Whether Arnold distinguished himself at the first battle of Stillwater may be a moot question. That he was a moving spirit in the second battle is undoubted. The victory was very much due to his exertions. Up to the time of his treason, despite his rapacity and extravagance at Philadelphia, he merited praise for his dash, bravery, and unflinching devotion to the cause of Independence. That he was treated badly by the Congress is true; but that is scarcely a palliation of his infamous conduct in revenge. The Congress seems to have had a faculty for injustice. As it acted towards Arnold, so it did to Paul Jones, John Stark, and Philip Schuyler. But none of the last named revenged themselves by treason. The contrast between the conduct of Arnold and Schuyler is particularly notable. The latter had managed affairs with dexterity, and it was to his prudence, decision, and skill that the surrender of Burgoyne was mainly due. At the last moment he was superseded by Gates, under circumstances calculated to arouse his resentment. Schuyler, unlike Arnold, was not merely a patriot, but a man of honor. He was ready to submit to wrong rather than betray the cause. The conduct of Arnold was the baser from the fact that Washington, who felt that the man had been wronged, labored to do him right, and had placed him in the responsible command of West Point, to pave the way to that distinction his services on the battle-field deserved. Arnold, therefore, added ingratitude and breach of confidence to treason. He seems to have had the courage of a bull-dog, but to have been totally lacking in moral principle. When I was a boy I met an old Revolutionary soldier who had served under Arnold. He would praise him for his bravery in one minute, and denounce his treachery the next, rarely speaking of him without tears. Hence the idea of the ballad. [Illustration: BENEDICT ARNOLD.] _ARNOLD AT STILLWATER._ Ah! you mistake me, comrades, to think that my heart is steel, Cased in a cold endurance, nor pleasure nor pain to feel; Cold as I am in my manner, yet over these cheeks so seared Tear-drops have fallen in torrents, thrice since my chin grew beard. Thrice since my chin was bearded I suffered the tears to fall: Benedict Arnold, the traitor! he was the cause of them all. Once, when he carried Stillwater, proud of his valor I cried; Then, with my rage at his treason—with pity when André died. Benedict Arnold, the traitor, sank deep in the pit of shame, Bartered for vengeance his honor, blackened for profit his fame; Yet never a gallanter soldier, whatever his after-crime, Fought on the red field of honor than he in his early time.