[Footnote 1: It is pleasant to witness manifestations of gratitude. God frowns upon impiety. The wealthy, illustrious, and miserable Junot, in a paroxysm of insanity, precipitated himself from his chamber window, and died in agony upon the pavement.] [Footnote 2: Andrè Massena rose from a common soldier to the rank of a commander, and became Duke of Rivoli and Marshal of France. "He was," said Napoleon, "a man of superior talent. He generally, however, made bad dispositions previously to a battle. It was not until the dead began to fall about him that he began to act with that judgment which he ought to have displayed before. In the midst of the dying and the dead, and of balls sweeping away those who encircled him, he gave his orders, and made his dispositions with the most perfect coolness and judgment. It was truly said of him, that he never began to act with skill until the battle was going against him. He was, however, _a robber_. He went halves with the contractors and commissaries of the army. I signified to him often, that if he would discontinue his peculations I would make him a present of a hundred and fifty or two hundred thousand dollars, but he had acquired such a habit that he could not keep his hands from money. On this account he was hated by the soldiers, who mutinied against him three or four times. However, considering the circumstances of the times, he was precious. Had not his bright parts been sullied by avarice, he would have been a great man." Massena lived through all the wars of Napoleon, and died of chagrin, when the master, whom he adored, was an exile at St. Helena.] THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD. BY BENSON J. LOSSING. [Illustration: BENEDICT ARNOLD.] [The engravings which illustrate this article, are from Lossing's _Pictorial Field-Book of the Revolution_, now in course of publication by Harper and Brothers.] The defection of Arnold, and his attempt to betray the strong post of West Point and its dependencies into the power of the British army, was the ripened head of faction which had been festering in the Legislature and the Camp for more than three years. The stern and disinterested patriotism which marshaled a beleaguering army around Boston, and declared, in solemn council, the thirteen Anglo-American colonies to be free and independent states, had become diluted by the commingling of selfish ambition. Already Church, Duché, Galloway, Zubley, and other smaller traitors who, like Peter, were courageous when danger appeared remote, and boasted loudly of their love for the patriot cause, until the hour of its trial came, had denied their allegiance to the new faith by words or deeds, and gave countenance to multitudes of the weak, timid, and unprincipled, who openly espoused the cause of the king.