Page 17 - Edgar Cayce - The Sleeping Prophet
P. 17

2 - Cayce The Man

Although he many times warned of World War II, predicting its beginning and end, Edgar Cayce was 

as stunned as anybody else when the bombs dropped on Pearl Harbor. He brooded over the war, not 

only for the two sons called to the service, nor the young men fighting and dying on the seven seas, 

but for the passionate feeling he had that man had not learned to live with himself or his God.

Ten days after America's entry into the war, he wrote a sister he loved dearly: "I do hope I won't bore 

you with all the burdens of my heart just now, but this war business about has the best of me. Have 

felt of course that it was coming about, but hoped against hope that it would not But we are reminded 

continuously that 'God is not mocked, and whatsoever a man sows, that must he reap.' "

With customary candor, he acknowledged that he had no inkling, psychically, of the sneak attack. 

"Yes, we have much data that we are seeing coming about, but nothing was ever given as to what 

happened on the 7th." At the same time he expressed his concern for the Navy personnel, who had 

shipped out from the neighboring naval base at Norfolk.

"Had, and hope have yet, some very good friends in Hawaii, haven't heard from them since, though 

had letters mailed just day or two before it happened. Some of them are in the Navy, but not on any of 

the ships reported lost, boys who seem to have gotten much from their contact with the Work; address 

me as Dad, even as my own boys—and have told me I was the sort of a father they would like to have 

had. So you may know about how anxious I am at this time."

Though surrounded by people who loved him, he was a lonely man. Like Lincoln and Lee, whom he 

admired, he carried his cause close to his heart, a cause even more universal than theirs, man's 

understanding of God's purpose for him on earth. Everything he said or did in his mature years was 

subsidiary to this. In his own work, he felt that he was fulfilling this purpose. It was the only thing that 

made endurable the years of doubt, of ignominy, of privation for the ones he loved most. "If I thought 

for one minute it wasn't helping, I'd give it up this instant."

At one of the low points of his life, after his arrest as a fortune-teller in New York City, he returned in 

black despair to his home in Virginia Beach, wondering why, if his work was worthwhile, he and his 

family should suffer one reversal after another. In his depression the lesson of the longsuffering Job 

appeared lost on this fervid student of the Bible. And so he gave himself a reading, his wife, Gertrude, 

asking why his power, if he had any, had not warned of the trap set by police.

The answer was not what he was looking for. On his awakening, his wife, and his aide, Gladys Davis, 

told him what his message was: "A certain amount of scouring was essential for the better 

development of the soul." The much tried psychic shook his head and sighed heavily. "I seem to be 

able to help everybody but myself."

It had been that way with the search for oil, with investments, with simple real estate transactions, 

until Cayce got the feeling that he and materiality were never meant to join hands. At the same time, 

Cayce seldom fretted about money. His attitude toward it was almost child-like. Like an earlier 

mystic, Bronson Alcott, the Concord transcendentalist, he felt the. Lord would provide. And he

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