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# Memoir on the Island of Navassa (West Indies)/Character and Composition of the Phosphate

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VI.—Character and Composition of the Phosphate.
The result of this formation is a mineral found principally in loose spherical grains mixed with a large quantity of lumps, the result of the accidental agglomeration of the original grains. Those lumps are generally richer in phosphate of lime than the grains; and the hard rock, resulting from the same cementing process on a still larger scale, is also superior in its contents in phosphates.
Numerous analyses of several cargoes quoted in the appendix to this memoir, give the contents, in bone phosphate of lime, of the phosphates shipped from the Island for commercial purposes. They show the superiority of the Navassa over the phosphatic guanos of other Islands of the West Indies. This purity results probably from the absence of a sand beach and the elevation of the Island, which prevents the sands being carried on the deposits by the winds. Near the surface, the soil now in course of formation by the decay of the vegetation, has sometimes to be removed in digging, and, to a certain point, lowers the value of the phosphate, but in depth the quality always improves, being there more protected against foreign mixtures. Generally the cargoes shipped from Navassa have been found to contain over 60 per cent. of bone phosphate.
In the process of cementation it seems also that foreign substances are carried away, and the following analysis gives the composition of the hard phosphatic rock made by the agglomeration of large globules of phosphate of lime, of a light buff color. This analysis was made by Dr. G. A. Liebig, who, after visiting the Island of Navassa, has been mainly instrumental by his report and chemical labors in bringing to the public notice the true value of the Navassa deposits. It is composed of
In the absence of any crystal of phosphate of lime of Navassa, my object in giving the result of this analysis of a selected specimen has been to show the composition of this substance in a state of purity about as perfect as found up to the present time.
The importance of the result of this analysis will be understood from the fact that the quantity of this hard rock increases in depth under the double action of the cementing process and of the pressure of the superincumbent matter. Also after the removal of the phosphates from the cavities of the rock, the hard crust of rich phosphate adhering to the limestone by the action of the atmospheric influences crumbles down and fills anew the cavities. In many places where the phosphates have been extracted only a few years ago by the first owner of the Island, the holes are already half filled up by this disintegration, probably increased, to some degree, by stuff carried down from higher places by the flow of rain water.
# Memoir on the Island of Navassa (West Indies)/Appendix

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APPENDIX.
The following analyses of samples from different cargoes of the Navassa Phosphatic Guano will show its average composition:
CARGO BY SHIP ISLAND LIGHT. Analyzed by Prof. Way & Evans, of London, England.
DRY SAMPLE OF SAME CARGO. By Dr. Ang. Voelker, of London, England.
N. B.—The whole of the Phosphoric Acid, amounting to 34.70 is equal to 75.75 Bone Phosphate of Lime.
ANALYSIS BY DR. A. A. HAYES, State Assayer of Massachusetts.
The sample was a fragment and some rounded grains of va-ried color, from clay to yellowish brown.
Dr. Hayes's Remarks.—Part of the so-called Carbonate of Lime is really Crenate of Lime, and the alumina appears as a silicate in the rock, while 79.2 per cent. is easily dissolved Bone-phosphate of lime. I have preferred to state the composition of this guano, in a way in which the manufacturer of fertilizers will at once see its value to him, by the great proportion of Bone-phosphate of lime it contains. I may add that this Phosphate when powdered is very easily decomposed by acid, so as to afford the Bi-phosphate of Lime readily.
ANALYSIS BY DR. A. SNOWDEN PIGGOT, of Baltimore, Md.
The sample was taken from several cargoes stored together.
Of the Phosphoric acid 31.87 per cent. is combined with lime and magnesia, and 4.50 with Sesquioxide of iron and alumina. The Phosphoric acid is equivalent to 78.80 of bone phosphate of lime.
ANALYSIS BY DR. C. ELTON BUCK, of New York.
Result of an analysis of Navassa Guano, sample of cargo shipped to New York, July, 1866.
ANALYSIS BY DR. G. A. LIEBIG, of Baltimore, Md.
I.—Cargo by schooner Yankee Blade.
II.—Cargo per Co.'s brig Romance—March, 1866.
III.—Cargo per schooner Bazley—May, 1866
IV.—Cargo per ship Herschel—June, 1866.
Remark.—Those different analyses show most satisfactorily the uniformity of the phosphatic guano in its contents of bone phosphate of lime, and consequently its high value as a fertilizer.
E. G.
[Advertisements]
NAVASSA
Phosphate Company,
(Organized September, 1864.)
Capital 30,000 Shares of $100 par value,
$3,000,000.
Reserve Capital 5,000 Shares.
CASH CAPITAL PAID IN
For 1,000 Shares, at $50 per Share,
$50,000.
OFFICES:
No. 81 John Street, New York.
AND
# Consolation

