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 its own song of life.

The metaphysician only hears, but does not understand; the occultist hears, sees and studies all these laws, but they operate on him, not he on them. The Illuminatus sees, knows and operates all these laws, blending them into one grand whole, from which he writes the symphony of his own life.

Within this extension of vision and sense there comes the wonder of the sense of smell, and the Illuminatus detects everywhere the auric smell of all things: he can speak as one who speaks with authority even before he has either seen or heard; he can walk, blindfolded, in the most dangerous levels, be surrounded with the beasts of the human plane and yet, with an unerring subtlety, his finer sense of smell will open the truth for him and become the book of wisdom from which he can read the directions of the trail.

Every one carries with him, in his aura, the finer etheric vibrations of his life; and these, translated into smell, reveal his place in the scheme of all things. The drunkard, the prostitute, the thief, the liar, the glutton, the murderer, at heart, all have the odor of their own vibration, and no matter how beautiful they may appear externally, no matter how much they deceive the uninitiated, the Illuminatus can stand before them, or across the room, or even with a wall between, and by the almost imperceptible perception of his higher sense of smell can gain the truth of their soul position.

It has not entered into the heart of man to