We used once to hear a great deal about 'Left hand tight and right hand loose.' To-day that respectable maxim is little quoted. Duncan, however, does quote it, and puts what I take to be the right interpretation on it, namely, that the right hand is not to do too much work in the taking up of the club. Its turn comes on the way down.

In the matter of stance in driving we seem to be getting back to what we were originally taught. Sir Walter Simpson and Mr. Hutchinson preached the stance with the right foot drawn back a little behind the left, and in that they followed Mr. Chambers and Mr. Forgan. Then there came Harry Vardon and Taylor standing 'open.' Mr. Ball had stood open and perhaps Hoylake had copied him, but generally he had been regarded as a brilliant exception. Now people began to think that what Vardon and Taylor did must be right for every one else, and stood open accordingly. But to-day the fashion is setting the other way. We see Duncan standing very distinctly 'square': Taylor's stance is not so open as it used to be, and right feet in general are being pegged back. The great mass of American players too stand decidedly square. The average golfer has discovered that the early and orthodox teaching was soundest for them. He may feel very comfortable with an open stance and have the sensation of knowing where he is going, but he is apt to pick up the club too straight and cannot so easily get the big true full sweep that is best for him.