in that the work which fell to him, at the first, and again at the last of this war, was peculiarly suited to his professional characteristics; but he was not interchangeable with Rodney.  In the latter there was a briskness of temper, a vivacity, very distinguishable from Howe’s solidity of persistence; and he was in no sense one to permit “discipline to come to nought,” the direction in which Howe’s easy though reserved disposition tended.  The West Indies were to be the great scene of battles, and, while the tactical ideas of the two appear to have been essentially alike, in the common recognition of combination as imperative to success, the severity of Rodney was needed to jerk the West India fleet sharply out of sleepy tradition; to compel promptness of manoeuvre and intelligent attention to the underlying ideas which signals communicate.  Flexibility of movement, earnestness and rapidity of attack, mutual support by the essential coherence of the battle order without too formal precision,—­these were the qualities which Rodney was to illustrate in practice, and to enforce by personal impression upon his officers.  The official staff of the fleet had to pass under the rod of the schoolmaster, to receive new ideas, and to learn novel principles of obedience,—­to a living chief, not to a dead letter crusted over by an unintelligent tradition.  Not till this step had been made, till discipline had full hold of men’s affections and understanding, was there room for the glorious liberty of action which Nelson extended to his officers; preaching it in word, and practising it in act.  Hawke re-begat the British Navy in the spirit he imparted to it; Rodney, first of several, trained its approaching maturity in habits which, once acquired, stand by men as principles; Nelson reaped the fulness of the harvest.

On October 1, 1779, Rodney was again appointed to the command of the Leeward Islands Station.  The year had been one of maritime misfortune and discouragement.  The French declaration of war in 1778 had been followed by that of Spain in June, 1779; and a huge allied fleet—­sixty-six ships-of-the-line, to which the British could oppose only thirty-five—­had that summer entered and dominated the English Channel.  Nothing was effected by it, true; but the impression produced was profound.  In the West Indies Grenada had been lost, and Byron badly worsted in an attempt to relieve it.  On assuming his command, Rodney could not but feel that he had more to do than to establish a reputation; he had a reputation to redeem, and that under a burden of national depression which doubly endangered the reputation of every officer in responsible position.  He must have known that, however undeservedly, he had not the full confidence of the government, although party and personal ties would naturally have predisposed it in his favor.  He therefore entered upon his career under the necessity to do and to dare greatly; he had not a strong hand, and needed the more to play a game not only strong, but to some extent adventurous.