Then another thing to note about these pictures is the way in which they are related to one another. We may have a passive or an active attitude toward the show that is going on. When you are in a passive condition, you know how oddly these pictures come on, what an absurd relation sometimes they have to one another. They seem to have no logical connection whatever. Some pictures always appear together, although they may have no connection except that they were originally associated in that way, and you can never get one of them without the other turning up. It is amusing, sometimes grotesque, sometimes absurd, the way these pictures are grouped. Some come in what we call a logical series; that is, they have some connection with one another, one brings up another, and you go through the series from one point to another. Oh, how promiscuously these pictures come on the screen of the mind, some without the slightest premonition of their coming. It is fascinating to recall the process by which one picture suggested another, and that one a third. At times the spectator within us takes control and says, "I won't have that picture any longer, I will have another." He has the power to summon pictures. There lies the control. If there be in this world anything like self-control, that self-control is in the control of mental imagery. That control is the secret of personality. In terms of mental imagery can we define the individual and his power over himself, for mental pictures control our lives. Habit is merely a mental picture which has become automatic. Just because you can do the thing although you are conscious of the picture no longer, it does not mean that that image was not there once. When I want you to do something, I tell you to do it. If I have authority over you I put the picture of that act in your mind and I hold it there until it has worked itself out in conduct. Of course, I should not go about it in that way, with you, as an association of librarians. Not at all. I should attempt it in quite another way. I should sneak the picture into your mind by what we call indirect suggestion. If you were somebody I could browbeat into doing what I told you to do, I could order you to do it. In other words, I could jam the picture right into your mind, hold it there and say, "Now, you do that thing." But, with you, I couldn't do it that way. But I think I could manage some of you at any rate. When you were not watching, I should slip the picture into your mind. You wouldn't know where it came from. It would come on naturally. You would think you thought of it yourself. That is the gentle art of suggestion, to slip a picture on the screen of a person's mind without letting him know how it got there. He naturally, then, supposes it is the result of those deceptive processes which he identifies with personal thinking. You cannot cram ideas down the throat of a free-born American citizen. Of course, you can't.