There was nothing angular or disproportionate in the structure of Mr. Cocke's mind. The photograph of it may be said to have been reflected in his face, with its fine assemblage of strong and well-balanced features. The intellect was clear, the will robust, and the feeling intense. One never saw him when he did not know what he wanted to do; never found him irresolute or languid of purpose; and never knew him indifferent or unresponsive. Along every line of enterprise that summoned him, these powers were joined in unity and concert of action. He was not in the smallest degree visionary or quixotic. Illusions, phantasms, Utopian dreams, perished in the light of his large common sense. Yet this man was a true idealist. In his youth he saw a vision. At first he saw it dimly, but as time passed it grew in clarity, until it materialized in a better system for the higher education of young women. Had he failed, we might have called him a dreamer; but as he succeeded gloriously, we rank him with the adventurous thinkers who have blessed the world. He followed the gleam and domesticated it in society. In his early days Hollins Institute was to him what the Holy Grail was to the Knights of King Arthur, or what the Golden Fleece was to the ancient Argonauts. The thing that makes a man great, is a great idea seized and brought into beneficent application. He is greatest that is servant of all. When Mr. Cocke said that his habit was to think thirty years ahead, he was hardly conscious that it was a fine feat of imagination. Yet this is his title to the crown of the Legion of Honor. Intellectual and moral heroism must have its reward.

He would not have us say that his scholarship was broad. Too honest was he to make pretense of much learning. Broadly intelligent and well informed he was, and an efficient teacher of mathematics, but he made no claim to extended acquaintance with literature, science or philosophy. It is interesting to know that he was fond of Milton's "Paradise Lost" and Pollock's "Course of Time," and could quote long passages from each. He deplored inability to devote himself more assiduously to wide reading and deep study. The scholarly instinct and craving was in him, but the engrossing cares of his Institution absolutely monopolized his attention. Pathetic necessity barred him from the fuller measures of intellectual culture. On administrative burden bearing depended the life and growth of the school, and with perfect intelligence of the personal sacrifice involved, the responsibility was accepted. However, he was keen to discover scholarship, and quick, with the wisdom of a master, to add it to his Faculty.

It was sometimes said that he was autocratic, and he himself admitted that there was some ground for the charge. How could it be otherwise? He was the informing soul and energy of the Institution, and in that fact was the sole guaranty of its development and perpetuity. He knew his plans and hopes, he had bold confidence in his own judgment, and he possessed an indomitable will. He had to speak with decision and authority. All confessed his right to command and understood the certain penalties of faulty service or of disobedience. The harassments of interminable worries and of defeated hopes may at times have resulted in a look of sternness, or have given his manner a touch of unpleasing abruptness; but, withal, it was far from him to inflict intentional pain. Austerity of manner, incidentally of expression, was balanced by as kind a heart as ever beat. He was a superb gentleman, and in his prevailing gentler moods, had pleasant greetings for all. He was at the helm, and the necessity was on him to guide and direct, but behind the flash of those keen blue eyes lay a wealth of human kindness and affection. All Hollins knew it. Tyrant he could not be, but master he was. Never did it pass from his thought that he was a servant of God and that the mind of the Master was the goal of his life. He had the bearing of a lord, but the child in his heart never died. Then, if ruggedness appeared, it was but a surface exhibition, the fatherly feeling being the deep inextinguishable fact within. For this, his pupils and friends gave him a life-long devotion, and his children loved him, almost to adoration. This man was no autocrat.

He was conspicuous for his liberality. Owing to the fact that his earnings and that of his family were constantly swallowed up by improvements in the Institution, he was never a wealthy man. Yet that fact did not close the door of his compassions and generosities. Gifts went to the poor, contributions unstinted went to his church and to the benevolences of his denomination. Once, when attending the Baptist State Association at Petersburg, Virginia, after several speeches had been made on missions, he arose and said: "Now let us do something. I wish right here to subscribe $100." The suggestion struck the body and a handsome subscription was taken. Mrs. Cocke said, some time after the event: "Charles came home and sold a horse to pay that subscription." At an educational gathering in Enon Church, when the inevitable subscription was taken, his young son, Lucian, signalized his immature and reckless enthusiasm by saying: "Put me down for $100." The cautious collector called out to the father what the boy had done. "All right," said the acquiescent father; "he has a pony." In dismay the youth saw the meaning, and the pony went to education.

Not often did he relate jokes and anecdotes, but he enjoyed them at the hands of his friends. He had a saving sense of humor and could relish a flash of it even at his own expense. This incident he told on himself. At one of the Valley meetings of ministers and laymen, he made a stirring speech. His oratory was of the spontaneous, practical type, often impassioned and tremendously moving. When he closed an admiring brother arose and paid compliment to the speaker for his "exhaustive" address. The modest orator meekly protested the extravagant language. Then a wit of a preacher stood up to explain to Mr. Cocke that the brother did not mean that the speaker had "exhausted" the subject, but that he had "exhausted" himself! The house was instantly in a roar of laughter, in which the orator himself as heartily joined. His brethren knew they could take innocent liberties with him, because they loved him so. At Walnut Grove Baptist Church in Bedford County, Virginia, a meeting was in progress in the fall of 1881. The house was crowded when Mr. Cocke arose. The good genius of speech was upon him and that address on education was memorable for power. Later, in the church yard, a good mother was talking to a minister about the speech. A flush was on her face and tears glistened in her eyes as she said, "Oh, I wish I was able to send my daughter to Hollins." Now he had not said one word about Hollins, his effort being to magnify the importance of the education of young women, and to fasten conviction on parental hearts. At another time, while he was attending a Baptist meeting in Southern Virginia, he spoke before the body. A college professor in the audience inquired as to the personality of the speaker. On being told, he said: "I want to meet him, for he said more forcible things in five minutes than all the speakers before him in fifteen." An interview followed, with the result that the distinguished Professor Kusian spent twenty-eight years in teaching at Hollins.

Self-conceit Mr. Cocke regarded as a sort of vulgarity. With all sincerity, his soul responded to the sentiment of him who asked: "Why should the spirit of mortal be proud?" His friends thought that in some instances his humility was overdone. Richmond College gave him the degree of LL.D., but he declined it, silently and unostentatiously. His frank reverence for truth disallowed acceptance. The degree, in his view, stood for a measure of learning which he regarded himself as lacking. His modesty wronged him. The compliment has come to be bestowed on high civic merit and achievement as well as on broad scholarship. In the former virtues, Mr. Cocke stood pre-eminent. His standard, if applied, would strip a multitude of names of this honorary title.

Interest in making money seems never to have touched him. Not once did he venture on an investment. The material prosperity of men gratified him. He knew that most men ought to make money, but he had no time for it. "This one thing I do." On one thing, the gifts, plans and powers of his long life were literally and undividedly centered.

He loathed the feeling of jealousy. He would have despised himself if he had been unable to hear the praise of other college presidents and of their institutions without inward pangs. Eulogize his brethren, and you smote on no chord of envy. He was a large man. He bore no grudges and carried no enmities, the common luggage of proud and envious minds.

What a good and generous neighbor this man was! The successes and sorrows of the countryside round about Hollins touched him sensibly. He was their counsellor in times of perplexity; their comforter in seasons of grief. Frequent were the times when a minister not being accessible, he conducted funerals and buried the dead. He loved the people as do all who really love God. The religion that attempts to terminate on God, ignoring human beings, is as sounding brass and a clanging cymbal. Of such worship this man knew nothing. He expressed love to the divine in even-handed justice and in benevolent sympathy among men. Perhaps the finest tribute paid at his funeral was spoken by the Lutheran minister, Dr. F. V. N. Painter, a part of which is as follows:

"Dr. Cocke was a great educator. He was great both in theory and practice. He had not made, I think, an elaborate study of the science and history of education, as they are presented in text-books. His knowledge was deeper than the knowledge acquired in that way. In the educational work of more than fifty years, his strong intellect worked out independent views of educational principles and methods. In no small degree he helped to make the educational history of Virginia and of the South.

"Dr. Cocke always impressed me as a large man. His stalwart frame was but the counterpart of a vigorous intellect. There was nothing petty, narrow, cynical, in his views or aims or methods. He loved to deal with fundamental principles and great facts; and in his discussion of any subject, there was always a breadth of view and a vigor of utterance that commanded attention. In his great, absorbing concern for truth, he cared but little for that delicacy of diction and that refinement of phrasing which so often, in the hands of smaller men, become an end in themselves. He was a strong earnest man, wrapped about with invincible integrity, reminding us of Carlyle's words on Luther, 'Great, not as a hewn obelisk, but as an Alpine mountain, yet in the clefts of it beautiful valleys with flowers'.

"Dr. Cocke was a man of sterling integrity of character. A brief acquaintance was sufficient to elicit our highest confidence. He was straightforward and honest in his aims and methods of work. He attempted to deceive neither himself nor others; and it is impossible now to associate an insincere or crafty diplomacy with his character. His native integrity of soul, which must have come as a rich inheritance from worthy ancestors, was strengthened by his deep religious life. He recognized his supreme obligations to God; and he took the life of Jesus Christ as his model. Thus he stood before us as a beautiful example of Christian manhood. In character and in life he reflected credit on our common humanity."

It is the divine way to do mighty works through consecrated men and women. Christian faith so identifies one with the life of God that the eternal energies can flow onward to great consummations, even to the casting of mountains of difficulty into the sea. Nothing evil was ever charged against Mr. Cocke. The absolute open purity of the man shamed all envy, and paralyzed misrepresentation. Misunderstood and unappreciated at times he doubtless was, but this he accepted as one of the inevitable assets of an ongoing, achieving career. He was not perfect, but he pressed far up the heights of resplendent manhood. The signature of a divine call was upon him, and he honored it to the end. His long labor fell far short of his dreams, but it was crowned with the blessings of Heaven.

Hollins College is his monument. There it stands, a thing of beauty, by the little Sulphur Spring. There may it stand forever!