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## Poems

* “Consolation,” by Elizabeth Akers Allen
* “Consolation” (“In summer we suffered from dust and from flies”), anonymous
* “Consolation,” by Matthew Arnold
* “Consolation,” by Matilda Betham-Edwards
* “Consolation,” by J. A. Blaikie
* “The Consolation,” by Acton Bell
* “Consolation,” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
* “Consolation?,” by Bertram Dobell
* “The Consolation,” by Anne Countess of Winchilsea
* “Consolation,” by Thomas Gisborne
* “Consolation,” by Dora Greenwell
* “Consolation,” by Alice Ann Holmes
* “Consolation,” by Rheinhart Kleiner
* “Consolation,” by Claude McKay
* “Consolation,” by Václav Jaromír Picek
* “Consolation,” by Alexander Pushkin
* “A Consolation” (Sonnet 29), by William Shakespeare
* “Consolation,” by Clark Ashton Smith
* “Consolation,” by Harriet Beecher Stowe
* “Consolation,” by Albert Henry Wratislaw
* “Consolation,” by Andrew Findlay Underhill
* “The Consolation,” by William Butler Yeats

## Other

* "Consolation," in Encyclopædia Britannica (11th ed., 1911)
* “Consolation,” a prose piece by Sarah Ball Kitchen
* “Consolation,” a music work by Felix Mendelssohn
* “‘Consolation’,” a short story by Holworthy Hall
* “Consolation,” a song by Charles Albert Tindley
# The poetical works of Matthew Arnold/Consolation

CONSOLATION.
Mist clogs the sunshine. Smoky dwarf houses Hem me round everywhere; A vague dejection Weighs down my soul.
Yet, while I languish, Everywhere countless Prospects unroll themselves, And countless beings Pass countless moods.
Far hence, in Asia, On the smooth convent-roofs, On the gold terraces, Of holy Lassa, Bright shines the sun.
Gray time-worn marbles Hold the pure Muses; In their cool gallery, By yellow Tiber, They still look fair.
​Strange unloved uproar Shrills round their portal; Yet not on Helicon Kept they more cloudless Their noble calm.
Through sun-proof alleys In a lone, sand-hemmed City of Africa, A blind, led beggar, Age-bowed, asks alms.
No bolder robber Erst abode ambushed Deep in the sandy waste; No clearer eyesight Spied prey afar.
Saharan sand-winds Seared his keen eyeballs; Spent is the spoil he won. For him the present Holds only pain.
Two young, fair lovers, Where the warm June-wind, Fresh from the summer fields Plays fondly round them, Stand, tranced in joy.
With sweet, joined voices, And with eyes brimming, "Ah!" they cry, "Destiny, Prolong the present! Time, stand still here!"
​The prompt stern goddess Shakes her head, frowning: Time gives his hour-glass Its due reversal; Their hour is gone.
With weak indulgence Did the just goddess Lengthen their happiness, She lengthened also Distress elsewhere.
The hour whose happy Unalloyed moments I would eternalize, Ten thousand mourners Well pleased see end.
The bleak, stern hour, Whose severe moments I would annihilate, Is passed by others In warmth, light, joy.
Time, so complained of, Who to no one man Shows partiality, Brings round to all men Some undimmed hours.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 140/Issue 1806/Consolation

* CONSOLATION.
* When the pale wreath is laid upon the tomb,
* Love's last fond homage offered to the dead,
* And the bereft, with tears and drooping head,
* Bid mute farewell on sadly turning home,
* Sister and brother, widowed love and friend,
* Review, as in a solemn vision then,
* Their dear one's life, its bliss and bitter pain,
* Its restless hopes now ever at an end.
* The common thought lifts them above despair,
* One brief thanksgiving is on every tongue:
* That faithful heart shall never more be wrung
* With cold unkindness or with aching care;
* That generous mind no stern rebuffs shall vex;
* That busy brain no problems dire perplex.
* Sunday Magazine.M. Betham-Edwards.
# The Yellow Book/Volume 6/Consolation

