Page 8 - Edgar Cayce - The Sleeping Prophet
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the human body and soul, the earth, the Universe itself. He was the man with the X-ray eyes.

In my current research, I soon became aware that the Cayce influence was stronger now than in his 

lifetime. It was almost as though a self-limiting world, softened up by flights to the moon, laser rays 

and television, was catching up posthumously to the sage who had sleep-talked of a forgotten 

civilization, technologically comparable with our own—the Lost Continent of Atlantis, a visionary 

experience shared with that great figure of antiquity, the philosopher Plato.

Twenty years after his death, the mystic's life work was thriving, slowly and painfully collected from 

thousands of readings and left as bis legacy in the files of the Association for Research and 

Enlightenment in Virginia Beach. Scorned, generally, by the medical profession while alive, the dead 

Cayce, and his readings on disease, was now a magnet for the inquiring minds of distinguished 

medical researchers. "Cayce," one medical authority reported, "was one hundred years ahead of his 

tune, medically, and one day we may rewrite the textbooks on physiology and anatomy to conform 

with his concept of health flowing out of a perfect harmony of blood, lymph, glands and nerves." 

Years before psychosomatic medicine, Cayce stressed that tensions and strains were responsible for 

stomach ulcers.

In a benign Nature, he saw the remedy for any health deviation or illness man was heir to, though, at 

the same time, he realized that not everyone could be helped when their time was at hand. Thirty years 

before the revelation of a rabbit serum "cure" for cancer blazoned across the country's front pages in 

1966, Cayce had prescribed such a serum for cancer cases, and described how it should be prepared. 

However, as he recommended it in only five cases of the seventy-eight he diagnosed as cancer, in his 

schemata it was obviously only helpful for certain cancers.

In the years since his death, five hundred healers of every description—MDs, osteopaths, 

chiropractors, physiotherapists have familiarized themselves with his methods, and in such diverse 

areas as Virginia, New York, Michigan, Arizona, Connecticut, and California, people who could get 

no help elsewhere are being successfully treated out of his readings. One woman was cured of a 

vaginal tumor by a therapist who had studied his Cayce well; again, dramatically, I learned of a man 

cured of incurable psoriasis, by a voice from the dead, so to speak.

I sat and marveled, watching a distinguished American composer, a semi-invalid only a short time 

before, rolling around on the floor, doing the Cayce-inspired exercises that had magically loosened the 

arthritic joints of his shoulders, arms, and fingers. He was a new man, he told me gratefully, thanks to 

the dead Cayce.

There was little question of Cayce's healing force, for I was able to check this out with the hopelessly 

ill who had been helped. I spoke to therapists, principally osteopaths, whom he did not consciously 

know, to whom in his lifetime he directed patients. He had told one Staten Island mother, with an 

ailing child, "Find Dobbins," and her steps finally took her to a young osteopath, Dr. Frank Dobbins, 

so newly arrived to Staten Island that his name was not yet in the New York City telephone directory. 

And just as Cayce had not consciously known of him, so Dobbins had never heard of Cayce.

The prescriptions he recommended were often as incomprehensible. Some had a dozen different

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