"Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him." With chastened tenderness and submissive resignation, Mr. Cocke held his course as one who gets support from an invisible world. The concerns of the Institute pressed on him, and he must still take hold on life's affairs. The lease, in 1897, had been extended for a new period of ten years. But, obviously, it was now full time that his business relations to the Trustees be brought to a definite and final settlement. The issue, pending through many years, could be deferred no longer, and on June 2nd, 1900, a radical change in the old order was made. The Trustees found themselves in debt to Mr. Cocke $101,253, in addition to the $50,000 in bonds already executed. Not yet had they been able even to pay the $1,500 loaned by him in 1846. He gave up his notes and bonds to the Trustees, and they in turn gave over the Institution. Thus the Board of Trustees, after a period of forty-five years, went out of existence, and Hollins became the property of Mr. Cocke. It was not the consummation that he wished, but there was no other alternative.
The venerable man, now in his 81st year, had on his hands the great Institution he had so laboriously builded. If he could have called back forty years, the responsibility would have rested on strong shoulders and a confident brain. But the competencies of the earlier years were spent, and age could only plan for the activities in which it should not share. He stood a noble, picturesque figure on the peak of life's work, looking backward with thankful satisfaction, and then wistfully forward into those years when other hands, hearts and brains should shape and guide the Institution. Not with one touch of gloomy foreboding did he make this provision. He believed that his children and grandchildren would loyally cherish his ideals and aspirations. They would hold the legacy sacred, maintain its standards, and keep it true to its aims. In the mellowing days of life's late afternoon this confidence gave him comfort and peace. Human affection played around him soft and tender as summer sunset on the mountains, but it could not be doubted that among the deepest satisfactions of his soul was the conviction that his successors would do him the real homage of preserving the fruitage of his long, unselfish labors.
His form was unbent and his physical force gave him hope of ten more years of life. It was not to be. In the summer of 1898 a violent carbuncle brought him perilously near the brink of the great mystery. Two years later, warning symptoms came upon him suddenly. They did not yield to careful treatment, and with premonitions of the end, he decided in January, 1901, to go to the home of his son, Lucian H. Cocke, in Roanoke. This arrangement was his own device. He thought thereby to save Hollins from the anxiety which his illness would create, and from the shock of its probable end. What could be lovelier than the two letters that follow?
"Hollins, Virginia, February 21, 1901.
"Our Dear Mr. Cocke:—
"We, the members of your Faculty,—or rather of your great household here at Hollins,—deeply touched by your never-ceasing thought of us, and your intense interest in the work of our classes which prompted you even in the hour of great bodily distress to send us from your bed of sickness a message of comfort and encouragement, feel that we can not suffer this, your birthday, to pass by without some expression of our gratitude and sympathy.
"We can never cease to be grateful for the kindly wisdom of your counsel which has directed us always unerringly to what is true and right, and for the firm guidance of your hand which has unfalteringly led us through the dark places of doubt and despair. Though we miss your wise head and guiding hand, we shall ever feel the inspiration of your spirit and the silent influence of your example; and trusting in that Divine Providence which has so long directed and prospered the labors of your brain and hand, we will endeavor to carry out, along your own lines, the work which you have so nobly planned and which you are now forced to lay aside.
"In this time of your physical weakness and bodily suffering, our thoughts are often with you, and we send you this message assuring you of our sympathy, both as a body and as individuals. May our Heavenly Father take you in His keeping and give to you unwavering faith and comfort and peace.
"With the expression of our affectionate regard.
"J. M. McBryde, Jr.