Consolation
By J. A. Blaikie
What shall I grow, When unto earth returned, In peace I shall be laid There, where so oft we walked in sun and shade? Flame-flowers burning as my soul hath burned, Whitening in passion just as flowers may Under the fiery sun s consuming ray? No, no! ah, no! But so my garden-plot shall be Sweet set with wilding bloom and grass, Pale starry flowers there shall arise, White for my spirit s thought, pale for mine eyes, That wheresoe'er you thither come or pass, Then surely shall you know, and feel, and see, At last, though late, at last all s well with me; In all my bitter life so sweet a thought, So dear as this, I have not known— To rest where singing winds, far-blown From sea and moor, with singing birds are caught Amid the fostering grey of apple-trees, ​Where spires immortal the green cypresses Uprear, and praise the eternal blue, And you shall join me in that quiet land, And one day wake, and find your dreaming true, And know me as I am, and understand.
# Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900/Consolation

This poem was first published in 1844.
ALL are not taken; there are left behind
Living Belovèds, tender looks to bring
And make the daylight still a happy thing,
And tender voices, to make soft the wind:
But if it were not so—if I could find
No love in all this world for comforting,
Nor any path but hollowly did ring
Where 'dust to dust' the love from life disjoin'd,
And if, before those sepulchres unmoving
I stood alone (as some forsaken lamb
Goes bleating up the moors in weary dearth)
Crying 'Where are ye, O my loved and loving?'
I know a voice would sound, 'Daughter, I am.
Can I suffice for Heaven and not for earth?'
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# Constab Ballads/Consolation

I took my marnin’ bat’ alone, An’ wept for Bennie dat was gone; An’ after,—sittin’, weepin’ long,— Some one came askin’ wha’ be’n wrong: But only chokin’ sobs he heard, My mout’ could never speak a word. An’ so for long days all was grief, An’ never could I get relief; My heart be’n full of emptiness, With naught to love an’ naught to bless.
I ’member de familiar scene:— I sat out on de Depôt green, Restin’ agains’ de big great gun: De long rays o’ de settin’ sun Were thrown upon the sombre wall; I heard de rousin’ bugle-call In chorus soundin’ o’ retreat; A ray o’ light shone on my seat, A soft dull shade of changin’ gold, So pleasant, lovely to behold: A moment,—an’ I was alone, De wanin’ evenin’ sun was gone. ​I sat do’n still; de evenin’ light Passed on, an’ it fell night, dark night. ’Twas autumn: feelin’ rather chill, I rose, led by my aimless will, An’ went up to the second floor, Sat on a bench agains’ de door. A comrade came an’ sat by me, Restin’ a hand upon my knee; De lantern old was burnin’ dim, But bright ’nough for me to see him:— One searchin’ look into his face, I gave him in my heart a place.
I never knew a nicer mind, He was so pleasant an’ so kind; An’ oh! the sweetness of his voice That made my lonely heart rejoice. It all comes back so vividly,— The comfort that he brought to me; The ray of hope, the pure pure joy He gave a poor forsaken boy; In walk or talk his tender care, His deep concern for my welfare. His comin’ filled the larger part Of de great void made in my heart When on dat cruel awful day My faithful Bennie went away.
’Tis not de way o’ dis ya wul’ Dat any miserable soul Should know a little lastin’ peace, Should taste endurin’ happiness. ​De harmless tabby o’ de house Plays kindly wid de frightened mouse, Till, when it nearly loses dread, Good Lard! de little thing is dead. So wid de man, toy of a Will E’er playin’ with him to its fill, To-day alive, to-morrow slain,— Thus all our pleasure ends in pain.
Where’er I roam, whate’er the clime, I’ll never know a happier time; I seemed as happy as could be, When—everything was torn from me. De fateful day I ’member still, De final breakin’ o’ my will, Again de sayin’ o’ good-bye, My poor heart’s silent wailin’ cry; My life, my soul, my all be’n gone, And ever since I am alone.
# The Consolation (Yeats)

* The Consolation, from The Green Helmet and Other Poems (1912)
* The Consolation, from Responsibilities (1916)
# The Green Helmet and Other Poems/The Consolation

THE CONSOLATION
I had this thought awhile ago, "My darling cannot understand What I have done, or what would do In this blind bitter land."
And I grew weary of the sun Until my thoughts cleared up again, Remembering that the best I have done Was done to make it plain;
That every year I have cried, "At length My darling understands it all, Because I have come into my strength, And words obey my call."
That had she done so who can say What would have shaken from the sieve? I might have thrown poor words away And been content to live.
# Responsibilities/The Consolation

I had this thought awhile ago,
'My darling cannot understand
What I have done, or what would do
In this blind bitter land.'
And I grew weary of the sun
Until my thoughts cleared up again,
Remembering that the best I have done
Was done to make it plain;
That every year I have cried, 'At length
My darling understands it all,
Because I have come into my strength,
And words obey my call.'
That had she done so who can say
What would have shaken from the sieve?
I might have thrown poor words away
And been content to live.
# 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica/Consolation

See also Consolation on Wikipedia; and our 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica disclaimer.
​CONSOLATION (Fr. consolation, Lat. consolatio, from consolari, to assuage, comfort, console), in general, the soothing of disappointment or grief. The word is applied equally to the action of consoling, to the state of being consoled, and to the instruments by which comfort is brought. Thus we speak of a person making attempts at consolation, of receiving consolation, and e.g. of the consolations of religion. In the sense of compensation for loss, the word “consolation” has had a variety of adaptations. Of its use in ecclesiastical Latin, in this sense, Du Cange gives various instances. Thus the synod of Angers (453) decreed that those clerics “qui sunt caelibes, nonnisi a sororibus aut amatis aut matribus consolentur”; consolatio was also the name given, e.g., to the evening meal given to monks after the regular collation “by way of consolation” and to certain payments made to members of chapters over and above the revenues of their benefices. In an analogous sense we use the word in such combinations as “consolation prize,” “consolation race,” “consolation stakes,” meaning such as are open only to competitors who have not won in any preceding “event.” Consolation is also the name of a French gambling game, so called because it is usually played on and about race-courses after the races have been run and the players have presumably lost. The necessary implements are a board divided into sections numbered from 1 to 6, upon which the players place their stakes, and a die which is shaken in a box and thrown on the board. The banker, usually a professional gambler, pays five times the money on the winning number and pockets the rest. His chances of winning are overwhelming, as the die is never thrown until a stake has been placed upon all six compartments.
# Thoughts on Life/Consolation

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CONSOLATION.
CONSOLATION.
1. Dost thou realize that God hath greatly exalted thee, in that he hath given thee a fiery trial to bear? For so would He refine and purify thy soul, and make it meet for the matchless splendor of His abiding Presence.
2. Why shouldst thou mourn, if out of thy sorrow may be born some blessed hope for the world?
3. Doth thy toil seem unavailing? Remember that nothing is lost, even thine effort being accepted of God.
4. If thou hast sorrow and canst surmount it, then art thou happy indeed, for the mournful tree of thy life hath brought forth the fair fruit of ​rejoicing. Of the travail of thy soul hath the beautiful child of Peace been born.
5. Doth thy path seem difficult? Remember Christ holds thy hand and will not suffer thee to fall.
6. Rest assured that the trials which have been sent thee are just those which thy soul needed for its purifying and exalting.
7. If thy fairest dreams have failed thee in life, thou wilt find a sure refuge in noble realities.
8. Earthly love may fail thee in thy greatest need, but heavenly love never will.
9. The harder thou workest for possession, the more apt wilt thou be to retain; regret not, then, thy long-continued effort.
10. The painful toil of earth is short ​compared with the endless bliss of heaven.
11. It is when the deepest chasm yawns beneath us that we feel the support of the Everlasting Arms most precious; for then, realizing our own insufficiency and incompleteness, do we commit ourselves to a strength not our own, and are safely borne over. Ah, welcome the griefs bringing with them such blessed support and such sweet transportation across the dark valley which threatened to ingulf us!
12. Alas, that we have done so little in life! Yes, but so much still remains for us to do.
13. Doth thy burden sometimes seem heavier than thou canst bear? Think of Christ who fainted not under the weight of the whole world's sin and sorrow.
​14. Didst thou ever fathom the sweetness of the thought that all is known to God? Why, then, shouldst thou take it to heart, though thine actions be misapprehended of men?
15. Doth thy soul faint under the scorching rays of the toil of life? Flee thou quickly to the Shadow of the Cross, where thou mayest rest and be refreshed.
16. Thine earthly house may crumble and fall, but thy heavenly home hath a sure foundation.
17. Thou must endure thy burden. Thou canst not shake it off; but Christ will help thee to bear it.
18. It is sometimes when we lie prone at God's feet, and make a complete surrender of our will to His, that He is pleased to give us our heart's desire.
​19. Walk thou ever uprightly, and the world will be apt to give thee thy dues in due season.
20. Each hath his allotted place in the great universal plan of God. When doubts perplex thee, remember all is in His hands who cannot err.
21. Though sickness may conquer my body, yet doth my soul remain free.
22. It is with the failure of all earthly things that we find out the preciousness of things heavenly.
23. When thou canst come to feel the utter dependence of thy soul upon God, then wilt thou find enduring peace.
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/Still, Still with Thee

* Still, still with thee, when purple morning breaketh, When the bird waketh, and the shadows flee; Fairer than morning, lovelier than daylight, Dawns the sweet consciousness, I am with thee.
* Alone with thee, amid the mystic shadows, The solemn hush of nature newly born; Alone with thee in breathless adoration, In the calm dew and freshness of the morn.
* Still, still with thee, as to each newborn morning A fresh and solemn splendor still is given, So does this blessed consciousness awaking, Breathe each day nearness unto thee and heaven.
* When sinks the soul, subdued by toil, to slumber, Its closing eyes look up to thee in prayer; Sweet the repose beneath thy wings o'er-shading, But sweeter still, to wake and find thee there.
* So shall it be at last, in that bright morning, When the soul waketh, and life's shadows flee; O in that hour, fairer than daylight dawning, Shall rise the glorious tho't—I am with thee. Amen.
# The Conservative (Lovecraft)/January 1916/Consolation

Consolation.
Oh, grieve not if the gentle glance That spoke to yours so shyly But yesterday, now looks askance On you, who hold it highly!
And do not sigh, if lips and hands That once were kind and willing, Obey no more love's sweet demands, When love has lost its thrilling!
If Jane's or Agnes' heart will roam To fresher fields and fairer, So yours has often stray'd from home, In quest of pastures rarer!
For love may stay or haste away; Love knows no time, nor season; For each unrest and change of nest, Love has its own sweet reason!
Rheinhart Kleiner.
# 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica/Maia

See also Maia on Wikipedia; and our 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica disclaimer.
​MAIA, in Greek mythology, the eldest of the Pleiades, the seven daughters of Atlas and the Oceanid Pleïone. She and her sisters, born on Mt Cyllene in Arcadia, are sometimes called mountain goddesses. In a cave of Cyllene Maia became by Zeus the mother of the god Hermes. The story is told in the Hymn to Hermes attributed to Homer. She was identified by the Romans with Maia Majesta, an old Italian goddess of spring, to whom a sacrifice was offered on the 1st of May by the priest of Vulcan.
# The Conservative (Lovecraft)/January 1916/Maia

Maia
Thou comest in the May-time To star the earth with flow'rs, To usher in the play-time After laborious hours.
The myriad blooms acclaim thee With petal-lips aglow,
While birds and rills but name thee In all their flight and flow.
Speed on thy joyous mission With wonder-blossoms clad, Of life the sweet magician To make our sad hearts glad.
James T. Pyke.
# The Conservative (Lovecraft)/January 1916/Introducing Mr. James Pyke

Introducing Mr. James Pyke
Of the many gifted poets entering The United Amateur Press Association during the present period of improved literary standards, few can bear comparison with the one who now makes his first appearance in these pages, Mr. James T. Pyke of Riverside, East Providence, R.I.
Mr. Pyke is a gentleman blessed equally with the advantages of highest culture and of highest intellectual endowments. He is a graduate both of Brown University and of Andower Theological Seminary, having been Class Poet at the latter institution. Upon his graduation from Andover, Mr. Pyke was ordained to the Congregational ministry, to which profession he lent all the remarkable genius with which favouring fortune has invested him; but the tremendous strain of pastoral activity on a delicate constitution at last proved excessive, and he has now retired to a quiet life of letters, cultivating the Muses in his cottage at Riverside, overlooking the sparkling reaches of Narragansett Bay.
The unusual modesty of Mr. Pyke has veiled a poetical genius which will now blaze out all the more resplendently because of its previous concealment. His first efforts were made in boyhood, and speciments written at the age of seventeen show all the inspiration and polish to be expected from a man of mature years. But these were no more than the faint promise of future excellence. His poems of manhood are infinitely moving and beautiful. Nature, viewed through the medium of his sonnets, takes on new and lovelier aspects, whilst his longer poems cover every phase of human life and aspiration. "The Conservative's" lines in the "United Official Quarterly" for November, 1914, were an endeavor to convey some idea of their grace and loftiness.
​Mr. Pyke's particular models in verse have ever been the New England poets, and to the classic coterie of the preceding century he may be justly deemed a legitimate successor.
It is not often that an organisation of amateurs can boast the membership of a genius of Mr. Pyke's type and "The Conservative" has scant need to say that he is vastly proud to have been the means of bringing Mr. Pyke into his beloved United Amateur Press Association.