Peck, a golfer since his army days in the '60s, fairly and fittingly uses the game as a metaphor for spiritual growth. Dividing his book into 18 holes with titles like Civility, Human Nature, The Invisible, Deftness (and, for good measure, a 19th called Closure), he navigates his course prudently and self-referentially with a bag full of mysticism, religion, and psychology, and acquits himself with a safe par performance. Nothing particularly dangerous or spectacular emerges from his thinking about the game. Instead, he puts a New Age spin on it--"Golf is probably the most nonlinear pastime on the face of the earth"; "A day of golf may seem like a personal holiday ... but it is hardly a holy day"; "I do believe that golf can be a wonderful spiritual path of growth toward God, but only if one chooses to use it as such"--on the roads already well traveled by such masterful analysts of golf's raptures and ridicules as Harvey Penick, Michael Murphy, Jim Flick, Tommy Armour, Bobby Jones, and Bob Rotella. Peck, of course, is right about golf being a spiritual journey; it's an inner game of personal demons that demands its players to get as much of a grip on themselves as on their clubs. The bogey on his scorecard is that those who play golf already know this.