The Sun.
London, England, 1867-06-10 00:00:00

711 E "DIARY" OF TVILKES BOOTH.

The following is a copy of the contents of the
now famous diary :
"Te amo," April 13th, 14th. Friday the Ides.
Until to-day nothing was ever thought of sacrificing
to our country's wrongs. For six months we had
worked to capture, but our cause being almost lost.,
something decisive and great must be done. But
its failure was owing to others who did not strike
for their country with a heart. I struck boldly and
not as the papers say. I walked with a firm step
through a thousand of his friends and was stopped,
but pushed on. A colonel was at his side. I
shouted " Sic semper ."' before I fired. In jumping
I broke my leg. I passed all his pickets, and rode
60 miles that night with the bone of my leg tearing
the flesh at every jump. I can never repent it,
though we hated to kill. Our country owed all her
trouble to him, and God simply made me the in-
strument of his punishment. The country is not
what it was. This forced Union is not what I have
loved. I care not what becomes of me. I have no
desire to outlive my country. This night, " before
the deed," I wrote a long article and left it for one
of the editors of the .A'ational Intelligencer, in which
I fully set forth our reasons for our proceedings.
He or the Government

Friday, 21.—After being hunted like a dog
through swamps and woods, and last night being
chased by gunboats till I was forced to return wet,
cold, and starving, with every man's hand against
me; lam here in despair. And why ? For doing
what Brutus was honoured for, what made Tell a
hero, and yet I, for striking down a greater tyrant
than they ever knew, am looked upon as a common
cut-throat. My action was purer than either of
theirs. One hoped to be great, the other had not
only his country's but his own wrongs to avenge.
I hoped for no gain. I knew no private wrong. I
struck for my country, and that at once ;--a country
that groaned beneath this tyranny and prayed for
this end, and yet now behold the cold hand they
extend to me. God cannot pardon me if I have done
wronc, ; yet I cannot see my wrong, except in serv-
ing a degenerate people. The little, the very little
I left behind to clear my name, the Government
will not allow to be printed. So ends all. For my
country I have given up all that makes life sweet
and holy, brought misery on my family, and am
Sure there is no pardon in the heaven for me, since
man condemns me so. I have only heard of what
has been done, except what I did myself, and it fills
me with horror. God, try and forgive me, and
bless my mother. To-night I will once more try
the river, with the intent to cross, though I have a
greater desire and almost a mind to return to
Washington, and in a measure clear my name,
which I feel I can do. Ido not repent the blow I
struck. I may before my God, but not to man. I
think I have done well, though I am abandoned,
with the curse of Cain upon me, when, if the world
knew my heart, that one blow would have made me
great, though I did not desire greatness. To-night
I try to escape these bloodhounds once more.
Who, who, can read his fate ? God's will be done.
I have too great a soul to die like a criminal. Oh !
may He, may He spare me that, and let me die
bravely. I bless the entire world ; have never
hated or wronged any one. This last was not a
wrong unless God deems it so, and it is with
Him to damn or bless me. And for this
brave boy with me who often prays. Yes,
before and since, with a true and sincere
heart. Was it crime in him ? If so, why can he
pray the same? Ido not wish to shed a drop of
blood, but I must fight the course. 'Tis all that's
left me."

Upon a piece of paper found in the diary, and
supposed to have been torn from it, is written the
following :
"My Dea (piece torn out.) Forgive me, but I
have some little pride. I cannot blame you for
want of hospitality. You know your own affairs.
I was sick, tired with a broken limb and in need of
medical advice, and I could not have turned a dog
from my door in such a plight. However, you
were kind enough to give us something to cat, for
which I not only thank you, but on account of the
rebuke and manner in which to" (piece torn out)
" it is not the substance but the way in which kind-
ness is extended that makes one happy in the ac-
ceptance thereof. The sauce to meat is ceremony.
31eciing were bare without it. Be kind enough to
accept the enclosed, five dollars, although hard to
spare for what we have received. Most respectfully,
your obedient servant."