My Lord Anson, at the Admiralty, sends word to Chatham, then
confined to his chamber by one of his most violent attacks of the
gout, that it is impossible for him to fit out a naval expedition
within the period to which he is limited. "Impossible!" cried
Chatham, glaring at the messenger; "who talks to me of
impossibilities?" Then starting to his feet, and forcing out
great drops of agony on his brow with the excruciating torment of
the effort, he exclaimed, "Tell Lord Anson that he serves under a
minister who treads on impossibilities!"
- Edwin Percy Whipple
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Last Revised: 2008 April 9
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