DIARY OF JOHN WILKES BOOTH.

Southland Times, Issue 715, 26 August 1867, Page 3

DIARY OF JOHN WILKES BOOTH.

■ m The diary of John "Wilkes Booth, the assassin of President Lincoln, has at last been published. The book in which the remarks are . written has some of the leaves preceding the entries torn out, but it is stated by Colonel Conyer, who took it from Booth's body, that it was in this state when he first became possessed of it. The entries are as follows : — "Ti mo," 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. 1 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. .1 can never repent it, though we hated to kill. Our country owed all her trouble to him, and G-od simply made me the instrument 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 National 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, 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, I am here in despair, and why? For doing what Brutus was honored 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 hope for no gain. I knew no private wrong. I struck for my country, and that alone — 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 wrong; yet I cannot see my wrong, except in serving 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 I am sure there is no pardon in the Heaven for me, since man condems 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 corse of

my heart, that one blow would hare mad* i me great, though I did not desire great ness. To-night I try to escape these blood' hounds once more. Who, who, can reac his fate ? G-od's will be done. I hay« top 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. £es, before and since, with a true and sincere) heart. Was it a crime in him? If so, why can he pray, the, same ? I dp not wish to shed a drop of blood, but I must fight the course. " Tis all that's left me." Upon a peice of paper fonnd 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 eat, 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 kindness is extended that makes one happy in the acceptance thereof. The sauce to meat is ceremony. Meeting were base 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."