The Fourth Hole
Golfator. Come, my good Scholar, let us tarry a space beneath this maple, that we waste not the morning utterly, but give ear to the meadowlarks, and take in the sweet scents which the sun distilleth from the new leaves and grasses. And if your mind still be on this golf you may view, to your profit, the players that pass by us; for it is as needful to know what to avoid doing as what to do.
Scholar. Here comes one that has played these many years, yet methinks he performs but indifferent well.
Golf. Ay, sir, and should he attain to the years of Noah he would come to no greater skill. This is one that, scorning instruction, hath worked out his own game—a poor thing but his own. There be many such, and when they play one against the other, commonly for stakes, ’tis a great battle of blunders. Mark you that drive! The green is but an iron shot away, but the ball has fallen a score of yards on this side.
Schol. Yet he smote it mightily.
Golf. A lusty stroke, that might have served in the driving of a fence post, but one that is as ill suited to the propelling of a golf ball as the stroke of a pile driver, the which it counterfeits. The marvel is, not that the ball fell short, but that it flew so far.
Schol. Ay, marry, he swung like a knight of Camelot upon an adversary’s shield.
Golf. Not so, else there had been room for praise. Think you the heroes of Camelot buffetted the enemy so ineptly, fighting their own selves at the top of the swing, as most golfers do? Nay, I promise you. Sir Launcelot timed his mighty blows; nor did he strike stiffly, in a piece, but drove sharply with his wrists, on which his sword turned as upon a hinge, his great arms following, and there was naught to resist his cleavage. Wherefore the fame of his follow-through spread through all the land. And this matter of the follow-through you are now to consider.
Golf. You are to know, my honest Scholar, that the follow-through, concerning which an infinite deal of nothing is said and written, is like to the snark, and he that setteth out to compass its taking will have his trouble for his pains. For the follow-through is the result of a proper stroke, and not the cause of it; it hath not a separate existence, as a something to be sought after; therefore I would have you take no thought of it.
Schol. Yet, Master, have I seen players practising this thing with exceeding industry.
Golf. Marry, sir, Simple Simon was as well employed. But ’tis the way of man to seek after the ends and take no thought of the means, and to look upon success as a something bestowed by heaven upon one mortal and denied to another. This is but vanity and vexation of spirit, as the Preacher saith. My good Scholar, this golf teacheth a man more things than one, and if you have any philosophy in you you shall nurture it and bring it to a full flower; but if you are wanting in philosophy you shall have as much profit in the beating of a carpet, for the which a multitude of golfers are by nature fitted.
Schol. Sir, your words are as apples of gold in pictures of silver.
Golf. Fairly spoken, Scholar; yet I mark you are impatient to be forward with your game, such as it is. Take, then, your iron and I will counsel you in the using of it.
Schol. I have heard, Master, that ’tis easier to play with the iron than with a club of wood.
Golf. As to that there be two opinions, as usual, and you will be wise to follow either, for I am satisfied that they are of equal value.