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$2.25 The Morning Watch by James Agee The Morning Watch is an account of the experiences, religious and other wise, of a twelve-year-old boy, during the early hours of Good Friday and the early stages of spring, in a church school in the Tennessee mountains. It is a story of change and visitations. The effort is to indicate something of the inextricability of good, evil, beauty, preposterousness, the simple, and the unfathomable, in more or less ordinary sensations and motives; and to tell a story which is clear on its surface but, beneath the surface, com plex and ambiguous as a dream. It is left to each reader to determine in his own way what is meant beneath the surface. In many respects this story might well interest any reflective person who has continued on back flap jacket design by George Kelley continued from front flap come directly, whether for good or ill, under the influence of the Christian and, more particularly, the varieties of Catholic religion. In the manner of tell ing, however, the writer tries to fit his prose as nearly as possible to each emo tion, sensation, idea, and action, as these occur and produce each other. The Morning Watch will reward the reader who cares for exact writing — the more so if he has memories, or curiosity, about religious experience. Books by James Agee PERMIT ME VOYAGE LET US NOW PRAISE FAMOUS MEN (with Walker Evans) THE MORNING WATCH THE MORNING WATCH by James Agee HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY. BOSTON jc JUbctstbc JkcBfl Cambridge 1 9 5 1 COPYRIGHT, 1950, BY JAMES AGEE ALL RIGHTS RESERVED INCLUDING THE RIGHT TO REPRODUCE THIS BOOK OR PARTS THEREOF IN ANY FORM This story first appeared in Botteghe Oscure, Rome Qtfje Btberfitbe CAMBRIDGE • MASSACHUSETTS PRINTED IN THE U.S.A. THE MORNING WATCH THE MORNING WATCH I My soul fleeth unto the Lord before the morning watch: I say, before the morning watch. ----PSALM CXXX IN HIDDEN VAINGLORY he had vowed that he would stay awake straight through the night, for he had wondered, and not without scorn, how they, grown men, could give way to sleep on this night of all the nights in their life, leaving Him with out one friend in His worst hour; but some while before midnight, still unaware that he was so much as drowsy, he had fallen asleep; and now this listen- 3 4 ing sleep was broken and instantly Richard lay sharp awake, aware of his failure and of the night. Too late: already it was time: now it was the deepest hour of the deepest night. Already while he slept, with wrathful torches and with swords and staves they had broken among the branches of the Garden; Judas, gliding, had stretched against that clear Face his serpent’s smile; Peter in loyal rage had struck off the dazed servant’s ear and He in quiet had healed him: and without struggle had yielded Himself into their hands. Could ye not watch with me one hour? No Lord, his humbled soul replied: not even one: and three times, silently, gazing straight upward into the darkness, he struck his breast while tears of con trition, of humility and of a hunger to be worthy, solaced his eyes, and awakened his heart. O yes it was an hour more deep by far than the Agony and Bloody Sweat: no longer alone, unsure; resolved, and taken. That was already fully begun which could come only to one ending. By now He stood peaceful before Pilate, the one calm and silence amid all that tumult of malice and scorn and guile and hatred and beating of unhabitual light through all the sleepless night of spring; while in the dark porch way, even at this moment, the servant girl persistently enquired of Peter and he in fury and in terror denied his Lord: