he word in the sense of
warfare or actual desire to harm the other person--this is a far different
matter. What I mean to say is that there is usually a psychic battle for a
longer or shorter period between two persons of similar degrees of psychic
power and development. From this battle one always emerges victor at the
time, and one always is beaten for the time being, at least. And, as in
all battles, victory often goes to him who strikes the first hard blow.
The offensive tactics are the best in cases of this kind.

A celebrated American author, Oliver Wendall Holmes, in one of his books
makes mention of these duels of psychic force between individuals, as
follows: "There is that deadly Indian hug in which men wrestle with their
eyes, over in five seconds, but which breaks one of their two backs, and
is good for three-score years and ten, one trial enough--settles the whole
matter--just as when two feathered songsters of the barnyard, game and
dunghill, come together. After a jump or two, and a few sharp kicks, there
is an end to it; and it is 'After you, monsieur' with the beaten party in
all the social relations for all the rest of his days."

An English physician, Dr. Fothergill by name, wrote a number of years ago
about this struggle of wills, as he called it, but which is really a
struggle of psychic power. He says: "The conflict of will, the power to
command others, has been spoken of frequently. Yet what is this will-power
that influences others? What is it that makes us accept, and adopt too,
the advice of one person, while precisely the same advice from another has
been rejected? Is it the weight of force of will which insensibly
influences us; the force of will behind the advice? That is what it is!
The person who thus forces his or her advice upon us has no more power to
enforce it than others; but all the same we do as requested. We accept
from one what we reject from another. One person says of something
contemplated, 'Oh, but you must not,' yet we do it all the same, though
that person may be in a position to make us regret the rejection of that
counsel. Another person says, 'Oh, but you mustn't,' and we desist, though
we may, if so disposed, set this latter person's opinion at defiance with
impunity. It is not the fear of consequences, not of giving offense, which
determines the adaption of the latter person's advice, while it has been
rejected when given by the first. It depends upon the character or