Political offences were never left unpunished by Christophe, and towards delinquents of this kind he never manifested his vengeance by open violence or a display of personal indignation. Those who had excited his mistrust were upon some occasions even favored with a personal visit from the monarch, who studiously concealed his vengeful purposes under a show of kindness, and the utmost graciousness of manner. But the arrival of his vengeance was not retarded by this display of civility. The agents of Christophe generally made their appearance by night, and the suspected offender was secretly hurried off to the fate which awaited him. But though Christophe’s anger for offences not of a political character was violent, it was seldom bloody. Amidst a torrent of philippics against such persons, his customary expression, “O! diable,” was a signal to those in attendance to fall upon the offender and scourge him with canes; and when the punishment had been made sufficient, the justice of the monarch was satisfied, and the culprit was restored again to his favor. Sometimes, however, his indignation in these cases was aroused to the ferocity of a savage not to be appeased but by the blood of his victim. We must now turn to the affairs of the republic. Pétion had long been despondent for the permanence of the republic, and this feeling had by degrees grown into a settled despair, when he discovered that his long administration had not succeeded in giving order and civilization to the idle and barbarous hordes composing the dangerous population of his government. While the more despotic sway of Christophe maintained the prosperity of his kingdom, Pétion found that the people of the republic was becoming every day a more ungovernable rabble, indolent, dissolute, and wretched. While the coffers of Christophe were overflowing with millions of treasures wrung by the hard exactions of his tyranny from the blacks who toiled upon the soil, the finances of the republic were already in irretrievable confusion, as the productions of that territory were hardly sufficient for the sustenance of its population. Amidst these perplexities and embarrassments, Pétion fell sick in the month of March, 1818, and after a malady which continued but eight days, he perished of a mind diseased, declaring to his attendants that he was weary of life.